KP = awesome show = amazing characters = not mine = Disney's. 'Kay?

Anwhoo, here's my entry. I'm not really expecting to win or anything, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway.

It still looked the same.

True, it seemed smaller than usual - maybe because the night's shadows hid the building's sprawling structure, or maybe just because she was mentally comparing it to the huge university in Paris she'd just graduated from. But otherwise, the outside of Middleton High looked exactly the same as it always had.

Kim snorted to herself. Well, what did she expect, the building itself to turn gray and grow a paunch? For it to have totally rearranged itself in the five years it had been since she'd last attended?

"Hey, KP! Over here!"

Kim turned to see Ron leaning against the side of the building, one foot propped against the wall like he was keeping it upright. "Beat ya here," he teased playfully.

"Only because you had a earlier flight," she bantered right back. She still was surprised to see him here first, though. After all, the only thing he'd talked about for the past week was the thorough inspection he would have to give Bueno Nacho the instant they reached Middleton.

But here Ron was, grinning at her in the flickering florescent light over the front doors. He'd grown a little, filled out some, since they'd graduated, but he was obviously never going to be real big - and his face would probably always look like it belonged to a third-grader. But that was fine with her. It was just part of what made Ron, Ron.

"That man is so disgustingly young-looking, he's going to put all of us to shame." The words her father had chuckled to her over the phone earlier today popped into her head. Of course, he'd been talking about Drakken and their upcoming high school reunion, but she could so hear people saying that about Ron in - gulp - twenty-five years.

Whatever the case, he looked adorable in a brand-new tux that hadn't belonged to Mr. Stoppable. . . and his sloppily-tied sneakers.

Sneakers?

"Uh, Ron?" Kim pointed down at his feet and raised one eyebrow in question. "About the footwear -"

Ron cut her off with a shrug. "I wasn't sure if this thing was going to be formal or casual. So, I compromised."

"Uh-huh," Rufus chimed in from the tuxedo's front pocket. "Heh-heh, compromise."

"Well, then -" Kim straightened her shoulders and adjusted the collar of her emerald-green dress - "you two ready?"

Rufus poked his head out of the pocket and saluted her with a tiny paw. "Ready!"

"Ready as we'll ever be," Ron added.

Kim gripped the stubborn front door handle and yanked with all her might. It flew open easily, smacking the outside wall and nearly catching Ron right between the eyes in the process.

Huh. They must have fixed that.

The halls still smelled like kid-sweat and tennis-shoe rubber and the overwhelming, flowery perfume of a few girls who had never learned that less was more. The water fountain, Ron quickly discovered, still dribbled more of its contents out of a leaky pipe at the bottom than it relinquished out the spout. Rusty locks still dangled from the lockers, probably just as hard to open now as they had ever been.

But one locker in particular sported a huge bulge in the front, where Ron's self-destructing "spy paper" had gone off and dented it from the inside. So three lockers down was. . .

Hers.

Okay, so it wasn't hers anymore. Technically, it never had been. But it had been on loan to her for four long years, and she'd opened it so many times to be greeted by Wade's friendly face on her computer monitor, Drakken's and Shego's wanted posters, Ron's latest goofy school picture. . .

Kim brushed her fingers lightly over the smooth metal as they passed her old locker. Who did it belong to this year? she wondered. What books lay stacked in place of the computer? Whose picture went up on the door where Ron's had once hung?

"Cake!" Rufus suddenly squealed, jabbing a paw at the gym like a dog pointing at a rabbit.

Ron stopped dead in his tracks and sniffed the air, jolting her back to the present. "Rufus's nose does not lie, Kim," he reported. "There is a cake behind these doors."

"Let's hope the cafeteria lady didn't make it," Kim answered, only half joking. Of course, if she had, Ron and Rufus wouldn't both be charging through the doors with their tongues literally hanging out of their mouths - at least in Rufus's case. Ron, to his credit, was slightly more subdued.

Monique's delighted shriek of "Kim!" was the only thing she heard before her friend's chocolate-colored arms were slung around her, her bracelets jingling.

