The New Ron - Chapter 40

“The name's Stoppable.” I paused, raising an eyebrow to myself in the mirror. “Ron Stoppable.”

“Sean Connery, you are not,” Kim smirked, looking me over as she plucked a few pieces of lint from my suit.

“I thought I pulled off the accent pretty well,” I replied, my voice rising to mock-offense.

Kim rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh. Well, Mr. Secret Agent Man, I think you're good to go. It looks like this might be the last outing for this suit, though.”

“It does feel a little tight here and there,” I nodded, extending one of my feet and watching the pant leg ride up just a bit too far. “How's your dress feeling?”

“Just as swanky as the last time I wore it, but... like you said, a little tight here and there,” Kim hummed as she continued to do... woman-things to my clothes in a vain attempt to make them fit or look better.

 “In the chest in particular, huh?” I asked dryly, looking her over.

It was a sleek black number that had been a gift from a high-class socialite we'd saved once upon a time last year. In hindsight, it had been a pretty obvious ploy to dodge owing Kim a favor, but the dress and suit we'd gotten out of it were a cut above what our parents would have been comfortable paying for and they'd helped us blend in for several missions and dinner invites.

Which was something that the series never showed...

Kim and I weren't exactly socialites ourselves, being grounded suburbanite teenagers firmly in the upper-middle-class for all that it mattered, but we so regularly interacted with the rich and powerful that it would be a massive snub to refuse every invite we received.

Parties, though, unlike missions had firm rules.

Firstly, no school nights. Full stop. The 'rents just wouldn't allow us flying to New York or San Fran to attend a millionaire's soiree if they weren't being targeted by a mad scientist or some type of mutant monster if we had school the next day.

Not for the last time, I was sure, I recognized that the Possible and Stoppable clans had strange priorities.

Second, no alcohol. At all. Not even wine coolers, near-beer, or other super-light beverages. That was a rule that, admittedly, Kim and I had... bent once or twice, more out of ignorance than any willing conspiracy. Still, we were American teenagers and both in families that weren't quite teatotalers, but came close. So regardless of how puritanical it seemed by other cultures, Kim and I tried to abstain as much as possible unless it would be unspeakably rude to refuse.

Third, we kept each other in line of sight as much as possible. Again, Kim and I had bent this rule due to necessity, but largely stuck close to it. I suppose it said something that we likely obeyed this one even more than the one about alcohol. While it was strange to consider, I often felt safer around Drakken and Shego than some of the 'very important people' we'd been introduced to at the parties we'd attended.

It really puts Ron's hostility towards Kim's potential romantic targets in perspective when you consider the smarmy sacks of shit who've hit on her.

Most of them, at least, were the teenage children of the elites we'd come to rub shoulders with.

Most of them.

A few of them seemed honestly interested, but the majority very obviously considered Kim Possible to be a notch in their belt or a one-night stand. The ones who were easily a decade older than Kim likely considered worse.

There were other rules in addition to those three, especially about keeping in contact, but those were the big ones.

“And the butt,” Kim admitted, blushing as she self-consciously slid a hand over her backside. “Ugh, I'm going to have to ask mom for a shopping trip soon.”

I considered what I was about to say, then decided to bite the bullet and accept it as an inevitability. Dating two girls at the same time, both of whom were on the popular side of the equation and, therefore, liked to dress the part...

“I could be convinced to tag along,” I stated slowly, Kim's green eyes blinking as what I was offering sank in. “I'm a growing boy too, so there's a bunch of stuff I need to pick up as well.”

A lot of my clothes were still 'legacy items' in one form or another and, even if some of Kim's good taste in fashion had rubbed off on Ron over the years... his wardrobe still needed a lot of work. Too much of it was, frankly, juvenile. Points where deserved, though, those shirts were very comfortable and I'd be keeping a few of them for house-wear. I just didn't need the full stock of two or three dozen that Ron had squirreled away. All but a handful, along with stuff that just no longer fit my more muscled frame, were going to a Goodwill or equivalent whenever I actually got around to boxing everything up.

“You really mean that?” Kim asked, eyes wide and shining as she grinned. “You, Ron Stoppable, are offering to come shopping with me?”

I sighed deeply. “I need clothes, you need clothes, and I should at least try to pretend I'm an attentive boyfriend.”

“Plenty of the girls on the squad bitch about their boyfriends never coming shopping,” Kim informed me bluntly. “It's like they're scared or something.”

“Shopping for clothes is a losing proposition for guys,” I informed Kim with a shake of my head.

Kim blinked. “Oh? How so?”

