Summary: Kim has to deal with the consequences of her actions, and the chain of events that follow.

Author's Note: It had been a while since I'd checked the updates on so I was out of the loop in terms of abbreviations. To be specific, late one night when I started reading some of the new postings and found several references to "STD"... Well, frankly, "So the Drama" was not what I thought of... Talk about a brain freezing moment... This story was born from my moment of stunned disbelief. Points of information:

Note 1 : The first section is somewhat unusual, but it picks up later on. Please keep reading beyond that point.

Note 2 : What happened to Ron prior to his appearance will be explored later in the story - it's not done for no reason or for simple shock value, and eventually all will be made clear (hopefully).

Note 3 : Despite a similarity of name, appearance, and role, a character from the movie "So the Drama" is not the same person (or semblance of one) that is found in this work. Also, I am indeed deliberately making him as unlikable as possible so as to limit the dimensions of a potentially fraught situation.

Note 4 : I am leaving the precise "consequence" Kim has to deal with unspecified for a number of reasons. Please don't assume that I'm referring to a specific one and think the plot must go a certain way as a result (in other words, she's not dying - this is based on a Disney series (which I don't own, and make no money from), after all). In a sense, for the purposes of this story, it's irrelevant precisely which one it actually is.

Meditate on this quote from the "Buffy: the Vampire Slayer" TV episode "Reptile Boy" :

Buffy: I told one lie. I had one drink.
Giles: Yes, and you were very nearly devoured by a giant demon snake. The words, "let that be a lesson" are a tad redundant at this juncture.

Middleton High is a small school. Not small in the sense of number of rooms, student to teacher ratios, or even the overall number of students enrolled in the school - Middleton is, after all, a fairly large community, even if it doesn't have the population of Lowerton, or the population density of Upperton; indeed, the student body consisted of precisely 999 students. No, Middleton High is small in terms of footprint - meaning the square footage of ground covered by the buildings that comprise the school. Between a compact design involving small wings growing from the central administrative hub, and a multi-floor design, Middleton High is a marvel of compact efficiency in education - despite the odd hallways, which in aerial views more closely resembled elements of a space station than a conventional building (which, given the presence of the Space Center in Middleton, almost makes a bizarre kind of sense).

The only exception to this simple truth is the connecting corridor to the Cafeteria - Gymnasium, which is far longer than any other - even unnecessarily so. The length of this corridor serves no known functional or aesthetic purpose; it simply is.

The Greater Tri-City School District, encompassing as it did Middleton's compact design, Upperton's sprawling expanse, and Lowerton's grand single-story halls, made policy for all three high schools. As a consequence, policies and rules were designed with all the schools within its purview in mind, but which were precisely tailored for none. In some respects, this benefited Middleton High, in others it did not, yet in the modern era of consolidation and shared oversight this too is simply the way things are - particularly in a litigious society.

It is doubtful any of the students who attend Middleton High (not even the student council members, those entrusted with the magnificent burden of leadership) ever stopped to consider these facts, but without doubt they certainly knew of and enjoyed at least one of the factors that worked towards Middleton High's favor: the time between classes. Thanks to Middleton's small footprint, the time allotted by the school board to travel from one class period to the next was very, very generous. So generous in fact, that it was possible for a student to visit his or her locker between almost every class, pause in the halls to chat with friends, take a scenic route, or simply stroll leisurely on the way to the next period without being tardy - with the possible exception of going to and from lunch or physical education (thanks to the aforementioned unusual design feature). The same span of time that Lowerton's students cursed - when they dared - as they hurried through the halls while lugging the majority of their books from class to class, enabled Middleton's student body to socialize and otherwise decompress between educational periods.

As a consequence of this, much to Steve Barkin's dismay, any time the bell rang releasing a flood of students from one class period, the halls (especially those where the students' lockers were located) quickly became a congested (relatively, anyway - even at their worst, the halls still remained passable) tangle of only peripherally interacting knots of students, casually strolling teens, and others engaged in talking on cell phones, loitering, or simply "hanging out." Some days, the air of insouciance they emitted was so lackluster the vein in Mr. Barkin's temple could be seen to visibly throb.