"Monique!" she cried back, returning the hug. E-mail was great, but it couldn't replace this.

Monique pulled back and grinned at her from one deep red earring to the other. "Girl, I cannot believe how long it's been!" she said joyfully. "You have gotta fill me on. . . everything. Absolutely everything." She winked at Kim as she nudged her with the toe of her sandal. "And we only have a few hours, so talk fast."

Kim glanced over her shoulder at Ron, who was exchanging guy-punches with Felix. Obviously their version of the hug. "Well, I -"

And that was as far as she got before the gym doors flew open with a loud bang! A familiar skinny figure stood in the doorway, hands propped on his hips, eyes down into what he apparently thought were intimidating slits.

"A-ha!" a voice boomed. "Middleton High, I have returned! Quiver in fear! Run and hide and all that good stuff!" The figure threw back his hand and laughed loud and long, a rumbling thing that Kim could almost feel shaking the gym floors.

That laugh could only belong to one formerly-evil mad scientist. She groaned under her breath. Why here? Why now?

Drakken cut his laugh short and glanced eagerly around the room. "So? Did I scare anyone?" he asked hopefully.

Kim glanced with amusement down at Ron's sneakers, currently the only part of him visible from under the refreshment table. "I'm going to go with a definite 'maybe.'"

"What?" Ron poked his head out, a piece of tablecloth hiding his nose. "Did something happen? I was just - lookin' for my contact." He popped an imaginary lens into an eye that Kim knew had practically-perfect vision. She suspected everyone else in the gym knew that, too.

She chuckled affectionately at her boyfriend and turned back to Drakken. "Look, um, this is the five-year reunion. The thirty-year reunion is next weekend."

Drakken blinked at her as if his own contacts were malfunctioning. "Are you sure?"

"Yep."

Half the caterpillar eyebrow went up. "Positive?"

"Positive." Kim traced a X over her chest with her index finger and pressed her lips together in a desperate attempt not to laugh.

". . . Oh." Drakken flashed the room at large a sheepish, toothy grin. "Sorry. Don't mind me. Toodles." Twiddling his fingers in a tiny wave, he turned and skittered back down the hall, lab coat all but tucked between his legs in embarrassment.

Now she let herself laugh.

"Like, who was the geek?"

Kim's laughter died in her throat as she recognized the voice. She spun around to face the one person at Middleton High she hadn't missed a bit.

Bonnie Rockwaller stood not two inches away from her, eyes in their usual narrow dashes. Kim had wondered more than once if the girl was actually physically capable of opening them any farther than that. Her hoop earrings looked wide enough for Rufus to squeeze through and they dangled nearly down to the leather purse she had slung over one shoulder. It was obviously the finest money could buy - Junior's money, that is.

Ron, apparently reading her mind, examined the bag with round eyes. "Junior buy that for you?"

Bonnie's face lit up into what appeared to be a genuine smile. "Yes, he did. Just for this reunion." She flung her brown hair back over the non-pursed shouldered. "Isn't he just the sweetest?"

A-ha. A sign of humanity. Kim latched onto it. "Yeah, Junior's pretty nice," she admitted. You know, for a spoiled brat.

Still, Junior hadn't actually been that bratty ever since he had and his father had given up villainy out of sheer boredom a few years back. Hopefully, that would rub off on Bonnie eventually. Maybe it already had.

"So - who was the geek?" Bonnie repeated.

Or maybe not.

Kim really didn't feel like getting into the whole former-arch-nemesis thing tonight, so she settled for, "Some guy my dad knows from college. His name's. . . Drew." Drakken's real name slid clumsily out between her lips - she still wasn't using to saying it.

"Oh." Bonnie dismissed the subject with another shake of her hair. "So, I imagine you've been doing well for yourself, huh, K? Going to college in Paris while some of us languish at Middleton U. with its, like, five courses offered?"

