The happy ending did not happen. Kim and Ron are married with children--but not to each other. And their married lives are not happy. They are reduced to meeting each other in hotel rooms.

And will they ever know the happiness--the glory--of the love that might have been?

My dear readers. I promised you chpt. 6 of Say Something, Ron about a month ago. My readers have been asking for updates on my most popular fic's, Say Something, Ron, The Lion, The Witch, And The Naked Mole Rat, and The Seven Kisses Of Kim Possible.

Some things have happened. A little thing like losing my USB data storage device that had all my K.P. fic's on it. It will take a while to reconstruct my ongoing stories.

And a bigger thing happened, like being diagnosed with prostate cancer. The cancer was low grade. I had my prostate gland removed surgically. They got it all. Praise the Lord. And I have a new appreciation of cancer survivors and hospital patients. God Bless them all. They are heroes.

Anyhow, I found my mind going in different directions. This story came out while I was home recuperating.

This is the first (and probably the last) story I will write with such explicitly erotic content. What inspired it? I'm not sure. My man mattb3671is a writer of smuff (smutty fluff). My men and brothers in Christ Captainkodak 1 and Mrdrp have given it a try. And I thought, so would I--at least once.

And in the middle of it all, I decided to stir in some tragedy, death, and hopefully, love and redemption. Let me know what you think.

Kim, Ron, Mr. and Mrs.Dr.P., Bonnie Rockwaller, Brick Flagg, Josh Mankey, Middleton, the names of Jon Stoppable, Mim Possible, Wade Load, Felix Renton, and Tara are the property of Disney and the show. The characters of Jonathan Mankey, Francis Belinda Flagg, Kimberly Miranda Stoppable, Miriam Jeannette Stoppable, and the corporate entity of the Load-Renton Foundation found their inspiration in my convoluted brain.

A TIME FOR TENDERNESS

Ron entered the door and switched on the light.

Kim stood facing away from Ron, wearing a trenchcoat, her red hair in a ponytail scrunchie.

"I'm here," he said quietly.

"I knew you would come," she said quietly. "I've been waiting--hoping--you would come."

"I know," he said.

"It seemed like it took so long--I started to be afraid," she said with a sob in her voice.

"So not," he said reassuringly. "I'd have to be dead not to come to you."

"Thank you," she said. "I know you won't abandon me. It's just--."

"Shhh," he said. "I'm here. You're here."

With one hand she took the scrunchie out of hr hair. With both hands she spread her hair over shoulders. It was a marvelous red waterfall.

He walked to her, put his hands on her shoulders, and slipped the trenchcoat off. It fell to the floor. She was wearing the mission suit--the old, not the new--with the crop top and cargo pants.

He slipped his arms around her waist. She sighed and leaned her head back on him. Her head touched his cheek.

"Your hair is so soft," he said. "It smells like strawberry."

"I washed it in that scented shampoo you like," she said.

He ran his hands up. Over her crop top to her shoulders. The breasts that felt so--pillow-y? What kind of word was that? Well, he had pillowed his head on them many nights. The slender shoulders. He took his arms from around her and massaged her neck and shoulders.

"Unhhh," she sighed, "that feels so good."

He slid his arms under hers and up under her crop top. He caressed her breasts. He slid the fingers of one hand down her cleavage.

She moaned quietly.

He slid his hands down her midriff and stopped at her hips.

She put her hands on his and laced her fingers in his. "You can do with me whatever you want," she whispered.

He slid his hands along her waist, and she whimpered

He slid a hand under the waistband of her pants and caressed her belly. Her breath became ragged.

"That feels good--but you know what," she said wryly, "Your hand would have more room if my pants weren't in the way."

"I was getting to that," he told her with a hint of laughter. He tapped her belt buckle. It popped loose and her pants dropped like a stone.

"You haven't lost your touch," said Kim.

"I've had lots of opportunity to see how quick my own fall off," said Ron. He looked down. "Red satin bikini panties. I like it."

"Thank you."

He slid his hands down the hourglass figure of her hips to her panty waistband. And with one arm he held her waist while with the other hand he gently stroked her belly in circles around her navel.

