A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, favorited, and followed! It's a great encouragement and really helped me to keep the ball rolling with this chapter!
"Go, Mad Dogs!"
The Cheer Pyramid of Middleton High. An impressive feat of coordination, strength, and balance. When executed properly, such an impressive tower of humanity captivates crowds everywhere, winning the team portions of many of the cheer competitions attended under Kim's captainage. The top of the pyramid must have absolute trust in those at the base, their safety and well being firmly entrusted on their shoulders, literally.
bebeepbebeepbebeep
So why exactly Kim keeps putting Bonnie on the lowest row and herself on the top is a mystery she once again considers as the flight of the school's social queen sends her squad mates and her into a heaping pile. Pulling herself free, she finds Bonnie now talking on the previously ringing phone.
"That was so on purpose," Kim can't help but call her out.
"Like, it's always about you. Zero your ego, Kim. Brick, sweetie, I'll come over when you're done working out. Two hours? Okay. Oh, and don't shower. I like it when you glisten." And on that disturbing remark, she hangs up.
"When you glisten? Could you be any sicker?" The disgust virtually drips from the cheer captain's voice.
"Oh, like you and your BF? Woops! I forgot, you don't have a BF, do you, Kim? Too busy 'saving the world'?"
"You still use air quotes, huh? Interesting."
"I'm all about Brick Flagg. Quarterback, hottie, top of the food chain. Tara's with Jason Morgan, the basketball team's star forward. Jessica's with Steve Foley, the baseball captain. Soccer, track and field, lacrosse, ice-hockey." Bonnie gestures to the other members of the squad as she lists off. "Face facts. All the remotely acceptable guys are taken."
"Is there a deadline I don't know about?"
"The prom?"
"Argh. It's just another dance," Kim brushes off.
"Try the dance. Who you go with is, like, crucial. And everyone already knows you'll end up dragging that loser Stoppable with you. But hey, maybe you can beg the captain of the chess team to take you instead."
"Ron. Is not. A loser." Her voice is low and dangerous, animosity baked into every syllable. It actually does manage to send a slight shiver down Bonnie's spine, but she'll openly confess her closet Space Passage and Ios fandoms before admitting to showing weakness in front of Kim. "And so what if I go with him?" The challenge is delivered with a piercing emerald eyed glare.
"So you're telling me that you and the mascot have moved to the next level, K?"
"No, Ron and I are still just friends, Bonnie." Huh, that's weird. Why do I sound almost… disappointed? "But I really don't see how that matters."
"Oh, it doesn't matter, just as long as you don't mind the statement you'll send by taking your lapdog to prom."
"Hey, KP!" The subject of the diva's ridicule bursts into the gym. Maybe it's just because he missed her at practice today for detention (losing your homework while skydiving will do that), but he seems extra full of that innate exuberance that always seems to shine brighter in his best friend's presence.
"Oh, look. He's ready for his afternoon walk now." The Queen B then decides that maybe that's enough needling her captain for one day, as she's fairly certain her body has started manifesting phantom puncture wounds from the intensity of the daggers Kim is shooting with her gaze. She quickly slinks away.
"Do we have a date with Bueno Nacho or what?!"
But Kim is too lost in her thoughts now to answer Ron's chowtime inquiry. The food chain nonsense she surprisingly found she couldn't care less about. But the other stuff to which her rival was hinting…
"Girl, that is flawed."
That's not quite the reaction Kim was expecting. After she and Ron met up with Monique for some after-school snackage, she couldn't help offloading onto her best girl friend about her most recent verbal spar with Bonnie while Ron went to put in the orders. But now Kim can't seem to temper the fire that's rapidly building in her gut caused by this response.
"Hey, don't you start bashin' Ron too!" The heat gains in her voice as she rises from her seat, hands planted on the table as she stares down the ebony skinned fashion maven. "He's funny, the most loyal guy I know, and brave every single time I need him! What would be so wrong if I went out with Ron? Because he doesn't try to be normal, doesn't rank on Bonnie's oh so glorified high school hierarchy?! So what if he's weird!? I like weird!"
"Uh… Kim, I was referring to the whole food chain, statement for prom biz."
"Oh." She sheepishly shrinks back down into the booth, shoulders drooping, cheeks tinged with a quickly darkening pink. "Right."
