A/N: Greetings, dear readers. I know that many of you have been waiting for Epic Sitch Eye Eye. That's still coming. Until then, please enjoy Epic Sitch: Big Monkey on Campus, which takes place during Kim and Ron's first year at Middleton College.

BTW, if you'd like to know how this and other stories I've written fit into the Epic Sitch timeline, please visit my author's profile which now has a handy chronology and family tree.

Thanks to campy for his ever-valuable proofing and beta services.

Write a review, get a response.

If you saw it on KP, it belongs to Disney.

---

I.

She felt like a sheep, a crushing sheep.

She hadn't felt this way about someone in a very long time. All she could do was think about him. About his piercing eyes. His deep, basso voice. His short brown hair. His strong jaw. His distinctive personality.

She hadn't been looking for a new relationship. She thought she'd be satisfied with the one true great love of her life.

But that was before she went to the Foody Faire.

It had happened in Aisle Six, by the cereal. She was reaching for a carton of Bran Nuggets and a box fell to the floor. She reached down to pick it up, but before she could, he had retrieved it for her.

She could still get a frisson of pleasure from the memory of how their eyes had locked. There had been an awkward silence, then some hemming and hawing. And then they began to talk.

Politely, diffidently even, he asked if she might like to go to Charluck's for a cup of coffee. She didn't hesitate to accept his invitation. He had been such a gentleman that day – and every day since.

She knew she was in love.

And she would have to tell Ron.

II.

Ron Stoppable, Middleton College freshman, sat on the couch munching away at cheese and crackers. If pressed, he would have admitted to being satisfied with the selection: he enjoyed the Edam, and the Cheddar was outstanding; the Stilton, however, was most definitely not to his liking. Had Rufus been asked his opinion of that famous English cheese, the naked mole rat would surely have said "Ewww! Stinky!" and Ron would have agreed.

As Ron reached for more snackage, he glanced at the other students. All of them, Kim Possible included, seemed mesmerized by their host. Ron, however, wasn't. That was because he really wasn't sure what the guy was talking about. All he knew for certain was that the academic had a pretty high opinion of himself. Ron had known way too many full-of-themselves guys over the years not to recognize one immediately, and so felt little need to pay attention.

Ron thought of the Exterminator II premier he was missing. Kim had known how much he had wanted to see the latest Jimmy Blamhammer production. But she had received this invitation to a small gathering at the home of her international relations professor, who was on a first-name basis with the previous President of the United States, and she so wanted to go. He'd resigned himself to seeing the film on his own, but she made it clear that she wanted Ron with her. That meant a lot to him – even more than seeing a movie starring the governor of California playing a rampaging, cigar-smoking, girlie-man-crushing destroyer of French-speaking synthodrones. For while Ron Stoppable may have been a lowly frosh, struggling in his classes, he felt he was the Big Man On Campus because he was Kim Possible's boyfriend. And, much to his constant bafflement, she seemed to revel in their status as a couple as much as he did. So, when she asked him to join her at her professor's, he readily agreed.

Kim and Ron had been a couple for more than a year and a half and best friends for more than fourteen. Of course they had the odd tiff and difference of opinion, which was to be expected in a relationship of such duration. Too, they were still young and adjusting to college life and they were both in their first serious relationship. Ron also had the added pressures of trying to rebuild a business, one that had been destroyed the spring of their senior year of high school by none other than Dr. Drakken.

Ron found himself reflecting on how he and his pretty, smart, multi-talented, world-saving best friend girlfriend had been successfully navigating these obstacles in addition to a variety of other challenges as they deepened and explored their relationship. As he popped some Havarti into his mouth, he concluded that life was good, very good, if a bit stress-filled and devoid of an action-movie premiere. He had a board full of quality cheese before him and an auburn-haired beauty by his side. Yes, it's good to be the Ronman, he thought.

"… Definitely need for more regulation of business; only the government can ensure the proper distribution of resources …"

Ron found himself jolted from his reverie. "Uh, excuse me?" he asked, hesitantly.

Kim looked at her best friend boyfriend, surprised to hear him speak. He'd been quiet all evening, seemingly content with snacking. She felt a twinge of shame as she found herself hoping he wasn't about to say something, well, Ronnish.