She folded her arms over his arm that held her waist. She sighed and leaned back even more against him. "Oh, Ron--that feels so good."

He made smaller circles around her navel.

"Ron," she asked, "Not to sound suspicious, but what are you going to do?"

"Oh," he said frivolously, "This." He made a final circle with his hand and with his forefinger tickled her in the navel.

"Eeeek!" Kim squealed. She grabbed both his wrists. "Ron! Please don't do that! You know how ticklish I am there--at least when you do it!" Her voice became sad. "It's not like Josh is around--to touch me."

Contritely, Ron turned her around and gathered her into his arms--a gentle nurturing embrace. "K.P.--I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do anything that would bring up painful memories."

Her voice was muffled as she nestled her head in the hollow of his shoulder. "That's okay...I'm sorry too. Really, I like it when we mess around. It's just--sometimes the old memories intrude, whether I want them to or not."

With one hand, Ron stroked her hair for a few moments. "Well--should we just--y'know--act like--um, friends?"

Kim raised her head and looked into his eyes with a sassy gleam. "That's one reason why I will always love you. You are always a gentleman, even when you're about to ravish me."

Ron's eyebrows rose. "You mean you still want--?"

Kim continued. "--Our Game? Of course, silly. And don't let me trip. My pants are still around my ankles."

"If you fall, I will cushion you, my dear," he assured her. He gently turned her again so he was behind her.

She became limp and leaned against him, her head on his shoulder. His hands slid down her arms and grasped her wrists. And with one hand, he gently pinned both her wrists behind her, while encircling her waist with the other arm.

"Sir," she whispered, "What are you doing? Are you abducting me?"

It was part of Their Game, as they called it. "Yes, my little captive." He encircled her waist with both arms and pinned her arms behind her.

"Are you going to treat me honorably?"

"No, my little captive."

"I can't believe you caught me. I'm helpless. Please don't hurt me."

He slid both his hands down her hips, sliding her satiny bikini panties down still lower than they were, baring her belly even more. He cupped both hands on her belly, just below her navel. Her panties were so low that he could not feel any fabric, even with his hands that low on her abdomen. She laid her head back again on his shoulder. The silken texture of her hair on his neck--the feel of her bare tummy under his hands--the whispered pleading sound of her voice--it all practically drove him mad with desire.

Ron sometimes asked himself--was this a sick behavior? This whole imaginary captive thing? He went over it again and again in his head. And he decided. It was Kim. This was between Kim and him, alone. He had read up on the subject of bondage. Some of it sickened him. So he further decided. He would never use rope, or leather, or ball gags, or such perverse degraded things, as he thought of them. His own arms--their words spoken in mutually understood jest--her willing submission to his gentle embrace, his submission to her wishes--these were enough. Kim would guide him. She could trust him, and he would trust her.

He tightened his grip around her waist, and lifted her up a few inches, so her feet dangled.

She gasped, and pretended to struggle weakly in his embrace. "Please. Let me go. You don't understand. I'm a virgin. I belong to my family. If you take me to your bed, they won't take me back. I'll have to be your slave girl."

Kim had read up herself on the ancient customs of family honor in many societies. She had devised all her dialogue herself, and it was calculated to arouse Ron--which it did. And she could trust Ron to understand exactly what she meant.

She tossed her head, and her hair cascaded. She squirmed in his embrace. The feel of his arms around her, his hands on her bare skin--she could hardly wait.

He buried his face in the flippy hair-do, and inhaled deeply of the scented shampoo. The feel of her bare skin under his hands--he could barely stand the wait.

They were near the bed. Ron sat down with Kim on his lap. They leaned over together and lay down on the mattress. She kicked her shoes from her feet and her pants from her ankles. Ron let go of Kim's wrists and she turned around. With practiced movements, she lay under him, and he atop her, straddling her waist. He laced his fingers with hers again and gently pinned her hands to the bed by her head.

She looked up at him, those liquid green eyes full of entreaty. "Do you still intend to enslave me? I warn you, my rescuer will be here soon."