Kim caught her tongue between her teeth to keep an equally snarky retort from slipping out, instead forcing herself to remember the sight of Loni and Connie Rockwaller prancing around, waving their diplomas from prestigious universities in Upperton and Lowerton, respectively. "Yeah. I took some classes that I thought might come in handy with the whole crime-fighting thing - you know, criminal justice, international diplomacy - "

"And you?" Bonnie interrupted, raising an eyebrow at Ron.

Ron puffed out his chest proudly. "Culinary school in Par-ee. Not to mention assistant manager at their Bueno Nacho."

Bonnie smirked. Of course, five years ago she probably would have said something like, Boy, Stoppable, you're sure going far in the world, so maybe she really was trying after all.

Besides, she was proud of Ron. Once he'd decided on culinary school, he'd gone on the Internet and searched for the very best place to learn at. No slacking here.

And being in the same town was a definite plus, too. Not that the supervillains had been as much trouble ever since they realized how much Mystical Monkey Power Ron could channel if he chose to, though he saved it for when the situation was a few notches past desperate. Sweet guy that he was, he didn't want to hurt anyone.

But there would always be a few troublemakers. One supervillain whose delusions of grandeur far outweighed his sense of direction had been stopped trying to break into the Eiffel Tower because he was absolutely certain that the Crown Jewels were hidden inside. Even when he was being dragged away in handcuffs, he still wouldn't believe that he'd gotten it mixed up with the Tower of London.

"So," Monique came up behind them and rested a smooth, red-nailed hand on Kim's arm, "now that college is over, do you two think you're be staying in Paris?" She waggled her eyebrows mischievously. "The City of Love and all that."

Ron blushed furiously.

Double gulp. That was the very thing she'd been wrestling with for the past month. "I don't know," she answered honestly. "I mean, Paris is great and all, but -"

"But what?" Bonnie shrieked. "A choice between Paris and Middleton? Come o-on, Possible! So obvious!"

Monique nodded. "I don't often agree with Bonnie here, but Paris is the best. I mean, if I could get into their fashion academies - "

" - which you will," Kim reassured her. "Soon."

"Thanks." Monique grinned at her. "But, if I had a chance to live in Paris, I wouldn't pass it up for anything. Even fashion designing in New York can't compare."

She knew all that. Really, what did Middleton have to offer compared to Paris? Besides her family - and her friends - and everything she'd grown up with -

And the fact that Middleton was what came to mind whenever she thought of home.

"Speaking of love," Felix chimed in, "you guys getting hitched anytime soon?"

Ron blushed even more furiously, and Kim felt the red rise to her face, too. "Well - gee - I dunno - " she stammered. Come on, tongue. Work. You didn't have any trouble the rest of the evening.

Ron was currently speaking Swahili or something, so she forced herself to spit out, "We were going to wait until we finished college to really talk about that."

"Sounds reasonable," Monique said. Kim had never loved her more than she did at that moment.

"Not everyone waits that long, though," Felix added. He nodded toward Tara - Tara Mankey, who was currently half-skipping toward them with her wavy blonde hair bouncing around her shoulders, as bubbly as everything else about her.

At least she still looked basically the same. Some of the other girls had gotten their noses pierced since senior year, and Liz Madison was currently sporting a bellybutton ring - not a bad look, necessarily, but definitely not for Kim. And it sure wouldn't look right on Tara, either.

"Kim!" Tara squealed happily. "Is that really you?"

"In the flesh." She squinted at Tara. "And is that really you, all grown-up and married?"

Tara giggled. "It is!" She literally began to bounce on the heels on her high-heeled shoes, eyes sparkling.

"And - "

"So far, so good," a deep voice said behind Kim. She spun around to see Josh looking down at her. The blond patch of hair on top of his hair seemed darker than she remembered, but other than that he looked like the same old Josh.

He stuck out his hand to her and grinned the grin that used to flip her stomach inside-out. Now, the only thing that tugged at her was a vague sense of nostalgia. "Hey, Kim."

"Hey, Josh." She shook his hand and shot Ron an It's-okay look over her shoulder. "How's art school?"

