Chapter One: Gloomy

"Hey Kim!"

Kim Possible, a pretty, athletic senior at Middleton High, raised her head and pushed a lock of auburn hair back from her face.

"Hey yourself, Monique," Kim said. She smiled, but it was a forced smile, and quickly faded. Monique slid into the desk next to Kim and eyed her speculatively.

"What?" Kim demanded awkwardly. "Do I have a zit or something?"

Monique shook her head. "You feeling OK, girlfriend? You look a little down."

Kim sighed heavily. "Ah, it's just that things have been kind of weird all week, ever since the whole Moodulator thing."

Monique quirked an eyebrow at her friend. "Weirder than having your emotions controlled by a microchip on the back of your neck?" Kim chuckled in spite of herself, but her despondent look soon returned.

“Almost” she allowed. “Ron’s been in a funk all week too. Every time he sees me he lights up,” Kim related, brightening a bit herself. “Then he gets this pained look on his face, and he sighs.” Kim looked at Monique. “He thinks I don’t notice, but it’s so sad, it’s breaking my heart.”

“Well, given how you were acting, can you blame him?” Monique asked, twirling a lock of her curly brown hair around one finger.

Kim cringed. “Not at all,” she shook her head and flushed slightly. The memories came flooding in, of her making goo-goo eyes at Ron, following him all over school, passing sugary notes to him in class, kissing him...

“I made such an ass of myself,” Kim muttered, looking at the floor.

“You were crushing on a guy, so what?” Monique challenged.

“I was crushing on Ron, Monique,” Kim retorted.

“And that’s bad why?”

“It’s Ron, Monique. Ron.” Kim said severely. Monique expression became reproachful, and Kim wilted. “I mean sure, he’s my best friend, and has been forever,” Kim clarified. She inhaled deeply, and a slight smile touched her lips. “And he’s the sweetest guy ever,” she added. “And he is cute, in a bumbling, awkward sort of way,” she went on, her expression softening. Monique’s eyes narrowed, and a sly grin crossed her face.

“How is he at kissing?” she inquired.

“He’s wonderful,” Kim sighed dreamily. Then she sat bolt upright. “Monique!”

Monique gave Kim her best total innocent look, but her eyes were sparkling.

“Sounds like somebody is still crushing, Moodulator or no.”

“Don’t even start Monique,” Kim snapped angrily. “It’s bad enough that my parents and the Tweebs won’t let it lie. I don’t need it from you too.”

Monique held up her hands. “Sorry, Kim,” she apologized. “That wasn’t nice of me.” She paused and gave Kim a sympathetic look. “The terrible two giving you a hard time?”

“You know it,” Kim snarled. She frowned bitterly. “All the time at home it’s ‘Kim and Ron, sitting in a tree...’ I swear I’m gonna break their necks if they don’t lay off soon.”

Monique put her hand over Kim’s and squeezed it gently. “It’ll be all right, Kim, just give it time.”

Ron Stoppable, normally an irrepressibly cheerful young man, meandered aimlessly through Middleton’s old railroad yard. The deserted, grass and weed grown expanse was a perfect place to mope. He was headed more or less toward home, but was in no hurry. School had just let out, and his parents wouldn’t even get home until after five o’clock, so he had plenty of time to think. About Kim Possible. The very thought of her sent a warm, happy glow through him, and he allowed himself to revel in it. Thoughts of warm green eyes and long, silky red hair brought a smile to Ron’s face. He closed his eyes and remembered, remembered that glorious moment at her locker, when she had thrown her arms around his neck and kissed him. Kissed him. Right there in the hall, in front of everybody. He’d resisted at first, more than a little freaked out by what was going on, by Kim’s bizarre behavior. He’d known that something was wrong, that Kim wasn’t in her right mind, but when her lips touched his... Ron smiled a bittersweet smile. His resistance had faded quickly. “Instantly,” he corrected with a small chuckle. He’d put his arms around her, tried to draw her closer, and she’d come, willingly, even eagerly. The feel of Kim’s body against his, the scent of her hair and skin and perfume, the taste of her mouth, had been burned into Ron’s brain in a moment he never wanted to end.