It was all included in The Game. Neither of them could quite remember how it came about--not that they even talked about it. Ron had made some references to bondage intercourse years ago. It was meant in pure fun. He was shocked when Kim demurely agreed to it. He had never meant it seriously. In fact, he was entirely at a loss how to initiate such intercourse. Kim was his queen. He could not conceive of degrading or forcing her, even on the make-believe basis of bondage, if his life depended on it. And so in a slow and patient way, it was she who led the way, giving him verbal lead-ins and hints, by whispers and signs. It proved to be very fun, and very erotic.

For just a moment, each looked at the other with adoring gazes.

She's so beautiful, he thought. She just gets better as the years go by. She was so sweet as a lover. In high school, her temper was legendary. She was always "tweaked", as she called it. He would never have guessed that she would not display a trace of that temper during romance--at least not with him. Josh was a moron to give her up--totally out of his gourd--whatever his reasons were--and even if she did have her tweakish moments, hey--it was Kim--anything would be worth the price to be with her.

He's so wonderful, she thought. He just gets better as the years go by. He was so gentle and considerate as a lover. In high school, his passivity was legendary. He was always slow, no motivation, always borrowing her class notes, her money. They were always hanging out at her folk's house, not his. She would never have guessed that once they got involved with each other, all that self-interest he had would shift entirely to her. That's one of the reasons he walked away when it looked like Josh was trying to start things up again. So like Ron. He was willing to let me go when he thought Erik was what I wanted. And after we were dating, he walked away again--because he thought Josh was better for me than he was. It was the one time in Kim's life that she was angry enough with Ron to feel hate for him. Why didn't he just ask what I wanted, instead of assuming that Josh was the better guy for me? But Kim had to be honest. She was as much at fault as Ron was. The one time in her life she didn't speak up--she thought that Ron didn't want her--just as Ron thought that she wanted Josh. Each was guilty of being, in a way, too considerate. And those misconceptions cost them both dearly. It took many years and much soul-baring to correct the false impressions.

They gazed at each other's face and got lost in the moment.

And Kim finally said in a dulcet voice, "Ron?"

"Huh?" He shook his head as though in a daze.

She smiled a gentle smile. "Your clothes are still on."

He grinned a sheepish grin "Oh, yeah."

She slipped her hands out of his loose grip. She unbuckled his belt and unzipped his zipper. She slid his pants down, and her toes skillfully slid them off his legs. He heard his pants fall to the floor at the foot of the bed. Then she slipped her hands under the hem of his pullover shirt and pulled it off over his head and arms while he stood upright on his knees.

"Oh, Ron," said Kim, surprised. "Red satin boxer shorts! Me like!"

"Damn, girl," he said in admiration. "You still got the touch. You could change my clothes while I was standing somewhere and I would never even know it."

Kim smirked and jabbed him lightly with her little finger in his rib cage. "You know it, boy. If I wanted to, I could so pickpocket your boxer shorts right off you--without even taking your pants off. I had lots of practice when both your arms were in a cast." She ran a hand over his chest. "God, Ron," she said admiringly, "you are so defined. You've been working out."

He shrugged. "Yeah. It's something Bonnie always was on me to do." His face clouded. "She liked how it looked, she said."

Kim's face fell. "Oh, Ron. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you sad."

"What happened is what happened, K.P. Like with you and Josh." He smiled. "I love that puppy pout" He leaned down and kissed her lips. "I love you, too," he whispered.

She wound her arms around his neck as they kissed. "Ron--how are we supposed to cope with all this sadness? Will we still be together years from now? Will we always sneak around in secret like this?"

He thought a moment. "I don't know. But I don't intend to let you go again. And having you is what makes the sadness bearable. You rock my world, Kim Possible. I couldn't save my world--or my heart--or handle my life without you." He smiled. "By the way. You're not all the way undressed, either."

Kim smiled also. "And you forget, my captor. My hero is coming to rescue me." She extended her arms. "Go for it. Keep undressing me."

So Their Game would resume. Ron slipped his hands under the hem of Kim's crop top and pulled it off over her head. "K.P.! A red satin bra! Me like!"