"Yes, Mr. Stoppable?" the professor responded.

Ron thought the man's tone rather condescending, though he was willing to give the guy points for remembering his name.

"Did you just say there needs to be more regulation?" Ron asked.

"Yes. Of course," the professor answered.

"Of course … why?"

"Why?

"Yeah, why?"

"Because business can't be trusted."

"Ah, I see," Ron said coolly. "You know, I'm 'business'," he said, making air quotes. "Badical Burrito? You might remember it? Home of the Kimarito and other bon-diggity Tex-Mex treats, not to mention the only restaurant in the history of Middleton to be vaporized by an orbiting ray gun?"

The professor smiled. "Yes, how could I forget …" he said while making a face that made clear that while he may have heard of BB he had a more sophisticated palate, would never have dined there, and thought the eatery's destruction was not that great a loss.

"Yeah, well you know what it takes to actually build something in this town? How many permits I have to file? How many meetings I have to attend? I know the guys at the planning board so well that they're kind of like my peeps now."

"Well, Ron, that's part of being a responsible business person," the academic said in a tone usually reserved by parents for willfully obtuse children.

"No, Professor," Ron shot back. "That's two kids who don't get a job because I'm paying for some fancy-pants lawyer to push paper to keep somebody's cousin at City Hall in a job."

"Perhaps you could keep a little less for yourself, hire those kids, and still meet your obligations," the professor said in silken tones.

Kim found herself watching with horrid fascination as Ron became visibly agitated. She felt bad for him. But she also wondered if he was overreacting.

"You ever have a real job?" Ron asked.

Okay, now he's overreacting, Kim thought. "Ron!" she hissed.

"What?" the academic asked, surprised.

"You know, one without life-time job protection? You ever have to meet a payroll? Deal with suppliers? I work hard for my money. Why should the government have the right to just take it away?" Ron asked, his annoyance showing. "Sorry, Prof, I'm not buying. We need less government, not more of it."

"Ron, maybe when you're older and a bit more experienced, you'll see things differently. Government does a lot of good."

"He's right about that, Ron," Kim said, resting her hand on his arm.

Ron stared incredulously at his BFGF. "You're on his side?"

"Ron, it's not about sides," she replied, somewhat exasperated.

"No, I'm sure it's not, KP," Ron said, a little more sharply than he intended. "But let's go to the video tape. Kim Possible, teen hero, saves the world what, about 100 times, over the last five years. Why? Because the stupid government can't do its job!"

"Ron …" Kim growled.

"You want Global Justice coming to your rescue?" he asked as he turned back to his host. Before the man could utter a word, Ron answered for him. "I don't think so. When you're in trouble, you're going to call Kim or Team Impossible to take care of your evil problem."

"That only means there's a lot of evil to go around. Maybe there'd be less if we started to look at the root causes rather than wait to react to each situation," the professor suggested.

"Root causes," Ron sneered. "I'll give you root causes: whack bad guys with dreams of ruling the world. Two words: EEE—VILLLL. End of story."

"Now, Ron, you know it's not that simple …"

"Oh really? Let's see. Let's try Drakken. What was his root cause? Hmmm," Ron mused, exaggerating the gestures of thoughtfulness. "Oh yeah. His college buds laughed at him when he couldn't get a date …"

Kim was cringing; Ron was most definitely making a scene. She actually agreed with a lot of what he was saying; there was a reason she declined Betty Director's offer of a formal position with GJ. But this was her professor. And these were her classmates, some of the college's brightest students. She had been honored when she, a first-year student, had been allowed to enroll in the seminar, which was usually reserved for juniors and seniors. And now everyone was staring at Ron, mouths agape, as if he were the village madman running down the streets stark naked.

"… You know what, Prof?" Ron continued. "You can sit here and talk all about root causes all you want. KP and me, we've actually dealt with Evil Incorporated."

Kim's professor was offended by how Ron, a lowly freshman, was challenging him; over the last twenty years, the man had grown accustomed to student adulation. But over that time he'd also learned to control his temper, a byproduct of attending many venomous faculty meetings. He was prepared to give Ron the rope with which he could hang himself.

