Secrets Between 'Friends'

A Kim Possible one-shot fan-fiction
by Francis J. Whittle, aka. fudje

Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, and all related characters are property of Disney, who are going to come after me with a big stick. Kim is probably also going to come after me with a big stick after she's finished with Ace, Jao, and everyone else….

Warnings:
Sexual content, violence, adult themes.
Kim/Ron to the extreme. Character death.

A dozen other stories I want to write, and I'm stopping myself because I actually want to get the first one finished. I think I can handle a one-shot though, and I need to get this one off my chest. I've been infected by you one-shotters, shippers, and neurotiphiles (I'm talking about you, Jao), and I wanted to present another perspective. Maybe it's not original. I don't care that everyone is almost completely out of character, and neither should you. If you find any of this paragraph to be sick, wrong, or both, please just go read something else.


A secret between friends is something sacred, a temple as binding as love itself, something that should never be interfered with, whether you are involved or not.
If you discovered the secrets that your partner kept from you with their friend, how would you react?
Just how dangerous can a secret be?

Begin


The mission over, the villains detained, the military gone, Kim Possible, dripping with sweat and rain, looked over, panting, at her equally soaked partner. They were now alone on the beach of the tropical island.

"Already, KP?" laughed the blonde-haired boy.

Kim raised an eyebrow. "Ron, I was fighting for 2 hours," she replied sternly, "and you hardly did anything at all. You can't possibly chide me for being out of breath." She sat down, and lay back on the sand, closing her eyes.

Crouching down next to her, the poor boy couldn't help it. He had to watch her chest rise and fall. It entranced him as her breathing steadied. His mouth fell open and he smiled involuntarily as the wet fabric of her black top moulded itself to the shape of her body, her nipples protruding tantalisingly from her firm breasts, the bright reflection of the moisture making them as the swirls of vast and beautiful galaxies. He didn't even notice when she opened her eyes.

"Why, you perv!" screamed Kim as she cannoned into his abdomen, briefly winding him, but he could take it. After all, he didn't do nothing as the sidekick, or as she liked to say now, partner of Kim Possible, the teen heroine who could do anything. She was just that, too. His heroine, his addiction. His obsession. She tackled him to the ground, and straddled him, reared up, ready to strike his face. The movement was lightning fast, she ploughed her hand down — into the wet sand next to his head. He smiled his ever so cute goofy smile. Looking deep into his chocolate brown eyes, and he into the jade and emerald kaleidoscope of beauty that were her own, Kim giggled before moving in for the kiss.

Just then the four most familiar tones to the two of them sounded. Kim pulled away from Ron just before making contact, and then collapsed onto him, turning her head and pulling out the Kimmunicator so that it was directly in front of the both of them.

"Wade?" she said to it, perturbed.

"Do you guys need a ride home?" Wade asked.

"Give us an hour," started the redhead.

Ron embraced her with one arm and held a finger to her lips. "There's a temple on this island, and I want to explore her," he finished.

"Eww!" faked the young boy on the other side of the connection. Wade may have been only ten years old, but he was mentally advanced, and with that came an amount of maturity. It would be a while before his hormones made him want to have … relations with girls, but he understood that it was inevitable, and he 'figured that meant he had 3 or 4 years to get into peak physical condition'. That had put the teen couple in hysterics.

"Don't tell a soul," warned Kim.

Wade half-smiled and chuckled. "Hackers' honour, as always," he replied. "Your ride will be there in about an hour and a half." He closed the link and arranged for them to be picked up in two.

Back on the beach, Kim looked slyly at Ron, and smiled a cheeky smile. "Temple?" she asked, holding back laughter.

"You'll always be sacred to me," Ron replied, winking.

Kim let her laughter free, and the pair fell into each other's embrace, began a passionate kiss.

