Disclaimer: Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable belong to Disney. I am using them in this piece in the spirit of creativity.

Ron Stoppable was sitting in his seat comfortably, leaned back against the leather, face tilted up a notch and his lips curled up in an easy smile. Emitting a sigh, he tilted his head to the left and slowly opened his eyes. There she sat- Teen Superhero and role model of millions- Kim Possible, bathed in the pale light of a full moon, the skin of her forearms glistening tantalizingly. Here at this moment, she wasn't the hero everybody idolized; she was simply his love. Ron was moved…perhaps because of the dreaminess of the moment…may be due to the sight he was witnessing. It didn't matter, he decided. It was time to just relax next to the woman he loved and revel in this blissful moment.

He must have fallen asleep as he jerked awake when Kim took a sharp left turn and pushed down on the accelerator hard.

"Slow down, KP! What's the hurry?" Ron asked, confused.

She turned her head to face him and smiled. "I've a planned a little something for you."

His features brightened. "A surprise? I love surprises! Boo-yah!" he squealed.

Kim giggled. "I know."

"So what is it?"

"Now, now Ron. All good things to those who wait. So just lean back and relax. You'll know it when you see it."

"Very well," he said. He took her hand, planting a soft kiss at its back and relaxed, imitating his posture from earlier and gazed out the window at the moon.

Forty five minutes or so later, Kim slowed down the speed of her car-cum-airplane and began to hover over a high rise building. As soon as the LEDs around the helipad changed their color from red to green, she descended the vehicle masterfully, parking it on the middle of the terrace.

Before Ron could voice the numerous questions tumbling in his head, a man opened the doors for them and exclaimed, "Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable! It is truly a delight to have you both here."

"Thank you, Mr. Dean for arranging everything on such a short notice. I don't have words to express my gratitude."

"Nonsense, my dear. It's the least I could do after you foiled the kidnapping attempt on my daughter. I'll forever be in your debt. Never forget that."

He turned to address Ron. "Welcome to Hotel Le Meridian, Mr. Stoppable. I hope the ride was comfortable?" he inquired courteously.

"Um...It was fine. Thank you," Ron supplied, still a bit perplexed by the whole situation.

"Good. Let's go then, shall we?" He gestured toward the stairs at the corner, beckoning the couple to take the lead.

The stairs opened into a broad corridor. The floor was immaculately clean and shiny, so much so that Ron could pinpoint the freckles on his face through the reflection. On the walls hung huge paintings, containing intricate forms and structures which he couldn't decipher for the life of him, meaning they were ridiculously expensive, probably purchased in some auction at Zurich or Frankfurt or Florence. He knew that the top few floors of such seven star hotels were reserved for only the VVIPs, so it all made sense. After all, the aesthetic sensibilities of the snobs are difficult to please but easy to offend.

A staff member met them at the end of the corridor, who took Kim's arm in his own starch-sleeved one with grace and led her away toward one end of the T-section. Mr. Dean ushered Ron the other way, halting in front of an oak door and presented him the key card.

"The dinner hall is on the 52nd floor, Mr. Stoppable. Please be there in an hour. The elevator is down the corridor." Before walking away, he added, "Try not to be late, Sir for it is considered utmost rude if the lady arrives before her man on a date."

A date? Of course! Expensive hotel…artsy-craftsy showcase…courteous staff. It all screams of a place where people would usually go on a date.

Ron opened the door with his key card and was taken aback by the sheer size of the...place; he didn't think the word 'room' fit the description for what he was witnessing.

Damn! Kim really knows how to surprise me.

He walked up to the king-sized bed and saw a jet black tuxedo spread on it. He lifted his right arm, sniffed his armpit and made a yucky face.

Time to hit the shower, dude!

The bathroom was as elegant as the room if not more. The cupboard in one corner housed a variety of shampoos, deodorants, body washes and aftershaves, all with Italian and French labels slapped on their bodies. Smelling the contents of the bottles, he selected a honey citrus shampoo and a Maringa seed shower gel, and carried them with him to the shower stall on the opposite end. After cleaning up, he brushed his teeth and in a moment of utter whimsy, applied some mahagony aftershave on his jaw and the sides of his neck.

He donned the tux carefully, not wanting to defile the precise creases on his trousers and shirt. Looking into the mirror, he admired his physique. The time he'd spent in the gym lately was finally yielding results. His shoulders were broader and his arms were buffy. He inwardly praised the designer who had made the tux accurate to the after-decimal digits, so much so that it enveloped him like a second skin.

He pondered over the troubles Kim must have gone through in order to make this a perfect night for them. He decided to give her a little surprise as well and padded toward the bathroom.

Five minutes later...

Glancing at the digital clock on the bedside table, he retrieved a long stemmed-rose from the vase and exited the room, heading down the corridor toward the elevator.