And then it had. All because of that God-damned, never to be sufficiently accursed Moodulator It was frightening, how fast the miserable little gadget had altered her moods. Worse, was the rage that had coursed through Kim after that idiot Drakken had used his stolen Electron Magneto-Accelerator to boost the Moodulator’s power. Even though he’d known it was artificial, Ron had never seen Kim that angry. And she’d been angry at him, for trying to break up with her on their first date.

Ron winced as an almost physical pain took the place of the happiness he’d been feeling. Break up with Kim. At the time it had seemed like the right thing to do, the respectful thing to do, since Kim wasn’t herself. Hell, it was still the right thing to have done. As awkward and embarrassing as the immediate aftermath of the Moodulator’s effects had been, for both of them, Ron knew it would have been a hundred times worse if he’d tried to take advantage of her. But part of him still wished that he had. He hated himself for it, but he couldn’t help it. It had been just five days, and every waking moment of those days had been consumed with thoughts of Kim. Touching her, caressing her, kissing her. Ron had wondered about dating Kim before, but his thoughts had never strayed beyond holding hands and kissing. Now, for the first time, he was wondering what it would be like to have sex with her. Sex with Kim. Part of him shuddered at the notion, while another part was obsessed with it, still another was wracked with guilt over entertaining such thoughts in the first place and a fourth assured him that it would be the most wonderful thing he’d ever experience. He sighed and rubbed his temples.

“It’s all academic anyway,” he told himself. “Kim isn’t interested.” That was certain. Kim’s ardor hadn’t returned. She was back to her normal self, friendly and caring, but not romantic. Ron had allowed himself to hope, when she mentioned fireworks, but those hopes had been dashed instantly, and he refused to entertain them anymore.

“Congratulations Ron,” he castigated himself bitterly. “Another crush, on another girl you’ll never have. Well done.”

Chapter Two: Apprehensive

Monique walked into Study Hall and scanned the room. Her eyes found Kim at a table in the far back corner of the room. That was unusual. Kim typically sat toward the center-front of any class she was in, even Study Hall. It was part of the whole 'captain of the cheerleading squad/see and be seen thing'. Kim might not be on Middleton High's popularity 'A' list, but Monique knew her friend enjoyed being at or near the center of attention, even if she didn't obsessively crave it the way others did. Kim hadn't noticed her either, bent over her notebook as she was. She was writing something, pausing often to examine her work with a critical eye. Monique approached silently and took a seat across from her.

"Hey girlfriend!"

Kim's head jerked up. She closed her notebook and drew it toward her protectively. When she saw who was speaking to her she relaxed a bit.

"Hey Monique," Kim said cheerily, a bright, if somewhat forced, smile on her face.

"Feeling better?" Monique inquired with a bemused grin. Kim's own smile broadened and she nodded vigorously.

"Oh, sure," she confirmed. "I think I'm getting that whole Moodulator/crush on Ron thing into perspective."

Monique raised an eyebrow. "After a week of pining, in just twenty-four hours, you've put your fling with Ron behind you?"

"Yes, except it wasn't a 'fling', it was a misunderstanding, that's all," Kim corrected.

"Uh huh." Monique just sat and stared at Kim. After a few moments Kim began to squirm, and it was then that Monique struck, her hand darting out to snag Kim's notebook.

"Hey!" Kim yelped, grabbing for the book and missing as Monique leaned back out of reach. Monique casually opened the spiral bound tome and located the page she was looking for, the one Kim had been doodling on. She scanned the page, then looked up at Kim, who turned pink without a word being said.

"Uh huh," Monique repeated. "You're over Ron." Her gaze returned to the page. "That must be why you've been writing his name in your notebook over and over." Kim's blush intensified.