"Ron, I can see you're upset," he said sympathetically. "Understandably so, in light of your injury …"

Ron bristled. He was still very sensitive about his leg, which had been seriously injured during the climactic battle on the Drake Star, the hijacked, modified space station from which Drakken, then Bonnie Rockwaller, had planned to seize control of the Earth the previous spring. Ron was walking with a cane and a very pronounced limp. The young man who once confidently sauntered down the street now practically dragged his right leg behind him. He'd been told that despite the strides he was making doing physical therapy he would never walk perfectly again. It still remained an open question as to whether he'd be able to go back into the field with Kim, which was a source of immense frustration to him, even as she said she'd permanently give up her hero work if he were unable to resume his place as her partner.

She saw how tense Ron had become. She squeezed his arm again but he shrugged her off.

He looked at the older man through narrowed eyes. "Don't talk down to me."

"What?" the professor asked, taken aback.

"You heard me, dude. Don't talk down to me. Not until you get off your butt, get out of this ivory tower, and get your hands dirty," Ron said, rising from his seat. "KP, I'm outta here."

Ron grabbed his cane and, as best he could, stalked out of the room and the house.

III.

"You could have stood up for me!" Ron said heatedly.

"Ron, you were so out of control in there!" Kim responded, trying both to reason with her boyfriend and control her temper.

"Oh really? Let's see: I was right, he was clueless and you were silent!"

"Ron, whether you were right is so not the point. You were ferociously rude!"

"I was rude? He talked to me like I was an idiot!"

"Well, if you didn't behave like one …"

"What? Oh, I'm sooooo sorry if I embarrassed you in front of your big-shot professor and smarty-pants upperclassmen friends."

"I didn't say that, Ron," Kim growled, though truth be told, he had done exactly that, though the person's opinion who still mattered most to her was the tow-haired, large-eared, freckled young man before her. She could still be amazed at how much weight his words carried with her.

"Yeah, well it sure felt that way. You know, KP, this is like the college version of high school. It feels like the food chain all over again, except this time it's brains."

Kim stared at Ron. "I cannot believe you! That is so not fair!"

"Oh yeah? Then why'd you sit there nodding like a bobblehead when Pompous Poindexter just babbled on about stuff he knows nothing about?" Ron asked, waving his hands in the air.

"I so did not nod like a bobblehead!" Kim snapped. "And maybe he's not completely clueless, Ron; he was an advisor to the President of the United States. I know that may not be as impressive as inventing the Naco, but it should count for something. You know, even you could learn something. Unless you're going to tell me that you're suddenly maintaining a perfect GPA."

Ron snorted. "You know what, Kim, if anybody here needs to learn something, it's you. Like Dr. Strangelove was giving you the eye tonight."

"Ron, that is ridiculous …" she said with a roll of the eyes before a look of dawning awareness spread across her face. "This is unbelievable! You're jelling. You're actually jelling over my professor! Don't tell me you actually think I'd leave you to have some fling with a teacher …"

Ron thought no such thing and was just about to de-escalate when Kim barreled on.

"… You know, Ron, you can be so ferociously insecure at times. Maybe it's time for you to grow up!"

"Grow up? Look who's talking!" Until that moment, Ron had thought nothing of the fact that while Kim was leading the life of a normal college freshman, including joining clubs and participating in extracurricular activities, he was spending almost every free moment he had outside of classes and time he spent with her trying to get the Badical Burrito back in business. Ron had always thought college was going to be a blast, one never-ending party like the ones he'd seen and finally attended during the trip he took to Florida with the Possibles during his and Kim's sophomore year of high school; instead, his freshman year had turned out to be filled with tests, papers, and planning board meetings. Somehow, he realized, he'd gone from seventeen to middle-aged. "Which one of us is actually trying to run a business," he jabbed, "and which one of us is a, a … cheerleader?" he asked dismissively.

Kim's eyes grew wide. "You are such the jerk!"

"Hmmmph. I'm a jerk? Then maybe you should just go hang with your smart peeps back there, you, you brain snob!"

Kim stared at her BFBF, unable to believe he was saying such hurtful things. Through gritted teeth, she hissed, "Maybe I will, Ronald!"

Then she turned and walked towards her professor's house.