The doors of the elevator opened on the 52nd floor and a short stroll later, he entered a dimly-lit room with a candlelight setting arranged at the center. No doubt it was the dinner hall but the lack of other tables gave it an eerie resemblance to a tango studio where couples would twist and turn around to the music blaring out of a boombox placed at the center. He sat at the small round table, waiting for his date to arrive.

For a while now, Ron had been wondering if people who used to go out developed some sort of connection between their minds. It was a good theory to explain all the weird things that had been happening between him and Kim. They didn't need to exchange words anymore to know what the other was feeling or thinking. It came naturally to them now, like country folks predicting a shower by looking at the sky. How else would anyone explain what was about to happen?

He felt her enter before he could actually see her and when he did, the sight took his breath away. There stood his date, dressed in a simple serene white off-the-shoulder maxi dress, the silk embellishing her curves sensuously. Of their own free will, his legs stood him up as if acknowledging the presence of an other-worldly deity...a goddess.

With grace only a Kung Fu Master could possess, she walked up to him, red hair tumbling over her shoulders. The soft glow of the candlelight developed an illusion of a halo around her head, and she looked no less than an angel to Ron.

The broad smile gracing her lips suddenly disappeared as her eyes flickered to his head and she gasped. "Oh my God! I can't believe you did your hair!"

His usual unkempt blond locks were slicked back, revealing a perfect hairline. Not a single hair was out of place.

Ron smiled and ran his hand through his hair, superficially of course; he didn't want to dishevel them.

"With all the surprises you decided to shower upon me tonight, it only bodes well that I retorted with one of my own," he replied rather flirtatiously.

"I'm impressed," Kim commented.

"I'm glad. You look um...what's the word I'm looking for?..."

"Beautiful?" she suggested, with her eyebrows shot up.

"No, beautiful doesn't do you justice. You look...divine," he announced, handing her the rose.

Crimson crept to her cheeks, up her neck as she maneuvered a stray lock behind her ear and mumbled a shy 'thank you'.

She accepted the flower and they sat down opposite each other at the table.

"So...what's for dinner? I'm starving!" Ron exclaimed.

As if on cue, a waiter, trundling a food trolley, arrived and started transferring dishes to the table.

"Um...I took the liberty of ordering for the both of us. I hope you don't mind..." Kim uttered, a bit embarrassed.

Ron reached out across the table and took her hand. "Of course I don't."

Alone once again, they started to dig right in. Mushroom cutlet patties, baked samosas, tamarind rasam and agrodolce style chicken wings disappeared in record time. Mouth full of food, they looked at each other and broke into hysterical laughter. They may be a crime fighting duo, they may be high school graduates, they may be soon-to-be adults...but when it came to food and delicious one at that, they behaved like five year olds.

Finally done with the starters and half their tummy full, they stared at each other, emerald pooling into brown. Neither of them noticed the waiter collecting the leftovers and leaving, they were busy swimming in each other's attention.

Kim recalled a line she had read somewhere: Fortunate are the people who venture into love via the road of friendship and wondered how she got so lucky. She and Ron had been best friends for almost a decade and a half. He had been by her side through thick and thin, aggravating the joy of her modest successes and making her smile with his goofy antics whenever she was down. They had been bound by unvoiced vows which was the beginning of the journeys of all married couples. Married couples...marriage...marriage with Ron...the train of thought made her flush, and she quickly averted her eyes, focusing on smoothing her already impeccable dress. That's when realization sunk in and her eyes bulged. Her dress...it resembled a wedding gown, particularly the one which adorned her mother's armoire. Had she deliberately decided upon a dress that resembled her mother's wedding gown? No. Not consciously atleast. But subconsciously perhaps... Did she routinely dream about a simple church wedding for her and Ron? Of course she did! But those were just fantasies conjured up by a-high on the love count-heart and a desire-addled mind, weren't they? Was her inner self sending out some signals to complete a bigger picture?

All this psychological thinking's gonna give me a friggin' migraine!

Ron smiled smugly as if recognising her thought processes and decided to put her out of her misery.

"So..." he drawled, trying to get her attention, "High School over. Man, how quickly the years went by."

"Yeah," she replied, happy for the distraction. "Physics, Chemistry, Geometry, Trigo in addition to insane missions and emotional roller-coasters and (snaps her fingers) we're here."

She knew this was just the moment she was looking for. Mustering every ounce of courage she had, she said, "Ron...um...about the sitch earlier with graduation and everything, I already told you that I'm scared too, right? We may go to different colleges, end up in different career streams, hell, even live miles away from each other. I want to confess that...I'm...um...I'm scared shitless! But know this too- I know for a fact that this thing between us (gestures between them with her hand), this love we share, means more to me than any college, any career, any job." Their gaze held before she completed in a solemn voice, "Now that I know how it feels like to live knowing that you love me, I don't know what I'll do if you're not with me anymore. I don't think, I'll be able to go on with my life. That's how much I love you."