"Mmmm," Monique went on. "Ron Stoppable, with little hearts in place of the 'O's'," she commented absently. She read on. "Ronald Stoppable, with smiley faces." Monique's eyes widened as they caught a new variation. She looked up at Kim, who met her gaze with the look of a deer caught in headlights.

"Kimberly Anne Stoppable?" Monique had never actually seen someone turn magenta before. Kim sagged in her chair, like she wanted to sink into the floor and disappear.

"Ok," Kim confessed in a tiny voice. "Maybe I'm not entirely over it."

Monique laughed. "Not entirely over it? That's putting it mildly."

Kim buried her face in her hands. "I'm so confused, Monique!' she wailed. "I never thought of Ron like that before, and now I can't get the idea out of my head!"

"So, take the ball and run with it."

"Monique! What if what I'm feeling isn't real? What if it's just some weird after effect of the Moodulator? If I start dating Ron, and it turns out I don't lo..." Kim hesitated. "I don't lo..." she swallowed nervously.

"You don't 'have feelings for him'?" Monique supplied.

Kim nodded gratefully. "Ron would be devastated!"

"Well, if you're worried about after effects, why not ask the guy who made it?"

"Hey Stoppable, wait up!"

Ron, who had been lost in thought, turned to see Felix Renton pushing his wheelchair down the hall.

"Hey, what up, Felix?" Ron greeted his friend with a high five.

Felix grinned. "Still bummed about Kim, eh?"

"Wha-wha-what makes you say that?" Ron stammered.

"Uh, you walked right by me in such a funk that you didn't even hear me say hello, Ron."

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that," Ron mumbled, his cheeks coloring.

"Don't sweat it," Felix grinned. "If I was in your shoes I'd be bummed too."

"You aren't helping here, buddy," Ron said darkly.

Felix just chuckled. "Ron, if you have a thing for Kim, just ask her out. You'll never know if she's interested if you don't ask."

"Thanks for the advice, Dad," Ron growled, stalking off down the hallway. Felix pushed after him.

"Ron, c'mon! Don't be so uptight!"

Ron whirled. "Don't be uptight?" he grated. "Easy for you to say. Kim didn't kiss you front of the whole school!"

Felix fixed Ron with a calm, steady gaze. "You're right of course," he admitted quietly. "She didn't kiss me." Felix's gaze became penetrating. "She kissed you!"

Ron frowned in puzzlement. “What are you getting at?”

“Simple,” Felix explained. “The Moodulator made Kim feel the emotion of love, right?” Ron nodded silently. “But it didn’t tell her who to direct that love at, did it?” Even as Ron’s eyes began to widen, and his jaw to sag, Felix plowed on. “And did she kiss me? Or Josh Mankey? Or anyone else? No. She kissed Ron Stoppable.”

Ron staggered as the weight of Felix’s suggestion crashed into him. He sagged against the wall. “Oh my God! You think Kim...that she...she really-?”

“Whoa, Ron,” Felix interrupted. “I’m not saying that Kim loves you.” Ron’s face fell. “What I am saying is that she obviously considers you more than just a friend, and that you can use that as a jumping off point, but you have to ask her.” Felix wheeled his chair up to Ron and stared up at his friend. “You’ve got an inside track, Ron. You know that the girl you’re interested in sees something in you. Now, you need to act on that knowledge. Ask her out!”

Chapter Three: Nervous

'I can do this,' Ron assured himself for the hundredth time as he approached the corner. Students heading to and from their lockers swirled around him unheeded. Around that corner was Kim’s locker, and probably Kim herself. Ron eyed a nearby clock. He had three minutes and forty-two seconds ‘til his next class. He took a deep breath, and plunged around the corner.

Ron stopped in spite of his determination. There she was. Her locker was open, hiding her face as she rummaged inside it. Ron dredged up more nerve. ‘Steady Ron. This isn’t some unattainably pretty girl. This is Kim.’ Yeah. Kim. Only the prettiest girl in the whole world. What could be more unattainable than that? Ron gave himself a savage mental kick. ‘Belay the negative attitude!’ he snapped at himself. Another deep breath. Square the shoulders. Into the abyss.