"Yeah, well you go do that," Ron yelled at Kim's receding back, before storming off himself.

IV.

Kim didn't return to her instructor's home; she knew she was far too angry to enjoy anyone's company. Instead, livid, she stalked back to her room. She could not believe that Ron had spoken to her that way. He was supposed to be her BFBF, her best friend boyfriend. He was supposed to love her.

But if he really does love me, she asked herself as she began an internal rant, is that any way for him to treat me? I cannot believe he called me a Brain Snob! What, am I only supposed to hang out with dummies? It's not my fault if he doesn't feel comfortable around my classmates. And I can't believe Captain Video Game had the nerve to tell me that I need to grow up! He's the one who's such a … child! I mean, to think someone like my professor would hit on me! I can't believe I actually talked to Ron about getting married someday! He so needs to grow up.

Kim noticed the print of the junior prom picture of her and Ron, wondering where that loving, goofy guy had gone. Somehow, he'd been replaced by a full-of-himself Donald Trump-wannabe; sure, he spent time with her and was actually taking his schoolwork seriously, but all he seemed to want to do was spend time at his stupid BB. Feeling wounded and angry, she threw the photo into her desk drawer. Then for good measure, she tossed the rare Cuddle Buddies he'd given her in with the picture, too, before slamming the drawer shut.

V.

Fourteen years and that's what I get? an outraged Ron thought. He couldn't believe Kim had said those things – done those things. Just turned on him. It was like Monkey Boy all over again. To think she thought I thought she'd cheat on me? That is so incredibly wrong-sick! But ignore me, take me for granted, well, it's not like we haven't been there before! he thought sourly.

Ron felt like he had been killing himself, that he was barely keeping his head above water. And it was all for Kim, all so she wouldn't be embarrassed by her boyfriend the dummy. He was slaving away at the business so they'd have the money that would allow her to do the things she wanted do when they graduated. But did she know that? Did she even care? Nooooo! She was Kim Possible, the girl who could do anything. Even be a lousy best friend and a lousy girlfriend. He looked around the room, then tossed her picture in a drawer. You wanna look at me, KP, you'd better say 'sorry' first.

VI.

Kim sat on her bed, her knees pulled up to her chin, and scowled. She stared ahead, shooting daggers at the door as it closed behind the receding figure. It was bad enough that Ron had been such the world-class jerk, but to then have to deal with her roommate Ashley was just too much. Kim was angry with Monique for moving to Paris, Tara for enrolling at Upperton, and Justine for taking that teaching position at MIT, leaving her to live with the witch she'd been assigned by the Housing Office. Kim was furious with her roommate for goading her and furious with herself for letting the snooty girl get to her.

Ashley Maynard had two great hobbies. The first seemed to be making out with every available guy at Middleton College. The other was taunting Kim.

It was only after her arrival at the College that Kim began to understand that there were people other than Bonnie Rockwaller who resented her and couldn't care less about all the times she'd saved the world. Kim had never sought recognition, though she had to admit she enjoyed it. But that guilty pleasure aside, all she ever really wanted to do was help people, and so it hurt that there were those who questioned her motives. Some saw her as a publicity hound who, in her quest for glory and fame, had no qualms about making law enforcement personnel look bad at their jobs. Others were convinced that she was actually on the payroll of the CIA, or because she was dating Ron, who was Jewish, the Israeli Mossad. She'd been mortified on Registration Day when she was greeted by some students carrying banners that declared her to be an "Agent of Imperialism" – though that wasn't as bad as being publicly accused by a professor of being a covert operative for the government; that had made for an interesting in-class discussion. Finally, there were those who liked to play armchair psychologist, who wondered about what drove Kim to do battle with whack villains on a regular basis. The worst of those were the ones who speculated that it had to do with sublimated desires to be with Shego.

Ashley fell into the third camp. Personally, Kim had no problem with girls who liked girls; she just knew she wasn't one of them. She'd always liked guys and had absolutely no interest in women that way. If people wanted to think otherwise, all of the evidence to the contrary, that was their problem. Kim just thought the idea of kissing another girl was gorchy. But that was easy to ignore. Far different, and truly sickening to her, was the idea of kissing her enemy. Why anyone would think she'd ever want to be intimate with someone who had tried to kill her on more than one occasion was beyond comprehension, and a source of aggravation since it bespoke a belief that she was seriously unbalanced.