“Men's fashion is a lot simper than women's, first off. So we're mostly aiming for comfort rather than appearance. Looks-wise, almost anything goes that isn't too loud or too plaid. Bonus points if it has your favorite brand of whatever on it.” I stopped briefly in my explanation, reaching for my bow tie and beginning to wrestle it into place. “That means that when men go shopping, we're not really interested in the clothes or colors or styles... we're looking for something that fits, is reasonably tough, and won't give us a rash. For most guys, shopping isn't a fun activity one does with friends, it's a chore. A means to an end so we don't end up indecent one day.”

Kim sucked in a breath. “That... makes a lot of sense.”

“Not done yet,” I informed her as I continued trying to tie the stupid thing around my neck. “Fashion is also usually a girl's thing. Paying too much attention to your appearance, knowing too much about clothing... those are traditionally pretty... well, effeminate things.”

“It frustrates me that I can't say you're wrong about that,” Kim muttered irritably, her eyes narrowed. “Being able to look good isn't just a girl's thing! We like guys who don't look trashy!”

“I feel like the Mad Dog has been around enough cheerleaders to know that you girls also like guys who do look trashy,” I commented idly.

“You'll lose those privileges if I tell the girls you're listening in on our gender's trade secrets,” Kim replied with a smirk.

I snorted. “Anyway... yeah, so if a guy willingly goes shopping and extends actual effort picking out clothes, they're emasculated by their peers. If they don't go shopping and expend effort, they're bitched at by girls who care about that stuff for being oblivious.”

I paused and turned to Kim. “No offense.”

The redhead narrowed her gaze, but was smirking still. “Some taken, but... yeah, I can get that. It sucks, but I understand it. I guess if you're going to let me in on the guy secrets you can keep listening in on the girl ones, too. Just don't tell other boys at school, okay?”

I nodded absently. “Because they'd use their understanding of your cliques, fads, and interpersonal relationships to manipulate the cheerleaders for their own nefarious purposes.”

Kim blinked, cocking her head and looking at me oddly as she leaned against the door frame to her closet. “Yeah, they would. Thanks for understanding, Ron.”

Shrugging, I tried to play it off casually. “Don't worry about it, I just like using the word 'nefarious' in casual conversation. It's fun.”

Tension in her shoulders eased and Kim giggled. “Now, if only Tara would finish getting ready!”

“Almost done!” The other girl called from down the wooden staircase. “Bathroom's all yours, Kim!”

“-and that's my cue!” Kim stated, picking up a bag of cosmetics and heading towards the stairs, stopping only to plant a kiss on my cheek. “That's for being sweet and insightful.”

 “I aim to please,” I replied with a grin.

 As Kim hurried off towards the bathroom to make herself ready for our night out, I heard her gasp and shower Tara with compliments. Internally, I reflected that it was probably for the best that Jim and Tim were still laid up downstairs. Both of them only had hairline fractures, but they'd still be wearing the casts for another two weeks minimum, which meant they were largely confined to the couch downstairs. Even Tim, who'd broken his arm instead of his leg, was 'grounded' from their shared room in the name of preventing them from making a bigger mess in the meantime and injuring themselves further.

Which meant Kim got to quietly rejoice in having her own personal bathroom for a month.

“You're a vision of loveliness, Tara,” I smiled as she climbed the short flight of stairs.

The blond girl giggled and blushed. “You really think so? I don't have anything fancy like you and Kim. This was just something Mom bought me for a cousin's wedding a few months back.”

It definitely wasn't on par with Kim's slinky 'little black dress,' but that didn't make it anything less than beautiful. Sky blue with white accents, it was a bit more modest with embellishments that hid the fact it clung to her form fairly well. The bust-line was a little risque with how low it dipped, but Tara wore it well enough to call it stylish rather than... well, anything else.

“Definitely looking good,” I grinned and approached her, pulling her into a soft hug to ensure I wouldn't wrinkle her dress. “Absolutely beautiful.”

Tara giggled and hugged me back with equal tenderness. “Careful, you'll make me tear up and ruin my makeup.”

“That would be absolutely awful,” I smiled at her. “The only time you're allowed to cry is when I'm spanking you.”

“But you haven't spanked me!” Tara squeaked.

“Not yet!” I replied with a grin, poking her forehead lightly. “So no crying, right?”

Tara stared, then began giggling wildly, almost doubling over. “You're such a dork, Ron Stoppable!”

“If the hero thing ever falls through, I was thinking about dorking professionally,” I confided in her, making the girl snort and spaz out in more giggles.