The tension that had been eating her up slowly was finally out and she sighed in relief. A liquid pearl oozed out of her eye, travelling down her cheek and suspending from her chin. Ron collected it before it could drop into oblivion, fisting it so his skin would absorb his love's essence.

He engulfed her small hands in his big ones, and lowered his head a tad to catch her eyes.

"I love you so much more than mere words could ever convey. I just want you to know that you mean more to me than life itself and that it will take take more than a stupid graduation to tear Ron Stoppable away from Kim Possible's side. Do you understand?"

Kim nodded slowly.

"Now as a certain green-skinned good girl-turned evil villainess-turned UN peacekeeper would say, 'Smiley, smiley, Princess!'"

Slowly her face split in a blinding too-bright-to-look-at smile which triggered a counter response from his mouth.

Their lips met in a slow, sensuous kiss, both trying to convey the intensity of their emotions through the tongue-tango they were currently engaging in.

A throat-clearing noise intervened and they reluctantly parted from the cocoon of warmth their now-skillful mouths had created, blushing at the lip smacking echo, the parting elicited.

The waiter gestured toward the maincourse spread across the trolley top and the couple nodded, not trusting their voices.

When the middle-aged waiter departed, Kim declared, "We ought to do something about our PDA. It's getting worse with each passing day."

Eyeing his food with plastic-melting intensity, a nonchalant as ever Ron muttered, "One more thing added to Ron's to-do list and the total comes to seven hundr-Ouaaww! Kim that hurt." His last words were a result of a sharp kick in his shins.

Kim growled at her boyfriend, "You were saying..."

"What I am trying to say is we will sit down as soon as we get time and talk about it as adults, and not brush it under the carpet as an immature Ron might have suggested, if the question would have been posed to him."

Satisfied with his reply, Kim nodded, "Good Boy."

Sweet relief filled his system. Phew.

They were enjoying their veal-rare and slowly cooked, when Ron's gaze traveled to Kim's face. Watching the oscillatory motion of her pouty red lips, time stood frozen. He was spellbound, openly gawking at the beauty in front of him. Everything about her- from her green eyes to her small, adorable nose to her earring studded ears was perfect. She was perfection. His gaze traveled down her long, slender neck to her silk covered torso, her chest inflating and deflating with her breathing. He had noticed that her breasts had gotten bigger since their first kiss and he enjoyed the sensation whenever he unintentionally (read: intentionally) bumped into them. He mused how they would feel against his palms- naked, no clothing barrier hiding them from view or touch.

Oh boy! His pants were getting tighter with each passing second. He felt parched.

He shifted his eyes to the table, clumsily lifting the water glass to his mouth and downing it in three big gulps.

"Ron, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, KP. Why do you ask?"

"Because you just drank from my glass."

His eyes fixed on the almost brimming water glass beside his plate. He chuckled quirkily before saying, "We've been swapping saliva for a year now. Sharing...um...each other's...water seems the next...um...procedural step in the relationship. I read it on the net the other day."

He lowered his head; he won't look at her until he got his hormones under control.

Kim smiled at his goofy reply. She had recognized his gaze minutes earlier but hadn't said anything to deter him. Why would she? She liked Ron's gaze upon her body; whenever his pupils dilated upon seeing her, she reveled in it. She liked that he liked gawking at her face...her neck...her breasts. Her breathing would hitch during such intense moments and the goofball that he was, he didn't see her reactions at all. If he peered closely, he would see his desire reflected back in her lustful eyes. He wanted her and she wanted him. Simple as that! Sometimes, she had half a mind to jump him and make him take her in parking lots, desolated alleys and even in her room when her folks weren't around. But courageous as she might be in life threatening situations, she was a coward when it came to matters of love.

Her eyes flew to Ron. Man, those gelled back blonde hair and those cute freckles were surely doing a number on her. She looked at him holistically and admitted for the thousandth time perhaps that he was the most handsome man she had ever witnessed. Ever since they'd been going out, she only had eyes for him. Her jealousy toward Yori and her wrath directed at Bonnie when she kissed his Ron, proved how possessive she'd become. Those lips were only for her mouth to taste...those cheekbones were hers to peck when desired...that neck was for her to kiss...that broad chest was for her head to rest against...that cute tushy was for her to slap...those hands were for her to serve to.

Just then, Ron lifted his head and caught her gawking at him. The chocolate brown of his irises induced a slick wetness between her thighs. It took her a split second to gather enough courage to make a decision and then command in a soft voice, "Ron, take me to my room."

Reviews are much appreciated, friends.

Oooh...You know what's next...A sexy chapter...