When Kim stormed into her room and Ashley oh-so-innocently asked what was bothering her, Kim, without thinking snapped, "I had a fight with Ron, okay?"

"Oh?"

"Yes, he's being an immature jerk. You happy?"

"Don't look at me, Possible," Ashley said. "What makes you happy is your business. But maybe you should think about why you fought. Maybe it's because you and that dork aren't compatible. Maybe, sub-consciously, you're pushing him aside because you want to be with your true soul-mate, Shego."

Kim rolled her eyes and groaned in frustration, "How many times do I have to tell you that I don't like Shego?"

"Sure you don't, Possible," the girl from Upperton Heights said as she got up to leave the room. "I can understand why you'd be embarrassed by your feelings. Supposed teen hero in love with her arch foe, the master criminal who tried to take over the world. Mix in some weird bondage stuff. Definitely not good for your precious reputation. Well, I won't be back tonight, so if you finally want to face facts and have your dream girl over, be my guest!"

Kim could hear Ashley's taunting laughter through the closed door as her roommate made her way down the corridor. Seething, Kim hurled Pandaroo at the door, then glared at her Kimmunicator, hoping Wade would call. She was so in the mood to roundhouse somebody.

VII.

Ron, slack-jawed, stared at his mother.

His whole world seemed to be spinning uncontrollably off its axis. First there was the argument with Kim the previous evening. He was still feeling burned by that. But now there was this news, this grande-sized bombshell, from his mother. It wasn't that Ron didn't want her to be happy; he did. And he knew his father, who had passed away during the spring of Ron's senior year of high school, wouldn't have begrudged her this unexpected development; it had just happened and Ron knew Don Stoppable would be pleased for the woman he loved. But of all the guys in Middleton …

"Steve Barkin?" he asked incredulously.

"He's a wonderful man, Ronnie. Polite, caring, sensitive."

"Sensitive?" Ron said, blinking his eyes. "Did you say sensitive?"

"Yes," she said, bristling. "Sensitive. He likes Jane Austen …"

Rugby-playing, muscles-define-the-man, I'd-rather-be-in-combat Steve Barkin liked Jane Austen? Ron thought, convinced that reality as he knew it was indeed coming to an end.

"… And I love his deep, manly voice. When he purrs …"

"TMI, Mom!" Ron said, waving his hands wildly, trying to ward off images that he felt no one should have to contemplate. To Ron, Steve Barkin being romantic just seemed as believable as a friendly, well-intentioned garden gnome.

"Ronnie, please give him a chance," Barbara Jo said as she reached across the kitchen table. "I know the two of you didn't always get along when you were in high school, but being with him makes me happy. I never imagined anyone could make me feel this way again."

Ron sighed. "Okay, Mom. You win. I'll try to keep an open mind about this. But let's get one thing clear: if you two ever get married, he does not get some special step-dad right to give me detention!"

Barbara Jo Stoppable smiled. "Deal. Now, I was wondering if you and Kim could come over for dinner later this week. I thought it would be nice for the four of us to spend some time together."

Ron scowled. "I'll be here. Don't know about Kim," he said sullenly.

"Ronnie, did you two have a fight?"

"No, she has a bad case of Food Chain Syndrome and until she gets over it, I'm not talking to her."

"Ronnie, you know …"

"Mom, not now," he cut her off. "I don't want to talk about this."

Barbara Jo, seeing the expression on her son's face, relented. She just hoped Kim and Ron would make up, and soon. She knew Ron would be lost without Kim, even if he didn't want to admit it. And after spending so many months feeling lost without Don, she didn't want her boy to experience the same emptiness. Still, she recognized that Ron would have to figure this one out on his own.

VIII.

After spending the better part of the day pounding the pavement, then hitting, punching, and kicking things at the gym, Kim had gone home for Sunday dinner. She had hoped spending some time with her mom and dad would cheer her up, but found it was all too easy to wallow in her own anger and self-pity. She still couldn't believe that Ron had accused her of being a brain snob. And the Food Chain crack had been crushing.