"But since you seem so vocal about it, do you want to date Ron?"
"I… I don't know. I hadn't really consciously thought about it for the longest time, but, well, we had a few strange sitches this year that kinda made me rethink a little."
"Like?" Monique prompts, a knowing smirk beginning to grow.
Kim sighs, quickly glances at the counter to make sure Ron is still occupied, then dives in.
"So, first it was Middleton Days. Remember all that?"
"You mean when you were all gooey-eyed and bouncing off the walls trying to ravish our favorite blond boy like a hungry lioness after a tasty gazelle?"
"Not how I would have put it, but yeah," the redhead mutters.
"Thought you said that was some twisted tech that made you all like that."
"Well, that's sorta the case. It did force me to be lovesick practically the whole day, but how many guys was I attracted to that entire time, Mon?"
"Only Ron," she replies with a little nod.
"Only Ron. No one else was even remotely on my mind, no one else was worth any bit of my attention."
"So you're wondering if the doodad just worked on something that's already there instead of just creating it all willy-nilly? Otherwise your head probably would've turned at any fine piece of tall, dark, and handsome mancake. That about right?"
Kim can only manage a mute nod. But Monique notices something in her friend's wordless expression.
"I'm picking up that there's more to this."
Another nod. A deep breath. A slow exhale. "After I was back in control, Ron wanted to know if everything was fake and I… kinda… said there were still fireworks. But!" Her hand shoots up to halt any interjections from aspiring style gurus. "I ended up pointing to the actual fireworks show to deflect because it was so the emotional roller coaster for both of us that night and we really needed time to think!"
A single brunette eyebrow raises in mild accusation. "And did you?"
"No," she admits, head drooped slightly. "I just shelved it in the back of my mind 'til the next one of these sitches."
"Which was?"
"The wedding of Ron's cousin."
"When was that?"
"Around the time Ron turned the caf into a disaster zone."
"Girl, do you have the slightest idea how little that narrows it down?"
"Leather jacket and pompadour phase."
"Oof." A shiver courses through Monique. "Yeah, I remember."
"Well, he had an ish with… the seating arrangement, and we were trying to figure a way out of it. And, well, I asked him if going with a date would help."
"Hold up, hold the phone! Kim, you mean to tell me you were fishing for Ron, resident boy-oblivious supreme of Middleton High, to invite you to a wedding as a date?"
"I didn't think of it that way while I was actively saying the words, but I kinda realized that was the intent as soon as he started mulling it over. I think he might have realized it too because then he started backtracking and I started backtracking and we both thought it would be awkweird…"
"But…?" Monique presses.
"But… I was a little disappointed when Ron discounted the idea of asking me so quickly."
"Why? Don't you think he was just worrying about any nuclear fallout from an FZB?"
"..."
"Friend Zone Breach?"
"Oh. Maybe? I dunno. I kinda circled back to that mindset when we did finally make the wedding together. He was about to call me his date, and, well, I gave him a pretty rotten stink-eye."
"Dang, girl, that's harsh."
"I was confused! I still am, hence this convo."
"Okay, fair enough. What's the next case?"
Kim takes another deep breath, turning her face to her entwined hands with which she has subconsciously started thumb wrestling herself.
"Yori."
Although Kim's mutter is barely loud enough to even be considered audible, a lift of her head to meet Monique's confident smirk shows all too well that she heard.
"It's not like I was jealin'! I was just concerned for Ron and thought he was in danger and, and…"
The accusatory cocked eyebrow returns and deflates the flimsy defense into a defeated sigh.
"Okay, I maybe-"
Monique shakes her head.
"Possibly-"
Another head shake.
"Probably-"
A third time.
"Ergh! Alright, fine! DEFINITELY was jealin' on Yori! There, happy?!"
"Almost. Just need a moment to preen." She lets her eyes close, her face an irritating balance of justified smugness and gleeful pride that Kim would just love to absolutely obliterate were it not one of her best friends presenting it. Although, as the seconds seem to stretch on, the redhead begins to seriously reevaluate that gracious immunity. "Okay, now I'm good."
"Really? Sure you don't wanna rub my nose in it anymore?"
