Kim Possible and all related characters and indicia are owned by the Disney Corporation. This work of fan fiction is written for pleasure, not profit.
Ron leaned into the turn as he guided his scooter onto Kim's street. He saw her house in the distance, and part of him wanted to zoom right past it, just keep going forever. Forever with Kim. Kim. She clung to him, arms cinched tight around his waist, her body pressed against his back, her chin resting on his shoulder.
His watch alarm had startled them when it went off. 'Startled,' he grinned. 'I about jumped out of my skin.' Which was no lie. There he had been, sitting in The Chair, kissing Kim, when: Beep! Beep! Beep! After the initial shock they had both burst out laughing. Ron remembered looking at his watch as he shut off the alarm.
"Eleven thirty," he'd said. "Guess I'd better get you home." She had looked so sad. It wasn't the puppy dog pout, not quite, but it was a pout just the same. "Just one more kiss?" she'd asked, looking up at him with a mournful expression. He'd been tempted. Oh yes. Very much so. But self preservation won out.
"Ah, K.P., I'd rather not bring you home late on our very first official date." Visions of rockets and deep space probes had flitted through his mind. He was sure Mr. Dr. Possible had been kidding. After all, what father didn't exaggerate a trifle where his only daughter was concerned? Yes, definitely kidding. Maybe. But why risk it?
Ron parked the scooter and dismounted, then helped Kim off. "'Night Ron," she said, and started for the house. She seemed surprised when he put his hand on her arm and joined her on her journey up the walk to her front door.
"What's this?" she asked, though she sounded pleased.
"My Dad always says that a gentleman walks a lady to her door," Ron said, his voice catching a bit.
"I always knew you were a proper gentleman," Kim said lightly. They were stepping onto the porch when she added, in a sultry voice, "What does your dad say a gentleman does when he gets his lady to her door?" She turned to face him, and laid her hands on the sides of his ribcage. He smiled as her fingers flexed gently, and her hands drifted down to his waist. She moved a bit closer, then paused.
Ron knew where this was going. He chuckled, put his own hands on Kim's hips, and drew her the rest of the way in. His heart raced. The memory of that first time, in the hall, when she was under the Moodulator's influence, boiled away. This was Kim, acting entirely of her own free will, coming to him. Willingly. Eagerly. His breath caught in his throat as she pressed herself against him, but he managed to gasp, "He says 'A gentleman kisses his lady good night'."
"That's good advice," Kim whispered softly, her lips parting slightly, her eyes half closed. Ron's head bent forward.
'He's such a good kisser,' Kim thought, as she and Ron stood under the porch light, exchanging tender kisses. Ron had said 'Good night' six or seven times, but kept coming back, at her urging, for 'just one more' kiss. 'It must be almost midnight,' she thought regretfully. She was about to break off the kissing and say something about it when she heard the door knob rattle as it began to turn slowly. Ron tensed up slightly. He'd heard it too, apparently. She opened her eyes part way and looked at him. He was looking back at her. 'Tweebs', she mouthed silently, her lips never leaving his. Ron's eyes flicked toward the door, then back. They sparkled mischievously, and she felt him grin. Then his mouth opened. Kim suppressed an urge to giggle, and responded in kind. Their tongues touched, probed, delicately, gently. Kim didn't think much of French kissing, to be perfectly honest, and still wasn't sure she liked it. True, she'd only tried it a couple of times, and in each case the boy she'd been with had tried to stick his tongue down her throat at the word go. The way Ron did it, she might learn to like, but this wasn't about passion. This was for what was going to happen when the front door flew open, as it was going to do...right about...now!
"Aaaiiieeeggghhh!" The scream was equal parts dismay, horror and disgust. Jim and Tim fled shrieking.
"I'd say the first part of the 'Welcome home Kim' exercise went rather well. Don't you?" Ron asked, grinning.
"I couldn't ask for better," Kim smiled. "Now for the second part." She planted her lips on Ron's again.
Her parents came to see what all the fuss was about, naturally. The tweebs had left the door open. Kim heard her parents approach. Silence. Lingering silence. She cracked one eye and looked. Her mother was smiling dreamily, an expression of pure joy on her face. No surprise there. Her dad looked a little sad, in a wistful sort of way, but he was smiling too. Kim decided to ignore them, and returned her attention to important matters. Namely, Ron.
"Ahem." Her father cleared his throat. Kim ignored it. Ron quite possibly hadn't heard it, preoccupied as he was.
"AHEM!" Ok, can't pretend we didn't hear that. She opened her eyes and looked at her parents. Ron did the same. Her mom was still smiling. Her dad was frowning and looking at his watch.
"Perhaps I failed to make myself clear Ronald," he said sternly. "When I said have Kim home by midnight, I meant 'in the house by midnight'. Understood?"
Ron grinned weakly. "Loud and clear, Mr. Dr. Possible."
"Now tell Ron good night Kim. "
Kim gave Ron a regretful smile. "Good night Ron."
"G'night, K. P." One last, quick kiss, then the door was shut. Kim sagged against it.
"I take it the date went well," her father stated.
Kim just smiled at him. "You can quit pretending to be upset, Daddy," she reproached him gently. "I saw how you were smiling when you thought I wasn't looking."
Her father turned pink, but laughed. "You win, Kimmy." He reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Ron's a fine man. I can't think of a better choice."
Kim threw her arms around him. "I can't either," she confessed.
"Now off to bed with you," he commanded, his voice stern again.
"Yes, Daddy," she obeyed. "Good night, Mom." She ran upstairs, to dream of Ron, and count the seconds until it was morning and she could see him again.