She was satisfied when her parents agreed that Ron had clearly lost his temper and acted poorly the previous evening. James in particular had not been happy that Ron had yelled at his daughter. Ann didn't seem pleased either, which was why Kim was taken by surprise when she began to suggest that perhaps she, too, might have been at fault.

Kim lost no time in cutting off her mother.

"I so don't need you to defend Ron, Mom. He was such the jerk."

"That may be true, dear, but he does have a point. You have been known to worry about the Food Chain," Ann said reasonably.

"You know, Kimmie-cub, as ticked as I am with Ronald for saying those things to you, I have to agree with your mother," James added.

Stunned, then angry, she glared at her parents. "I cannot believe you two! You're as bad as Ron."

Without another word, Kim got up from the table, left her childhood home, stomped all the way back to her dorm room, changed back into her gym clothes, and returned to the campus athletic center to resume her abuse of the punching bag and other pieces of defenseless gym equipment.

IX.

"Yo, Stoppable, what up?" Felix Renton asked as he wheeled into their room on Monday morning, returning from a weekend out of town. Neither he nor Ron had Monday morning classes, which made going away much easier.

"Nothing," Ron responded sullenly, as he stared at the monitor, half-heartedly playing video games.

Felix looked around the room, noticing the pizza box, chips bags … and empty wine bottles. He knew that Ron's mentor and sometime-employer Henri the chef had no qualms about passing along fine wine to his underage protégé. Somehow, though, Felix didn't think the great cook was expecting Ron to use expensive vintages to go on a bender. Felix wondered what was going on when he noticed the Junior Prom picture of Ron and Kim missing.

"What happened, Ron?"

"Nothing," he snapped.

"Right. You only appear to be hung over because it only looks like you and Kim had a fight …"

"No, she decided to be a jerk and I decided not to take it anymore."

"What are you talking about?"

Ron told Felix about the events of Saturday night.

"You IDIOT!"

"What? You too? I don't need this," Ron whined.

"Oh yes you do, Stoppable. Did it ever occur to you that in your moment of pride you pressed Kim's hottest insecurity buttons?"

"Huh?"

"Let's see. Junior Year. Food Chain. That makes her feel great as she gets to take a stroll down memory lane with Eric the synthodrone and the time she blew off her best friend. Grow up/cheerleader. Yeah just what Miss Type-A Girl needs: Rondo to tell her to stop having a little fun. A great idea since she's not doing what she loves most – saving the world – because of you and her refusal to take on a new partner as long as you're out of action. So, yeah, go ahead and belittle the other hobby she enjoys, cheerleading! Nice work, Einstein. You know, the best part was calling her names. 'Brain snob.' Now that was absolutely brilliant!"

Ron gawped at Felix. The reality of what he'd done, of the resentment and insecurity he'd allowed to explode into the open, hit him with tidal-wave force. He dropped his head into his hands. "Aww, man. What did I do? I, I blew it, didn't I? I really do need to grow up. She must hate me!"

"Get a grip, Ron. I'm sure she still loves you, though she's probably still majorly ripped. If I were you, I'd get some flowers and beg!"

"Beg? Yeah, beg. That's it. Beg!" Ron began to ramble. "Felix, you're right!" Ron added with sudden determination. "I'm gonna find KP right now and grovel!"

"Sounds like a plan," Felix agreed. "But one more piece of advice …"

"Yeah?" Ron asked.

"Take a shower first. You reek …"

X.

Kim arrived at her professor's office; he said at the beginning of the semester that he wanted to meet individually with each of his students. It was pure coincidence that her appointment was that day. She just hoped that her professor wouldn't hold Ron's outburst the other night against her.

She was still angry with Ron. But as angry as she was, she was even more hurt that he still hadn't called to apologize. Some of the things he had said had really cut. Still, even if their fight was wholly his fault, it bothered her that they hadn't spoken since Saturday evening. She wasn't sure what to do next regarding her "Ron sitch" and now felt like she needed time to think things over. Ron, however, would have to wait for later.

Kim knocked.

"Come in," a voice called out.

Kim opened the door and went in. She admired all of the books in the room. He really is brilliant. So well read, she thought.

"Hello, Kim," the professor said, indicating the couch. "Please have a seat."