Kim smiled coyly. "My brave hero! You rescued me from my abductor!" She pulled him down upon her and kissed him madly.

It always puzzled Ron exactly how Kim determined when she was free from her abductor. At what point in Their Game did it take place? It was never the same twice. He shrugged. Whatever Kim decided, it was good.

Their foreplay was long and intense. They would run their fingers through each other's hair. She would nip his neck. He would bite her ear lobe

With his fingers he traced the outline of her ear, her neck, and her arms. With his hands he caressed her shoulders, her hips, and her thighs. With his hands he cupped her breasts and buttocks, and stroked her labia

With her fingers, she traced the outline of his ear, his forehead, and his shoulders. With her fingernails she stroked up and down his back, and made the tingles come. And her fingers twined with his--and carressed his organ, until she could feel the iron in it.

And their legs would twine like ivy vines.

And at last Kim would whisper, "Ron! Please! I can't wait! Rescue me! Now!"

And Ron would slide his rigid organ into her. And she would shiver with delight. And he would halt--for just a moment--to delay the inevitable eruption

Sometimes while Ron was thrusting in and out, Kim would do little extra things--like clasp her legs around him and exert just the right pressure.

Sometimes she would roll them from side to side--which could get interesting. Today they were on a king-sized mattress, but on other occasions, she had rolled them off the bed onto the floor--much to his bewilderment and her pealing laughter--and they would either resume or begin the foreplay all over again.

Sometimes she would even insist that they continue the Captive Game. Ron would spread-eagle Kim's arms and legs, pinning her ankles with his feet and her wrists with his hands (this took a certain amount of limberness.) And she would twist and writhe under him in pretend-distress. "Please! Stop! I'm begging you! No more! I can't stand it!" she would moan.

Why? Because it was Kim. It was her way. Because Ron has spent a lifetime doing what was asked of him by his extraordinary friend and lover. Kim was a blend of aggressive assertiveness and demure shyness. Josh has liked it when they first dated in sophomore year of high school--and then he belittled it after they had married. Both Erik and Señor Senior Junior had accused Kim of sending mixed signals

But Ron understood. It was Kim. It was her way. And that was explanation enough. If she wanted it, that was reason enough.

Law enforcement profilers and forensic psychiatrists all over the world had analyzed their relationship in their Team Possible mission days. Gossip columns, talk shows, teenage fan magazines, and even sensationalistic tabloids had analyzed their relationship in their dating days. No one could agree. Who was dominant and when? No one could categorize it.

But that was the world outside. And Ron would not allow the world outside to intrude upon himself and the queen of his desire while they were together

Even as Kim had her arsenal of techniques, Ron had his ways. He would thrust faster, slower, deeper, shallower, even at different angulation--all to prolong the time and increase Kim's pleasure and delay his own

And when he knew Kim had peaked--by the sound of her helpless gasping--or her series of high-pitched yips--or the rigid iron grip of her arms and legs clasping around him--then he was satisfied. He has scored. And only then would he unleash the final flurry of thrusts that would ensure himself reaching his own orgasm.

And as Kim felt Ron shiver with his emotional and physical release, she drew him into her warmth and comfort. She would not leave him behind. She hugged his neck, whispering, "I love you, Ron Stoppable! I couldn't save my world--or my heart--without you."

And they would lay drenched in sweat, panting, and smiling, and laughing.

Ron chuckled to himself.

Kim nudged him. "What?"

He grinned like an idiot. "Well,--"

Kim shook him. "C'mon! Tell me! What?"

Ron smirked. "This bondage-domination thing--I'm kinda getting into it. Maybe we should make it more realistic. Like I meet you somewhere, tie you up, and carry you to the room. And then while I straddle you, and hold your arms down, you cuss me out and beat on me with your knees."

Kim succumbed to helpless giggles herself. "You're hopeless. You're so weird--but I so love you!"

And entwined in each other's embrace--or Ron spooning Kim, or Kim spooning Ron--they mumbled their "Good-night" 's and drifted off to contented sleep.