"After you left me high and dry with that burgundy blowout in Chemistry? Girl, you have no idea how long it took to get that stuff out of my hair. You're lucky I'm stopping there."
"Okay, fine," Kim begrudgingly mutters. "So, yeah, that's it pretty much."
"Huh. I was a little surprised you didn't try to undercut all this with the whole 'I love him like a brother' shtick, TBH. That usually makes an appearance in these sorta things."
"Blech, def not. That's just gorchy. I have brothers, and, trust me Mon, the way I love Ron is a heck of a lot different than the way I love the Tweebs. Usually the pinnacle of my sisterly love is restraining from subjecting them to a firsthand kung fu demonstration after they scavenge my hair dryer to make a fully functional replica of the Apollo 15 lunar lander."
"You know, part of me really wants to know why Apollo 15 specifically, but the much larger part has latched onto you openly admitting that you love Ron."
"I mean, that's not in question. He's been my best friend for thirteen years, he always has my back, he keeps me grounded and sane when I get too, well, me. Of course I love him. I just… need to figure out if I like like him."
"And if you do, then do you love love him, right?"
"Ah-huh, pretty much."
"Hmm," Monique hums thoughtfully. When she meets Kim's gaze, she finds it expectant, eagerly awaiting her council. "Kim, there's something definitely deeper between y'all than the 'just friends' card, can we agree on that?" A slight nod of acceptance. "Alright then, it's up to you two to figure out exactly what that is. Honestly, I think you guys have chemistry so good it could win a Nobel Prize, but you, both of you, need to determine exactly what you mean to each other. And no matter what conclusion you reach," she gives a reassuring smile, "there's nothing wrong going to the prom with a guy you love, is there?"
Kim mulls over her friend's conclusion. There is an inherent wisdom to it, she'll grant that. But before she can vocalize any such thoughts, she recognizes the shuffling gait approaching the booth and sticks a pin in it.
"KP." Ron's sullen demeanor peaks her interest. "Life as we know it has changed forever."
This statement had the unintentional effect of throwing Kim's mind into a nervous rush. He heard me? I thought he was out of earshot! Oh gosh, I'm not ready to deal with this yet! I need time, I need to think, I-
"Naco Nite is no more."
really need to stop jumping to conclusions.
"Oh, and I need three more bucks." A familiar beeping rings out before Kim has time to become fully irked by the request.
"What up, Wade?"
"Drakken's been spotted. The Bermuda Triangle."
On a small nameless island in the Caribbean sits a club that caters to those with too much money and not enough questionable outlets with which to waste it. While technically located just outside of its namesake area of unverified catastrophe, the Bermuda Triangle still pays adequate homage through its bright neon sign animating a sinking ship. Enter the couple with definitely normal and healthy skin tones as they approach the doorman.
"I am here to see your boss." Surprisingly, that seems to be enough to allow access as the rope in front of him is parted. However, the large arm now blocking his way suggests that maybe it is not. He frowns, concluding only one possible reason why such an esteemed individual as himself would be barred entrance. "Shego. Tip the man." Before the snarky retort can even leave her lips, however, the mad scientist quickly becomes aware of an unwelcome sensation around his neck that seems to have undertaken a mission to greatly hinder his air intake. A quick analysis of the object reveals the bowtie the bouncer has snapped onto the underdressed villain. He grumbles in irritation, but is let in along with Shego, her two piece green and black dress not requiring any additional embellishments.
A short distance off the coast, a small fishing boat approaches, carrying occupants that would definitely be less than welcome at such an unscrupulous establishment. On board, said occupants are just about finished donning their scuba gear.
Courteous as ever, Kim offers her gratitude to their ride. "Thanks for the lift, Mr. Bailey."
"Kim, it's the least I can do after you saved me in that hurricane," the skipper offers in that hardened, seafarer gruff which absently makes Ron wonder if the man spends his spare time as a canned spinach mascot.
"No big. It wasn't like it was a perfect storm, or anything. I mean, it was okay." Because of course a category four hurricane gets as casual a reaction as if the low gas light popped on in your car.
Meanwhile, Ron finds this a good time to reiterate the stakes and goals of this night to their resident rodent of many talents. "Eyes and ears, Rufus. This place is wicked bad. We go in, dig the down low, and get out."