"Oh, it's amazing." Josh pulled his hands back and stuck them in his pockets. "How's crime-fighting school?"

She couldn't help but smile. "Great."

"And how's that baby sister of yours, Ron?"

Kim breathed a sigh of relief. There was nothing Ron liked more than gushing about Hana, and he would absolutely relish the chance to show off her pictures to someone new.

Sure enough, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and flipped it open to reveal no less than twenty-five photos. "Han totally rocks. I mean, look at her! Here she is on her first day of preschool - spelling her name with the blocks - reading a book - lifting her teacher - " Ron shook his head and rolled his eyes. "See, now, there she's just showin' off."

Josh's mouth dropped into a little O, and Kim just smiled. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered if another kid's picture would ever replace Hana's - maybe one with messy blond hair and soft green eyes -

That thought was cut off abruptly when both gym doors slammed open, knocking down a stack of chairs someone had leaned against them. Oh, great, Kim thought. Drakken again?

No. The figure looming in front of them was much taller - and broader - with short brown hair, the gray streaks probably a direct result of five days a week with the Tweebs.

"Oh, no," Ron squeaked.

"Uh-uh," Rufus added in the same tone.

"Listen up, people!" Mr. Barkin bellowed. "It has come to my attention that, until this moment, you children were unchaperoned! That goes against this school's policy, and is being corrected as we speak!"

A strange feeling swirled in Kim's stomach. It wasn't like they were were little kids in need of baby-sitters anymore. It wasn't even like they were rowdy high school students who were going to graffiti the lunchroom, either.

But, on the other hand, there was something familiar, almost comforting, about it. Being supervised by her old high-school teacher for the rest of her life would have been horrible, but she was pretty sure she could manage it for one night.

Ron, on the other hand, was beginning to look a little green around the freckles. Of course, that could have been the result of the three pieces of cake he'd downed while she was talking to Josh and Tara.

"And no one will leave this gymnasium without an escort, except to partake of the facilities!" Mr. Barkin continued. (He did not just say that, Kim thought.) "This means you, Stoppable!"

"Me?" She could have sworn she saw Ron bat his eyelashes at Barkin. "What'd I do?"

"Chemistry Lab 225, April 30, 2006," Mr. Barkin recited without a moment's pause. "You can still see the scorch marks."

Ron shrugged and chuckled. "They say the mark of a true scientific genius is how many times he burns down the chem lab."

Kim buried her face in her hands. She wasn't entirely sure, but she had a feeling that particular piece of wisdom had been given to him by Drakken.

The high-school-for-a-night-experience lasted right up until she glanced at her wrist Kimmunicator and saw that the watch's tiny, glowing numbers read 11:45.

Eleven-forty-five? It seemed like only two minutes ago she'd been walking into the gym and marveling at the fact that she had actually missed the smell of overheated sneakers. For a minute, Kim almost felt like Cinderella - well, how Cinderella would have felt if Prince Charming had icing on his nose and a naked mole rat sticking out of his pocket like some kind of mini-Cuddle Buddy.

"Ohmigosh," she gasped out loud.

Everyone in the room turned to her with their eyebrows up, even Mr. Barkin. Especially Mr. Barkin.

"Sorry, guys, but I need to go. I mean, if I'm not home by midnight, my dad will freak," Kim explained.

Bonnie twisted up her glossy mouth. "You still have a curfew, Possible?" Her voice was halfway between snarky and playful, but she pronounced the word "curfew" as if it were a fatal disease.

"No, Rockwaller," she replied, letting her own voice come out in measured little doses. "I'll just be in for a cross-examination if I stay out too late." She didn't feel like adding to her old rival that she didn't particularly mind. She hadn't seen her father for nearly six months, after all; a little overprotection was fine after how much she'd missed him.

"I guess that makes sense." Shrugging, Bonnie rummaged around her purse. "What's your e-mail address, anyway?"