Kim sat down and noticed a tray of tea and cookies on the low table before her, thinking it was all very civilized. A nice change of pace from Pop Pop Porter's … she mused. She was glad she had put on a nice top and a skirt. Dressing-up seemed appropriate given their surroundings.

Her professor rose from his desk and sat next to her. "May I pour you some?" he asked, indicating the teapot.

"Please and thank you," Kim replied.

The man poured some Darjeeling into the bone china cup.

Then, much to her surprise, he put his hand on her thigh.

Kim's blood ran cold.

There was only one person's hands she liked on her body.

Ron's.

And Ron had warned her.

And she had ignored him.

And yelled at him.

And dismissed him and every one of his concerns.

Because of … the Food Chain.

Nice work, Possible! she thought. He really is the perfect guy for me. He knows me so well. And I just pushed him away because I was worried about what other people might think. I didn't even want to listen to him. I have to find him …

Kim looked at her professor and smiled.

He grinned back at her. "So, Kim …"

"Did you know that I know sixteen kinds of kung fu? And that my boyfriend is one of just a handful of people in the world who knows Tai Xing Pek Kwar? While Ron's leg's been slowing him down a bit, he's still pretty dangerous. Would you believe he actually once karate chopped a stack of concrete cinder blocks in half?" she asked before adding, "With his head?"

The professor stared dumbly at Kim.

"You can move your hand now," Kim said sweetly, before adding with palpable menace in her voice, "please and thank you."

"Uh, yes, sure …"

"I'll bring my course withdrawal card for you to sign tomorrow," Kim announced as she rose from her seat. "Have a nice day."

"Kim, look, I …" the professor stammered.

"By the way, you know what? Ron was so right. You really are a Pompous Poindexter."

XI.

"No! That one!" Ron said, pointing at the huge bouquet of roses. "Wait. The other one. I know! I'll take both of them!"

The florist was bemused. Not to mention quite happy, too, knowing the panicking college boy was about to drop a whole lot of Claude on flowers …

XII.

Kim exited the faculty office and began striding purposefully towards Ron's dorm room. Before long, she had broken into a sprint. She was frantic. It had taken just one moment for her anger to turn into sheer terror as she realized just how much she missed Ron the past two days. Forty-eight hours without Ron had been awful. As she contemplated the prospect of an entire life without him, she began to run even faster.

XIII.

Kim used her Kimmunicator to bypass the electronic lock on the entrance to Ron's dorm, then ran down the hall to his room. She knocked on the door. There was no answer. As it was late morning, she was sure that even he wouldn't be asleep. He had to have gone out and Felix apparently wasn't in either.

She wasn't sure what to do. Her first thought was that he might be at the BB construction site. A quick conversation with the foreman revealed that he wasn't there. She found herself wishing Wade still had Ron chipped. Then she realized that Ron could be traced via his Kimmunicator.

She called Wade.

"I need you to find Ron," she said before Wade even had a chance to say hello.

Wade's fingers flew over his keyboard. After a few seconds, he looked at Kim. "That's funny. His Kimmunicator is about three feet from you, Kim."

"Spankin'," she grumbled. "Thanks, Wade," she added before ending the call.

She took a moment to evaluate the sitch. Ron seemed to have left the device behind. Of course, she thought, after Saturday night, why would he bother to take it with him?

She was unsure of what to do next. Okay, Possible, she thought, Here's an idea. Wait for him. Here. He'll come back. Surprise him. Tell him you're sorry. Then give him a moodulator-level kiss. Yes! That's it!

She pulled out her key to Ron's room and opened the door.

"Oy …" she groaned as she noticed the visitors. She didn't need long to know how they'd gained entry – the open window explained that.

"Kim Possible. What a pleasant surprise," the party's leader said before commanding his companions, "Monkey ninjas, attack!"

Kim dropped into a fighting stance, ready to take on Monkey Fist's minions. However, she was caught off guard when one of the monkeys pointed a banana at her.

She was even more surprised when a cloud emerged from the tip of the yellow object and enveloped her. The last thing she noticed before succumbing to the potent sleeping gas was that the Junior Prom picture of her and Ron that he usually kept on his desk was no longer there.

TBC …