“Hey K. P!”

Kim flinched in surprise and her head popped back to see around the locker door. “Ron!” The smile on her face was dazzling and Ron felt his stomach lurch, but in a good way, like riding a fast down elevator.

“How ya doing?”

“Oh, not bad.” Kim paused. A slight...frown? But it faded as fast as it had come. “I haven’t seen you much lately.”

Ron’s nerves were jangling, and he felt his face heat, but he forced himself to speak casually. “Well, ya know. This week’s been kinda weird.”

“Weird’s the word all right,” Kim agreed. “I mean...” she hesitated. “I’ve been...you know.” She was floundering uncomfortably.

“No big, K. P.” Ron said, surprising himself with how reassuring he sounded. Kim almost sagged with relief. Her eyes glowed with gratitude, and a message Ron understood perfectly: Thank you for understanding how I feel, even though I can’t put it into words. Her eyes. Big, green, warm, beautiful. He could stare into them forever, no trouble at all, what with the way she was staring right back and...

Ron shook himself. ‘Stay focused.’ Another frown creased Kim’s brow, but it was a puzzled frown, not a disapproving one.

“Anyway,” Ron said, swallowing nervously, trying not to stammer, “It being Friday and all, I was thinking we could go see that Brad Pitt movie you’ve been talking about.”

Kim blinked. “Brad Pitt movie?” she said blankly. She blushed suddenly and exclaimed, “Movie! Right! Yes! That sounds like fun, Ron,” she finished, a bit more calmly, giving herself a one armed hug. The arm was high enough that it made her breasts rise slightly, and Ron about died. What was it that dude on ‘Queer Eye’ had said about a woman drawing attention to her bosom? Fighting panic and a sudden surge of hormones, Ron squeaked, “So, afternoon matinee work for you?”

Kim froze. Her face fell, and Ron felt his spirits plummet. ‘Oh no,’ he thought, ‘she’s gonna turn me down.’ The excitement of moments earlier melted into black despair. ‘And what’s with this emotional roller coaster? It’s killing me.’

“Ah, I have an errand I have to run right after school,” she explained, “but...” Ron felt a wild surge of hope. “I promised my folks I’d be home for supper, so how about the seven o’clock show?” Joy.

“Seven is good for me,” Ron agreed. Kim smiled again, and Ron’s knees went weak. “Hey,” he suggested, “Why don’t you skip supper at home? I’ll pick you up at six, and we can stop by Bueno Nacho, or something.”

“Six it is,” Kim confirmed, still smiling that heart melting smile. “I have to get to class,” she said, and Ron was sure he heard regret in her voice.

“Me too,” he said softly, almost unable to believe that what had just happened had actually happened. Kim turned away, paused, turned back, smiled again, and said “See you tonight, Ron.” Then she was gone, and Ron sagged against the bank of lockers. He reveled in his victory until the class bell jarred him back to reality. Hastily collecting himself, Ron sprinted off to his own class.

Kim Possible looked anxiously at Cyrus Bortel. She was seated in a comfortable chair in front of his desk, a huge thing that made the vertically challenged scientist seem even smaller. She had kept Bortel’s inventions out of the wrong hands (namely Dr. Drakken’s) twice now, and the least the good doctor could do, she reasoned, was settle any doubts she had about the effects of his latest gadget.

“How does my Moodulator work?” he repeated her question, a slight German accent coloring his words. “Well, that’s a difficult question. Would you like to know that actual mechanism, or the theory behind it?”

Kim hesitated. She didn’t consider herself an overly prideful person, but she hated to appear ignorant. “Uh, which is simpler?” she asked.

“The theory,” Bortel said with a tolerant smile.

“I’ll take the theory then,” Kim said, hiding her embarrassment behind a smile.

“Well, to simplify, the Moodulator stimulates specific emotional centers in the frontal lobe of the subject’s brain, while simultaneously suppressing the region that controls inhibition.”