For an instant, Kim froze, her heels stuck to the gym's slick floor. Give Bonnie her address? So she could send her hate mail from anywhere on the globe?

Then again, the girl had seemed to mellow slightly with age. Maybe it would be easier to be nice to her from across cyberspace, where her comments could be deleted if they got too nasty.

So when Bonnie thrust a sheet of stationary at her (with "Luv from Bonnie" written at the top), she only hesitated for a minute before she wrote her e-mail address down and handed it back to her. "Here you go," she said in the most polite voice she could muster.

If all else fails, I can always use a different one, Kim thought, waiting for her to shove the paper roughly to the bottom of her purse, where it would gather dust with empty lipstick tubes and sticks of sugarless gum. To her surprise, though, Bonnie, folded it carefully and tucked it into her pocket like it was some kind of priceless treasure.

Ron cleared his throat, a sound that went up and down the vocal spectrum like he was still fifteen. "Can I walk you to your car, KP?"

Her heart melted slightly around the edges. Good ol' Ron.

"Of course you may," Kim replied, placing her hand in his and giving it a soft squeeze.

Mr. Barkin made a noise like he was trying to cough a hairball.

"If that's all right with you, sir," she added respectfully.

Barkin sighed as if it pained him to give her permission, but he nodded. "Just don't be gone longer than five minutes, or I'll call security," he snapped.

Security? She peered at him for a minute to try and figure out if he was serious, but finally gave up. You could never tell with Mr. Barkin.

"So, who's security?" Ron asked in his stage-whisper as they left the gym. "Cafeteria lady?"

"Don't laugh," she scolded him, shaking her finger. "Her dinner rolls could double as bullets."

The last thing she heard before the gym doors slapped shut behind them was Tara squealing, "Bye, Kim!" The last thing she saw was Monique holding her fingers to her ear in the shape of a phone and mouthing, "Call me."

Mr. Barkin must have turned out the lights when he came in, because the hallway was dark except for the moonlight spilling in through the windows, bathing everything in silvery-white. In that kind of light, even her old high school looked somehow frightening and beautiful at the same time. Exotic, in a way.

The air was abruptly broken when Ron took one step forward and smashed nose-first into something. "Found the front doors," he snuffled against the wood. "And I think I may have also dislocated something."

She couldn't resist a chuckle as she fumbled for the door and gave it a firm push. With a deep, heavy sigh, it swung open, and the bright lights framing the "Middleton High" sign ("Class reunions this month," it read. "Have you hugged a former classmate today?") dazzled her. Once her eyes had adjusted, she found Ron's sleeve and helped him out onto the sidewalk.

"So, Kim -" Ron shoved his hands into his pockets and looked down at her, his brown eyes bright in the night - "when you saw Josh and Tara today -"

Her heart thudded nearly to a halt. For a brief, crazy, instant, she thought he was going to propose right here on the front lawn of Middleton High, which, even with the grass sparkling with dew in the moonlight, was not a very romantic place. "Yes, Ron?" she prompted.

Ron didn't continue, just gave her a look that she recognized, one that he'd given her about twenty-five times a day when they'd first started dating. It was an expression that clearly read, Are you REALLY my girlfriend? 'Cuz it's just all too good to be true.

"Josh is a nice guy," she answered his face. "I'm happy for Tara. But I'm not sad for me, because I have you. And, Ron Stoppable, you are the only guy for me."

Ron's lips spread into that grin of pure sloppy joy that she loved so much. "Boo-yah," he whispered huskily.

"Huh!" Rufus popped out of Ron's pocket, grabbed the bow tie around his neck, and tugged him forward until he was standing less than a foot away from her. The mole rat puckered his lips and kissed the back of his little paw, fluttering his eyelashes.

Ron shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, if Rufus insists -"

"Wouldn't want to disappoint Rufus," she agreed, leaning in toward him.

Okay, so Paris was still the City of Love. But kissing Ron was wonderful anywhere. Even on the front lawn of Middleton High.

Note: I believe this proves I am incapable of writing a story without Drakken in it. XD