As usual, Kim awoke first and ordered up some food to be delivered to the room. Then she showered and shampooed--and gazed with love upon the sleeping figure in the bed, his tousled head upon the pillow, his arms lying on the covers. She kissed him gently on the cheek, and then on the lips. "Good morning, dearest."

Ron was dreaming of rescuing Kim from the hordes of Monkey Fist's Ninja Monkeys--or of Kim rescuing him--he couldn't really tell. Anyhow, the one rescued was bestowing a reward on their rescuer. A warm tingling sensation on his lips stirred him slowly awake. He opened his eyes and a golden aura surrounded Kim. "K.P! Good morning!"

"Hey, handsome--feeling hungry?"

"After being both your abductor and rescuer? I could eat a horse."

"Well--I didn't order any horse meat--but there is a hot meal coming up. Steak-and -potatoes, burritos, and scrambled eggs and toast."

"Wow. All that?"

"Yes. I know your appetite. So whatever you want--whether it's a late dinner or an early breakfast, you can have it."

"Great!" And his eyes twinkled. "But what will you eat?"

She pushed him playfully. "The crumbs, if I'm lucky. Now go shower. I even left you some hot water."

The food was served while he was showering. And as she closed the door, and arranged the table of the suite, strong arms suddenly wrapped around her waist. Kim was being pulled backward to the bed. She did not even mind that the arms were still wet.

She turned in Ron's arms and hugged his head to her chest. "Oh, Ron," she sighed, "I wish we had the time."

He grinned slyly. "You kiddin'? Remember the quickie we had--or almost had--that Christmas Eve at your parent's house? I was reminding you of the kiss you gave me under the mistletoe that Christmas with Drakken and Shego--and we started making out--and you undid my pants--and I undid your bra--"

Kim blushed bright red. "Oh, God. I had forgotten."

"But you remember now, huh? Oh yeah." He held up a thumb and forefinger. "We came that close to having our first time in your bedroom--during your family's Christmas Eve."

"We were lucky that Nana found us instead of the Tweebs--or Daddy. He would have Black-holed us both. As it was, Nana scared the daylights out me when she came in my room."

Ron shook his head and chuckled. "I had told Rufus to keep an eye out for your parents and brothers. And there came your Nana--."

Kim became sad. "And now they're both gone--just like Daddy--just like so many of our hopes and dreams. Oh, Ron--is this the way it's always going to be? Meeting in secret? Once every month or two?"

Ron shook his head. "I don't know, Kim. It's all so unsure. I don't even look ahead any more. I want what you and I have to continue--and I want my girls' mother to wake up--it's contradictory. I just thank God for my daily happiness and pray for daily strength.

While they ate, their conversation turned to their children.

"Where's Jon--with your mother?" asked Ron.

"No," answered Kim, "With Josh for a couple weeks. I don't want him growing up without at least some connection with his father. But I sometimes wonder if it's worth the trouble. Josh hardly makes the effort."

Ron mused. "K.P., look at this way. You're not having a bitter custody dispute."

"I suppose," sighed Kim. How are the girls?

"Oh, Frankie's great! She inherited Brick's athletic ability without his allergy to homework. She's learned everything I can teach her about the Monkey Kung-fu. Now she wants to learn Mantis--from you!"

"Me? Why?"

"Says she's seen enough video of you to know you're better than I am at it.

"Oh, Ron, I doubt it."

"I'm telling you, K.P., she's as stubborn as Bonnie."

"How are Kim and Mim?"

Ron beamed with pride. "Oh, Kim--I'm tellin' you--they're the best thing that ever happened to me. But just so you know--they're a handful, too." He shook his head. "I have a new appreciation of your parents--raising a daughter and twins."

Kim nudged his are playfully. "I'll thank you to remember, Mr. Stoppable--twin boys are much harder for a sister to deal with."

Ron smiled. "You're sure about that, huh?"

"I don't believe Frankie will ever have to worry about her sisters showing home movies of her being potty-trained when she starts dating."

"Like Jim and Tim did with you? Yeah, that sounds like a guy thing." Ron mused. "Yeah. Frankie dating. Makes me feel old."