Kim frowned in puzzlement. “Why suppress inhibition?”

Bortel chuckled. “American’s tend to be a reserved people, with a strong aversion to showing emotion in public,” he explained. “Suppressing their inhibitions makes the Moodulator more effective, because they don’t fight it so much.”

“That makes sense,” Kim agreed. ’I guess,’ she added silently. “But about these emotions your device creates -” Bortel halted her with a raised hand. “No,” he shook his head. “The Moodulator doesn’t create emotions, so much as it amplifies them.”

“Amplifies?” Kim repeated softly.

“Ja. For example, if you were somewhat irritated with me, and wearing a Moodulator that was then set to ’Anger’ your irritation would grow to fury.”

“And if it was set to, say, ’Happy’?”

“Your mood would change, of course.” Bortel smiled. “You might even become giddy. But you would not suddenly be happy about what I had done to irritate you. Something else that already had a positive emotion associated with it would take it’s place.”

Kim sat quietly for a moment, eyes downcast as she debated whether or not to pose her next question. Finally, blushing, she looked up. “I, ah, spent most of my time...er, that is, while I was wearing it, the Moodulator was set on ’Love’ and I, uh...”

“Something awkward happened?” Bortel asked. Kim nodded.

“There’s this guy, and I kind of, well...”

“’This guy’ as you put it, he is perhaps that young man who assists you?”

Kim’s face flamed at Bortel’s insight. The little scientist favored her with a grandfatherly smile. “I am a scientist, Ms. Possible, not a poet, so matters of the heart are not my specialty. But I can tell you this: my Moodulator can only make you more liable to do something you are already inclined to do. It cannot make you do something you don’t, at some level, already want to do.”

Kim favored Bortel with a look of pure gratitude. The exhilaration she’d felt when Ron asked her out had been underlain with dread that her response hadn’t been her own, and she’d acceded more for Ron’s sake than her own. It had taken a lot of courage, she knew, for him to ask her out, even with the effort he’d put into making it sound like he wasn’t asking for a date. Kim was grateful for that. If he had said the ‘d’ word, she probably would have said no, and that would likely have doomed their friendship. But he hadn’t. Whether the omission had been deliberate or accidental, Kim didn’t know, and now didn’t care. She pushed back her chair and stood up.

“Thank you for your time, Dr. Bortel, you’ve put my mind at ease.”

“My pleasure, Ms. Possible, it was the least I could do.”

Kim grinned at him, glanced at her watch and said, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date to get ready for.”

Chapter Four: Relieved

Ron parked his scooter in front of the Possible home and looked at his watch. Five fifty-three. Seven minutes early. He shrugged nervously. It had taken most of his will power to wait as long as he had, and even then he'd had to drive around the neighborhood four times.

"Eh, better early than late," he reminded himself.

He paused at the front door, debating whether to ring the bell, or just walk right in. His hesitation lasted right up until he remembered what had happened the last time he rang the doorbell. "Yeek!" he shuddered. That encounter, with a giddy Mrs. Dr. Possible and a grim Mr. Dr. Possible, had pegged the weird meter, and while in retrospect it was touching, it wasn't something he cared to go through again.

He was through the door and halfway to the living room when Mrs. Dr. Possible came barreling out of the kitchen on an intercept vector, her arms spread wide.

"Ronald!" she exclaimed, enveloping him in a crushing hug. "I'm just thrilled you and Kimmy are going on another date!" Ron hesitantly returned the embrace. He hadn't thought anything could surpass last time, but Kim's mom seemed determined to try. She held him out at arms length, gazing at him with unnerving affection, when he heard Mr. Dr. Possible's voice.

"Ronald." Where his wife was over-the-top thrilled, Kim's dad was severe, fixing Ron with a cool glare. Ron gulped.

"Black hole deep?" he stammered. Mr. Dr. Possible nodded once. 'Great, no pressure,' Ron thought sarcastically.