Today is a normal day; one much like any other - or as normal as a day can get at a school attended by Kim Possible (a teenager who routinely saves the world) - and more importantly, a day where the school year was winding down to the start of summer vacation. The sun was shining, third period had just been dismissed, and it was a beautiful day.

The only hitch to be found in an otherwise textbook perfect day was the low rumbling roar that came from outside the school, gradually increasing in volume - and even that sound was only audible in one wing of the building. As the students' chatted and laughed in the halls, even those who had noticed the sound ignored it - and eventually even this minor discordant note went away, leaving the usual pleasant mundanity behind.

Through the doors at the end of the science wing, and into the seething and swirling mass of students killing time in the generous, school board mandated break between periods, entered Ron Stoppable. The fact that Ron was just entering the school before fourth period was relatively normal, what with his mediocre (at best) academic inclination and his role as a sidekick (and-or) partner to Kim Possible. All this was normal; the wall of silence that followed - and to a lesser extent, preceded - his slow progress down the hall was not.

As any parent will tell you, most teens know themselves to be invincible, invulnerable, and immortal - at least in their own mind. Any other possibility simply didn't enter their thoughts unless the real world forcibly intruded into the carefully delimited sphere of their existence. Shielded from much of the harsh reality of the world by a general consensus of the majority of the population, and protected from the bulk of the dangers and worries that they would eventually face as they aged, the students' world was a microcosm that was largely self-contained, and especially in a town like Middleton with dedicated and conscientious teachers, parents, and police... safe. Danger (in the forms that it actually existed within the students' microcosm) was limited to getting caught misbehaving (be it by those same parents, teachers, or for a select few, the police), facing social or peer rejection, or at the extreme worst, running afoul of the D-Hall thugs or jocks as they showed off their carefully sculpted muscles.

In Japan, Ron Stoppable had encountered an expression, "The nail that stands up gets pounded down." He didn't recognize the significance of the expression or grasp the societal implications, but he certainly lived it. Ron stood out, and he was frequently pounded down.

Kim Possible, who frequently saved the world (not to mention Ron), on the other hand, also stood out, but differently. Although she stood out, she was also a cute girl and a cheerleader (as well as the captain of the squad), wore fashionable clothes, had dated the captain of the football team and some of the cream of the male social crop. She may have stood out, but she fit in well enough, and was popular enough, that even though she wasn't precisely "normal" by Middleton standards, she was close enough to be acceptable - even Bonnie was grudgingly accepting of Kim's general position in the overall scheme of the pecking order - so long as it was beneath her, that is.

Kim fit in; Ron did not. Kim had fame; Ron had infamy.

The microcosm of the high school experience (outside the boundaries of the mandated and necessary educational process) largely existed as a social contract between the students, and this was maintained with brutal efficiency and a callous disregard for the personal feelings, emotions, and spirits of those being crushed underfoot. The cream of the social set (the membership varied in this apex group, and shifted and reconfigured itself over time, but the strata itself always remained) ruled with an iron will unseen in the larger world outside of the Axis of Evil. The intangibles that encompassed this unspoken contract formed "The Rules," as Ron thought of them, and whether they were couched in terms of planets, Queen Bee's, variously colored animals, group theory or social dynamics, Ron was always outside the normal.

His position wasn't by choice, nor was his outsider status deliberate; despite his motto of "never be normal," Ron was as firm a believer in "The Rules" as Bonnie Rockwaller, albeit from a different perspective. From the importance and cultural underpinnings of sharing in kindergarten, to the dating food chain, Ron knew all The Rules - and especially how he did and didn't fit within them, and should he ever lose sight of one, he knew that there were always plenty of volunteers to educate him at length about his shortcomings.

Despite his outsider status, at times Ron craved the simple acceptance and even adulation that conforming to the Rules could generate, but whether it was by throwing Naco money around to buy entry into the superior social status, the desire to be (and for a brief time, becoming) a famous journalist, the sudden ability to speak absolute truth, getting a world-class haircut (the secret was in the sea urchin), saving the day when confronted by a menacing mutant, cooking the finest cuisine, or becoming an overnight sensation as a genius wünderkind, something inevitably went wrong with his attempts at achieving popularity (and by extension, conformity) through some outstanding trait. His core "Ron-ness" would emerge, and he would be forcibly ejected from whatever social niche he'd managed to rise to.