“You're such a big dork you probably could make a career out of it,” Tara admitted, only a pleasant flush to her cheeks hinting at the recent bout of humor as she checked her watch. “Let's go ahead and head downstairs. Bonnie said her mom should be dropping her off soon.”

“And that's something to look forward to,” I nodded obediently, my voice as dry as the desert.

“You promised you'd behave,” Tara pouted at me, crossing her arms.

I raised my hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Hey, I'm behaving! This is me behaved!”

Tara gave me a lingering stare with a frown, her expression doubtful.

“Seriously. You think Bonnie is going to be okay with Kim and I just letting her bulldoze over us. You know her. She thrives on the witty repartee. If she doesn't get it from us, she's going to piss off someone with a lot of money where we're going.” My explanation made Tara blink, then frown.

“You're a lot smarter than you let on most of the time, Ron,” Tara commented idly.

“I mean... Kim's got her thing and I've got mine,” I shrugged. “She sees the best in people and I... well, I see the other things.”

Tara's look turned soft. “That's a depressing way to look at it.”

“I call it pragmatic,” I replied with a grin. “Besides, if what I see lets me help protect the people I care about... that's a happy thought, isn't it?”

Tara breathed in, her expression lightening as her eyebrows rose. “How in the hell do people think you're a loser?”

I winked. “Because I let them?”

Tara blinked, staring at me. “You...”

Flipping up one finger, I brought it to my lips and gave her a small smirk. “Kim gets it, a little bit at least, but don't let other people in on the joke, okay? Though I wouldn't be surprised if Bonnie has figured something out...”

“You know... I think you and Bonnie would have made great friends if you'd met her before Kim,” Tara commented oddly.

This time it was my turn to pause in surprise, cocking my head as the thought percolated. “Huh... now that's a thought. Promise that I'll be there when you pitch it to Bonnie?”

I wonder if that's actually happened a few times out there in the wild, wild multiverse?

It wasn't as though I didn't know there were other worlds out there. There was, as I recall, an episode where one of Drakken's inventions allowed Kim, Ron, himself, and Shego to jump through various television channels. That, plus my own experiences... well, I could entirely imagine a world where Bonnie Rockwaller and Ron Stoppable became the best of friends.

Would that Ron naturally be closer to 'me' than a Ron who grew up with Kim as his friend?

It was... certainly a thought.

“You're horrible!” Tara giggled, the mood broken.

“-don't you brats dare get anything on me!”

Both Tara and I sighed as we heard a voice echo through the house, simultaneously turning towards the stairway to belatedly descend to meet up with Bonnie.

“Ron, you got that?” Kim called from the bathroom.

“In the process of getting,” I confirmed.

“And helping!” Tara called back.

“Be out in five!” Kim replied.

Thankfully, we arrived to see that Mrs. Dr. Possible had Bonnie sitting in a chair at the dining table instead of allowing her to linger in the living room.

“Whoa, lookin' sharp Ron!” Tim shouted, waving his good arm.

“Oooh! Tara's looking pretty!” Jim chimed in. “Ron and Tara-”

“Sitting in a tree!” Tim caught the rhythm.

“K-I-S-S-” Jim returned, before Tara rolled her eyes and rose up on her toes and gave me a quick peck on the lips, silencing them.

“Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go check my lipstick,” Tara smiled at the stunned boys, and I just grinned as I followed her out.

“Finally!” Bonnie sighed as we entered the dining room. “Let's get to this party already!”

I caught Anne Possible's eye and gave her a quick nod of thanks as she rolled her own green orbs in exasperation. “Kim's going to be a few more minutes, actually. I know my way around the Possible kitchen, though, can I get you anything to drink?”

“Water! I don't want to risk anything getting on my dress!” Bonnie demanded imperiously as Tara stepped forward to run interference.

“As you wish, your majesty,” I mock-bowed and turned towards the kitchen area.

“Let's hope Kim finishes up fast,” Anne muttered to me out the side of her mouth as I passed.

“You and me both,” I replied in an undertone.

A ding on my team communicator alerted me to the arrival of another piece of the puzzle as well. “Looks like our ride is here, too.”

~~~

Okay, this one is just a short chapter to bridge the events before the rich-people party with the Seniors. I'm not entirely happy about it, but I'm willing to see what people think of it.

If there's any feedback, I'll consider a little revision on this one.

Otherwise, of course, I hope everyone enjoys it.

Winners for this month are Mind Games, of course, with Industrious taking up second place, and The Hand We're Dealt bringing up a surprising third. The New Ron got barely beaten out and took fourth, while Where Your God Is took last place at fifth.

I'll have the Awesome Tier poll up in a few hours as well.