"Mm-hm," he acknowledges while snapping on his miniature goggles. A final gear check later, and their night time swim of the Caribbean Sea commences.
After making their way through an electrified underwater fence (standard fare in lair defense, easy enough to cut through), dealing with a school of Hench Co. series C-23 grapple drones (if the world-saving hero thing doesn't work out, Kim has an excellent backup plan as a puppet master if the impromptu show she gave trying to extricate Ron is anything to go by), and collapsing a cave full of laser wielding clams (if she had a nickel for every time she had to turn an oxygen tank into a missile to demolish mollusk based defenses, she'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird it happened twice), the field contingent of Team Possible finally makes it to the beach.
"You think they're trying to keep us out?" Ron muses aloud after removing his rebreather.
"Shh! Hi, undercover." She gestures to the recently used subaquatic infiltration gear to try to drive her point home. As Kim goes for the zipper of her wetsuit, Ron turns his face away and shields his vision, even though he is fully aware that she's wearing a dress underneath. He tries to play up that ladies' man card a lot, but he really is such a gentleman. Really, why doesn't he have a GF? she can't help but ponder as she applies a wig and reverses her equipment bag into a black clutch purse.
Next to change is Rufus, quickly shedding his gear to reveal a stylish tuxedo jacket and shirt, accented by a very tasteful lavender bow tie. While his time as the maître d at Chez Ron was short lived, it did at least have the added bonus of really classing up his wardrobe.
And then it's Ron's turn. Upon doffing his wetsuit, he takes a second to admire his duds before noticing Kim's reaction out of the corner of his eye. From the gaping maw of his best friend, the blond correctly assumes that he's not getting out of this without some sort of an explanation. "What? It was my dad's. He bought it for his prom. Never been worn."
Kim takes in the full extent of the gaudy tuxedo. A powder-blue nightmare straight out of the 80s, complete with a ruffled dress shirt and navy-blue bow tie. Not helped at all by the end caps of his rundown sneakers and as always unkempt mess of blond hair.
It's hideous. Atrocious. A crime that Monique would report to the Fashion Police in a heartbeat and with a clear conscience. Nobody could make that look work.
…
My gosh, he's absolutely adorable in it.
She smiles ever so slightly before shaking her head to clear it. Filing that thought away to deal with later, she switches into mission mode as they start on their way to the club.
They grapple to the roof, a notable occasion in that Ron doesn't lose his pants this time. The vent cover for the air system stands no chance against the nigh on indestructible teeth of a not-so-naked mole rat, and soon they are making their way through the ducts. Kim leads and soon discovers an available point of entry.
"The ladies' room. Good!" She navigates her handbag and locates their techno-wizard's latest and greatest gadget. The tube emits a humming scarlet glow as she twists the bottom.
"Laser lipstick. Sweet!" Ron's excitement quickly switches into mild displeasure. "Hey, how come Wade never makes me cool toys?"
"The time you practically melted your fingers?" She doesn't miss a beat as she simultaneously cuts the grating loose.
He scoffs in indignation before defending himself. "It looked like regular nail polish."
Hooking up the repelling line, Kim recalls the event in question, particularly glad said fingers were saved, as they technically weren't even his.
"As much as I admire your dedication to keeping in character, go without the makeup the next time we switch bodies."
"Next time? You think that's going to happen again?"
"Welcome to our lives, Ron. I'd be surprised if we manage to keep our own brains throughout all of summer vacation," she remarks before descending.
A rueful sign. "Reruns. Such is life." He grabs the line to follow before a feminine hand halts his progress.
"Brain swap sequel hasn't happened yet. Ladies' room, Ron. Men's room should be further down."
Upon a second or two just sitting in something between dry acceptance and slight chagrin, he and Rufus continue down the vent. A vent that seems to be growing darker. Rufus grunts while he hits the dimming flashlight, but it doesn't seem to help. Ah, right. Batteries. Probably shouldn't have prioritized my controller first. And then the light gives out completely.
And then, of course, that Ron Stoppable level of genius strikes as he recalls the tool he picked up very recently that emits illumination.
"Hold on."
Important thing to note: when using a handheld laser, it's typically beneficial to hold the laser. If you by chance lose control of the laser in an enclosed space, dodge like the Dickens and pray nothing gets cut off. He seems to succeed in this front, call it dumb luck or dumb skill, but the vent itself does not share his fortune.