"Ron! She's hardly eleven! Let the girl grow up!"

"Well--I'm just looking ahead. It's a dad thing."

"Ron, how do you do it? My ex-is hardly interested in his own son--who's so like him it's uncanny. You're as stuck on someone not even your own."

Ron looked baffled. "Hell, isn't that what being a parent is about? You love the kid because it's natural to--because they need it. It doesn't have a thing to do with biology."

Kim never mentioned it, but it was the final irony. Josh, who had shown such promise as a commercial artist and gallery owner, had failed as a husband, a father, and a provider. She thanked Providence time and again--for her parents' example, for her own academic persistence, for the close ties she had with both Wade Load and Felix Renton. She made more than a comfortable living for herself and Jon working for the Foundation that aided in the efforts of small struggling high tech firms.

And Ron--who looked like he might barely finish high school and community college with passing grades, found his niche with a catering business--and found the ability to love a woman who was already a single mother--and to love another man's child as though it were his own. The fact was especially bitter that she might have been that woman--had not Bonnie lost Brick, and belatedly recognized how good a man Ron was--as Kim also belatedly saw.

But in a way, she did have Ron--just not honestly.

Ron left after the meal was done. They had a final kiss and hug by the door. He would go back to his daughters and visit his comatose wife. She would go back to her luxury Denver high-rise and wait for her son's flight to arrive in a couple days.

"This part really sucks, K.P. The secrecy. You deserve better than running around like a mistress. Like the Other Woman."

"We both do, Ron. That's life. Sometimes it's not pretty."

And neither would know when they might see each other again.

They had been lovers for over a year--ever since Bonnie slipped into coma. Kim had come to the intensive care unit night after night to comfort Ron, who never seemed to leave. On this one night, she found him on his knees beside the bed of his wife, head bowed and hands clasped.

"Ron? How long have you been here?"

"I don't know--hours--days."

"When did you last eat?"

"Dunno--same thing."

Kim put a hand on his shoulder. "Let me take you home. Jon and the twins are still at my mom's house. I'll fix you something--or we can call out for something. You need to sleep--in your own bed. You're killing yourself."

Ron put his hand on Kim's. "No. I can't. Not by myself. Not without her. Not in that bed."

"Mom's house, then." They've put you up for years. C'mon, please. It'll be like a sleepover. You and your daughters and my son. The kids would love it. Mom wouldn't mind. She misses you calling her 'Mrs.Dr.P.' You haven't been over since Daddy passed away."

"No. It's really good of your mom to look after Kim and Mim--but me included? It would be like I'm a basket case. It would be imposing."

"Ron! You are a basket case." She began to weep. "Please. Bonnie wouldn't want this." She made a desperate offer. "Come to my hotel room. I won't do anything--improper. I promise. Come on. For a night. For a few hours. A decent sleep. In a bed, not a fold-out chair."

Ron let himself be led. Kim told herself after, she should have known better. When at her hotel suite, she made him shower--his first in days. She sent his clothes out for cleaning. She called for a hot meal to be sent up. Dr. Kimberly Possible-Mankey, administrator of the Load-Renton Foundation, could afford the few extra dollars.

Kim had just sent out his clothing, and was waiting for the meal to arrive. She had ordered nachos, pizza, steak and potatoes--she knew Ron's appetite. Whether he wanted fancy food or fast food, she would be ready. And chances were that he would eat it all. She listened to the shower water running and went over the notes for her speech the next day. The speech for the dedication of the James Timothy Possible Research Building at the Middleton Space Center. Named in memory of their most prominent scientist, who had passed away much too young.

And there was Ron. In the bathroom doorway. Dripping wet. Hair plastered to his head. Towel around his waist. "Hey, K.P. This swank five star hotel you're staying in. Can they afford a bathrobe with their linen, or do I eat with the towel on?" He smirked. "Or maybe I could wear some clothes of yours--like the time we switched bodies."

The sound of her nickname. His old tone of voice. The stupid smirk. The dorky humor. The Old Ron. She hadn't seen him in years. They were in each other's arms in the blink of an eye. Kissing madly, fondling, grasping, embracing.