And that, possibly more than anything, contributed to Ron's inability to enter the boundaries of the conventional social norms permanently - even while riding on Kim Possible's coattails. His dramatic and frequent rise and fall illustrated how precarious and haphazard the web of The Rules truly was. Given a choice between rejecting an outsider or confronting the impermanence and flimsiness of the structure that constituted almost the entire world of their social lives... the choice for most was very clear.

Which is not to say Ron was completely isolated; even in a protected microcosm like the school, there were some who for one reason or another - such as having a job (as in Zita's case), and thus being less insulated from the realities of the wider world, or by virtue of being sufficiently out of the mainstream as to be outside the normal scope of the rules (as was Felix, or had he attended Middleton High, Kim's cousin Larry), or being a friend of a friend (as was Monique) - knew enough of the way things really worked to recognize the inherent limitations in The Rules, or at the very least, to not be entirely controlled by them.

Ron's laissez-faire attitude and laid-back nature covered a set of abilities, attitudes, and behaviors that in a more socially adept or conventional person - and a little bit of work - could have made him welcome in any or all of the layers of the social hierarchy - a rare blessing. In Ron, they combined to make him just different enough from each of them to be all but unwelcome in any tier, while his ability to seemingly move into any of the normal strata - for however limited a time until he was inevitably ejected again - only made most of the people in those tiers all the more leery of associating with him because of the inevitable expulsion.

More, not even the most hardened and cynical government bureaucrat understood the drive to "C.Y.A." like the average teen in a group of his or her peers. Breaching the implicit social contract - unless you were rich enough, popular enough, or good- looking enough to transcend the normal rules - was a sure route to shunning and rejection.

In sum, being outside of the Rules (or beneath them, depending on one's perspective) made Ron a froob to most. Someone to be ignored, mocked, ridiculed, beat down, pushed aside, or victimized, depending on the temperament of the other party involved - mostly it was simply being ignored, since if you took too much notice of the person outside the Rules, you might come to be associated with such a pariah... a fate worse than death to many. Consequently, the normal reaction to Ron walking down the hall was a non-reaction. In normal circumstances, he was largely beneath notice by nearly universal, and totally unspoken, agreement.

It had started as a normal day. It was also dipping into the realm of abnormality as Ron's entrance made the other students take notice. By happenstance, none of the friendly acquaintances that Ron maintained were in the hallway he entered - people who might have reacted differently to his sudden appearance than the general population.

The students who were there didn't think about how much time there was before the next class, or why they were so generously supplied. They didn't think about their place in the pecking order, why the order existed, or what it meant, or even why Ron was such a froob. Nor did they think about socio- economic politics, the food chain, or what such a pink sloth was doing in a school like Middleton and hanging out with a cheerleader...

Instead, they noted his presence, and suddenly decided they absolutely needed to be in class - or, to be absolutely truthful, anywhere other than near him. In a rare moment of unanimity, every single student he passed fell silent, and abandoned the usual routine to flee for the sanctuary of a classroom. Classes were usually a necessary evil used as the framework to maintain the basic social structure of high school, and usually every (however generous they might be) instant between bells was treasured and stretched to put off the next hour of instruction. A combination of the CYA mindset, deliberate ignorance, fear, and an unwillingness to confront what Ron's appearance represented combined to make him transcend his usual non-abnormal (that is, not in one of his brief stints of popularity, nor in the period immediately following said time while in the crash and burn phase of such) minimal social status (well below even the captain of the chess team) and temporarily become a nonperson.

The students weren't evil; nor were they necessarily immature. After all, avoidance is a very common coping mechanism even among adults.

But given the wall of silence and the flight from his presence that followed in Ron's wake, and given that Ron was not experiencing one of his usual, short-term status boosts, or the short-term status deficits in his base, lowly state that resulted after one fell apart, what was the reason for the behavior? However normal that reaction might be?

It was the blood, mainly.

Author's note: Sorry about the long build up. Six pages of pop psychology and social analysis for a one line kicker... and people wonder why my story output isn't quicker. It's more of a conventional story from here on out, so hopefully you're still reading this.