"Ahhhh-!"
Taking a second among the shattered duct pieces on the floor, he sees that he has fallen into one of the club's back hallways. He tries a nearby set of double doors, hoping this is the way to go to find Kim.
It's not. Sitting around a table are four gentlemen. Now, if Ron earned more than a Gentleman's C in social studies, he'd probably be able to determine from where the other three men hail, but all he can place for sure is the man who looks like a literal cowboy. Sure enough, his greeting to the newcomer is steeped in a thick Texas drawl.
"How do? You, uh, The Kid?"
Maybe I can get some info from these guys if I play along, he thinks as he morphs his confused look into one of confidence, or so he thinks. "Yes. Yes, I am," he answers as he walks up to the last empty seat. How hard can it be?
Back in the club proper, Kim exits the ladies' room, lavender dress and wig no worse for wear despite crawling through yards of ductwork. She presses in an earpiece while pulling out the Kimmunicator.
"Wade, I'm in. Any sign of Drakken?"
He quickly checks his screens monitoring the internal cameras and sensors of the club, but his expression isn't promising. "Not that I can see."
"Shego?"
A rapid beeping from his end of the call precedes Wade's panicked yell of, "Turn around!"
She does, and not a moment too soon. The wig doesn't survive the maneuver Kim has to pull to dodge the plasma infused strike, not that anyone would be shedding any tears over its loss. The two fall into their typical rhythm of punches dodged, backflips, improvised defenses, and kicks as they descend to the main dining level.
Need to get to higher ground. To most people, that means simply climbing up some stairs. For Kim, that means leaping up the stairs, vaulting off a railing, and hoisting yourself onto the room's massive chandelier. She's still at the ready, a wise move as Shego wastes no time joining her on the lighting structure. The villainess's dive attack forces Kim to duck to the side, hanging precariously from the edge. Shego tries to press her advantage, but finds the target of her strike suddenly missing as the teen has flipped out of her reach. This is followed up by a leg sweep from the heroine, launching her screaming opponent through the air.
Bad news: one of Shego's blazing hands catches the chandelier support cables, promptly sending it back to the ground. Good news: Kim manages to prevent serious injury by jumping at the last second, arresting her momentum by sliding down a table, and using her remaining forward trajectory to dive under an unoccupied dinner table. Bad news again: she's just noticed a disturbing lack of distraction going on in this room. Precious seconds of her respite pass as she pulls out the Kimmunicator.
"Wade, where's Ron?" The sudden verdant glow that just burst through the table lets her know that the five second break is indeed over.
"Three cowboys."
Okay, so, in reflection, this scouting mission could have gone better in a number of ways. Like maybe if I knew how to play poker. Or bluff. Or had actually started asking these guys for information. Or didn't lose five million worth of Claude in a single hand. Yeah, okay, couldn't have really gone worse.
"Um… go fish?" Ron offers with a wide yet still nervous grin.
The cowboy takes that as all the sign he needs to seize his sizable winnings.
"Okay, good game. Let's not wait so long next time…" the teen's attempted exit is notably cut short when the victor snags him by the head and plops him back in the chair.
"Whoa! I don't think you should stray 'til you back up these chips with your cash money, Kid."
And now I stand corrected.
"I'm… going… for… a… I…"
Good news: Kim promptly bursts into the room at this point, answering Ron's silent prayers for her to get him out of this. Bad news: she's currently dealing with Shego as they land on the table, scattering the chips everywhere. Worse news: said former superheroine seems to be making ground in trying to burn her face off.
"KP!"
There wasn't much point for the call out really, not much he could do to help in this instance. It was just a panicked exclamation for his friend currently in dire peril.
But sometimes, that's enough. Kim spares a quick glance to the side. Ron's alright. Whew. Alright, head back in the game, Possible. A redirect of Shego's hand sends it straight into the table, temporarily trapping her. With a smirk that tells her opponent exactly how much she is going to enjoy hurting her, Kim launches her off the table towards the doors they entered. The prone villainess dodges the incoming kick, and soon the scuffle is back in the hallway.
Enter another visitor, a squat, youthful man with a thin mustache. "Yo! The Kid is in the house! Let's get this party started."