A knock on the door. "Dr. Possible-Mankey? Your meal has arrived, Ma-am."

Kim and Ron parted clumsily. Her careful hair was disheveled, her careful clothes wet and disheveled, her careful make-up smeared. "Just a moment," she called. She tucked her blouse back in, brushed her hair back with her hands, and opened the door. The cart was wheeled in, two places were deftly set at the suite dining table, serving trays were deftly set out, and the waiter courteously left after receiving his tip. The five star hotel knew how to take care of their guests. No one would question Mr. Stoppable's presence in Dr Possible-Mankey's room, or Mr. Stoppable's clothes being laundered. He was the guest of an honored guest. Many of the hotel management and staff had been recipients of Team Possible's help in the days of their missions.

Ron came back out from the bathroom where he had ducked into. They made love on the floor. The food was untouched. They feasted on each other, like victims of famine. And when they had consummated their act, and lay panting among her strewn clothes and his towel, he lifted her up in his arms and carried her to the spacious shower. Half in fun, like two kids having their first sexual experience, and half in somber seriousness, like newlyweds sealing their marriage vows with the physical union, they made love again under the hot spray. He gently pinned her wrists against the wall, and entered her again and again. He shampooed her hair, and lathered her back, and she likewise him, and they luxuriated under the feel of gentle massaging fingers. The sight of her upturned face and closed eyes as she rinsed off under the stream of water was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He crushed her breathless in his arms and bestowed kiss after kiss on her wet lips. She smiled mischievously, and leaning her face back under the shower, squirted a mouthful of water at his face. He also smiled slyly and tickled her belly as he held her from behind, her playful squeals echoing off the tile walls.

Ron swathed Kim in towels and carried her to the bed. They made love yet again, and finally collapsed in exhaustion. Kim stroked the arms that held her as he spooned her. Her wet locks lay on his cheek as he smothered his face in her hair and cuddled her all the tighter.

In the morning, Ron spoke slowly. "K.P.--last night was just so--sensational--amazing--but--I don't know--"

Kim placed a finger on his lips. "It's my fault. I knew something might happen. I should apologize to you."

"Still--I know Josh left you a couple months ago--just before Bonnie got sick--"

Kim embraced Ron. "Josh left me long before he moved out. He was into his little co-ed models soon after Jon was born. I know you feel like you're cheating on Bonnie. But I'm going to pray that I alone will bear the guilt. God help me, I was starving. And I think I can live the rest of my life content, knowing that our love hasn't died, and never will."

Kim made the speech that day, honoring Dr. James Timothy Possible, who was loyal to the woman he loved and the children he raised, but her eyes were upon Ron, and her words were meant for him as much as for the memory of her father.

Jim Possible's widow Dr. Annette Possible and her grandson Jonathan Mankey sat between her sons Jim and Tim and their wives. Ron sat next to them with his three daughters Kim and Mim Stoppable, and Frankie Flagg. He acknowledged Kim's eyes upon him, and answered with his eyes upon her.

Later, Jon asked a question. He asked it quietly, but it was like dropping a bombshell. That was his father's way, also--leave a big impact without making a noise. "Mom--are you seeing Ron Stoppable?"

That was also Josh's way--he could see right through her. Kim didn't even think to deny it. "How can you tell?"

And Jon smiled--the quiet half-smile that from his father used to make Kim's head swim. "Because you glow. Because you're in love. It's okay. I'm cool with it. Dad has a new babe in the sheets every time I go there. Hell, he's happy. Why shouldn't you be happy?"

Kim was a little surprised at Jon's jadedness. "I't a terrible way to live a life, Jon. And I'm sorry for the effect this has on you. You sound more like a cynical old man than a pre-adolescent school boy. No one should have to go through what you've gone through at your age. I sure didn't. And of course I'm cheating on my best friend, Mrs. Stoppable."

"Yeah. Life's messy. Most of my friends at school live worst that me. I'm pretty lucky. Really. I got my mom and nana and my talent."

And the affair continued for more than a year--until Bonnie Stoppable came awake.

TO BE CONTINUED