"Mom? Dad? Is that Ron?" Kim's voice floated down from her room.

"Yes, it is," Mrs. Dr. Possible called.

There was the sound of a flurry of activity.

"I'm almost ready," was followed seconds later by, "I'm coming down." Footsteps hammered in the hall and then Kim bounded down the stairs, taking the steps three at a time. She paused at the bottom to compose herself, and looked at Ron.

His heart caught in his throat.

She was so beautiful.

The little black dress he hadn't known she owned was gone, tucked away in her closet no doubt. Faded blue jeans and a sweatshirt that read 'Property of Middleton High School Cheerleading Squad' did service in its place. Good service, too. Especially the jeans, which were pleasantly snug in all the right places. Kim smiled shyly, then did a slow three-sixty so he could get a better look.

"You like?" she asked, a mischievous yet pleased grin on her face.

He was so handsome.

He didn’t look any different, course. His outfit was familiar: baggy pants and a football jersey over a long sleeved tee-shirt. His physique hadn’t changed. He was still skinny and a bit gangly and awkward. It was just that now Kim was seeing the details she had never paid attention to before, or seeing them in a new light. Like the unruly shock of blond hair that he never seemed to be able to do anything with. Or the spray of freckles across his nose. Or the goofy grin that was always so quick to light up his face. Her eyes lingered on that face, dropped briefly to his wonderfully strong, delightfully gentle arms, then rose to meet his gaze. It was a look of pure adoration, and it made her heart race. She turned slowly, letting him drink in every detail, feasting on his expression.

“You like?” she asked, delighted.

“You look...amazing!” Ron said, after a long pause to find the right word. Kim’s blush deepened slightly, but her smile widened.

“You’re looking good yourself,” she commented approvingly, crossing to where he stood. “Home by ten, Dad?” she asked her father. Mr. Dr. Possible’s stern expression eased. “Since it’s Friday, midnight will do,” he said, smiling slightly. Then the frown returned, and he turned to Ron. “And not one second later!”

“No problem, Mr. Dr. P.” Ron promised.

Kim settled herself on the saddle of Ron’s scooter while he started the engine and made the few necessary preparations for getting under way. Her hands were on his hips, and there was a slight gap between them. Kim pondered that briefly. A sly smile crossed her face as inspiration struck. She moved forward so her front was pressed snugly against Ron’s back and cinched her arms around his waist. She felt Ron tense up. Then he inhaled deeply, sighed (happily, Kim thought) and relaxed. After a moment he turned and looked back at her.

“All secure back there?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

“I don’t think I’m going anywhere,” Kim assured him, squeezing him briefly.

“Good.” Ron returned his attention to the road, put the scooter in gear, and they drove off.

Bueno Nacho was a new experience. At least for Kim it was. For Ron too, she was sure, if she read his body language right. They had, of course, eaten at Bueno Nacho hundreds, maybe thousands of times. But that had been as ‘just friends’. Now Kim felt like everyone in the place was staring at them. Every gaze that swept over them seemed to halt and linger for a moment, as if the onlooker were judging them. ‘It’s my imagination,’ Kim told herself as she and Ron stood in line to order. ‘The only thing different about this trip to BN is that Ron has his arm around me.’ Well, that wasn’t quite accurate. Ron’s had put his hand on Kim’s waist, but in the course of moving up in line the hand had drifted down a bit, to settle on her hip. Now it moved again, just a bit aft, and Kim’s eyes widened suddenly. ‘Ron’s going to put his hand on my butt!’ She turned her head slightly, to hide her expression of surprise, and grinned. ‘That sneaky bastard!’ On a lark Kim turned slightly, moving more of her posterior under Ron’s palm. The hand suddenly moved up, and Kim pouted in disappointment as Ron tucked his thumb through one of her belt loops.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized, his face red. Kim said nothing, just gave him a reassuring smile before sliding closer to him. Ron’s hand was secure upon her hip. She sighed contentedly. That would have to do. For now.