The other players turn to Ron with looks ranging from shock to irritation to rage bigger than Texas. It's at this point, after giving a nervous wave, that he concludes that discretion is the better part of valor in this circumstance. His hasty exit is only minorly hindered by a collision with The Kid, and a mumbled ramble of an apology later, he's gone.
In a secluded backroom sits the owner of the establishment, a man with a penchant for obtaining and relaying information. Currently, that fat man is sitting across from a certain cyan skinned man. After a… ahem… misunderstanding or two initially, they have reached this delicate part of the negotiation procedure. Eyes locked, neither giving an inch, both steadily relinquish their offer before shifting their respective hands over the recently released prizes. After what seems like an eternity, Drakken can wait no more before he snatches the secrets he just acquired from Big Daddy Brotherson.
A maniac joy suffuses as he revels in spoils. "Ah-ha! Now with this top secret code," he opens the paper, "Milk… bread… eggs?" and becomes sufficiently befuddled. "What kind of code is that?"
"My grocery list. You are quite poor at the trading game."
An irritated growl quickly builds in his throat. Yes, his impatience may have caused him to get unceremoniously tossed onto his sidekick's dinner table twice, but really, any reasonable man would lose it now. And he was never really one to listen to reason in the first place.
"Shego!"
"Very well," the rotund man chuckles slightly, " I've had my fun."
"Well I'm glad you've had your fun." He's not. "Now, where can I find the cybertronic technology I need?"
"Ah, cybertronics. Some of the most brilliant minds on the planet struggle with its challenges."
"Well surely someone has cracked it?" The desperation in his voice isn't really helping his case, but there's not really anything he can do about it.
"Indeed. One genius has done just that."
"Hm?"
The information broker beckons him closer to convey the true intelligence the mad doctor has purchased.
"Dr. James Timothy Possible."
A turn Drakken wasn't expecting, but one he'll definitely take. "Ooh, irony. And it's in my favor this time!"
Oh man, oh man, took too long, took way too long, need to help KP! Ron's hurried sprint comes to a dead halt when he reaches the dining area just in time to see Kim hurl three dinner plates at Shego. The first two are blocked, but the last one finds purchase, launching the verdant villainess into a food cart, the momentum not stopping as the impromptu vehicle crashes into the railing and sends her plummeting to the lower floor. Not a bad idea, Ron thinks as he eyes another cart on that level. He dashes for it, lining up while yelling, "Kim!" in warning to his best friend who is once again trading dodged punches and kicks with her foe.
The redhead sees his approach and artfully jumps to avoid it. Shego, however, is not so lucky, caught completely off guard as the makeshift bartering ram smashes her into the nearby stage. The teen swoops upon the chance for interrogation, grabbing the prone woman by the front of her dress and hoisting her up.
"Where's Drakken and what's he up to?"
"Yeah, as if I can understand his whacked plans. Please!"
It's at this point their main topic of conversation joins the fray. "Shego! Time to fly!"
"Next time, Princess." A slight push back followed by a kick to the face does a more than decent job of disengaging the teen. By the time Kim recovers and gives chase, the villainous duo are already on a platform being raised into the sky via helicopter.
Her nemesis manages to get in one last taunt before shrinking away out of earshot. "You think you're all that, but you're not even close!"
The bad guys gone with still no idea of their plans, Kim can't really do anything else but bluntly sum up the situation from the good guys' perspective.
"This is so annoying."
A/N: Alright, admittedly, I'm not the best with fight scenes, but I'm running off the assumption that if you're here, you're familiar enough with the source material to know what a typical KP fight will entail and don't need it described in every minute detail.
So, fun fact. There are actually two different versions of the Bermuda Triangle scene. I didn't realize it until I saw someone reviewing So the Drama and saw a few scenes I hadn't seen before. Turns out the streaming version cuts most of the approach from the water and large chunks of the fight, like the chandelier part and Ron's contribution, while the DVD copy has those extra parts. If you've only seen the short version, I think you can find the longer one online, at least parts of it.
On another note, if you're looking for a snapshot into the secret life of one Bonnie Rockwaller, check out el409554's Bonnie's Big Secret, a hilarious little tidbit about unexpected help from Middleton High's number one diva.
Catch ya next time!
CowtionFish