…It had been like this for almost as long as they could remember now. It started innocently enough; After only their second mission, when Kim and Ron, the already famous Team Possible, who'd blundered into the world spotlight by being mistakenly called for by accident instead of Team Impossible and beating T.I.s best time on their maiden mission ('Team Impossible superseded!', 'New super-heroes abound!' said the newspapers), had rescued a young climber from the rock face of a storm-ridden mountain, Kim planted a kiss on Ron's cheek for belaying her line so well as she braved the cliff herself — she had fallen 5 times and he had caught her every time, not a scratch, not a bruise. There was absolutely no way she could have performed the rescue, or even survived trying, without him. The tradition had continued from there, soon a kiss on the cheek turning to a kiss on the lips, until one day when they were actually alone after a mission she made 'a slip of the tongue' – and Ron had found himself kissing right back.


"Hey, Kim–" started Josh, but she didn't hear him. She was too busy running to catch up with her buddy, Ron. Josh envied him, almost hated him – he wished he could have that much time with Kim, his supposed girlfriend. Every time he saw Ron moping around as though he was a loser, he wanted to scream at him how good he had it. He knew what being a loser was — before moving to Middleton, a move that came with a fresh start – a start he took with enthusiasm, he'd been there. Losers didn't have beautiful best friends. Losers didn't have friends at all. Sure, they said they were your friends, but then they stabbed you in the heart and hung you out to dry; Josh had found out the hard way what a 'fucker' was, too – not that he'd ever find courage enough to tell anyone.
He started to follow Kim through the door to the courtyard….

"Ron!" Kim assaulted his ears from almost point blank range.

He still smiled at hearing her voice, though. "Hey, KP," he replied, and smiled wider. He looked around carefully, trying to spot anyone who might see. "Got a present for you," he finally decided was safe to say, and he took a box from his pocket, and opened it. Inside was a simple, but beautiful, white gold ring.

"Wow…." Kim could hardly believe her eyes. "I mean, wow," as he slipped the ring on to her finger. "But … we talked about this. I mean, yes, but a ring is kind of obvious. Like, I could tell my parents that Josh gave it to me, and they'd be very annoyed, and ground me for the rest of forever, and … I could tell Josh something, but it's be like Halloween all over again, only I wouldn't be pretending to lie to you…."

Ron didn't say anything, only kissed her, and pulling away again, winked. Without first closing it, he opened the box again, and she saw two more rings. One had the silvery glow of aluminium and nickel – like a smoothed and polish friendship ring. The other was strange – it was oversized, as though it were to be worn over another ring, but incredibly thin, and made of a rough but translucent cloth-like material.

Now, Ron spoke. "So, put it on your other hand – Call it a friendship ring." After all, why not? Their web of lies and deceit was thick, her using another so that her parents wouldn't suspect, him abhorring the company of girls, making himself appear unwantable, untouchable. He removed the gold ring from her left hand and placed it on her right. Then he eased the cloth ring over it, and handed her the other.

She slipped it onto his right hand, and compared the two rings. She was impressed &mdash for all intents and purposes, they were trivially identical; Like friendship rings. Ron had really done his research. "It's still just our little secret…."

"Yes." The only word that needed to be said. After a pause, he added "the camo is compliments of our genius friend."

"Ah, always Wade's secret, too…" she sighed. "He's the gem among friends — like a brother to us. I wonder, though…. Can he keep a secret such as this?"

"Hackers' honour," stated Ron matter-of-factly. Then he began to recite.

"'Lest my disk heads crash, and my backups burn;
'My processors fry, black my monitors turn;
'This oath I shall not break.
'Hackers' Honour, Promises' word.'
"He's not telling anyone, KP."

"You know about that stuff?" Kim raised an eyebrow.

"I've done some … research"

"Things change every day!" laughed the girl. Then she glanced around the courtyard, studying quickly every shadow. Satisfied they were alone, she planted a short, but passionate, kiss on Ron's lips. "Bueno Nacho?" she asked.

"Cool. Let's go."

They thought they'd been careful. Not every shadow had they seen through, though. Josh boiled with rage. He had seen it all, read their lips. He was back there, back at the start. He was a loser. She had used him. The ancient patterns overcame him, vengeance filled his heart. Never again, would Joshua Mankey be used. Never again would he be abused or hurt. He was beyond them all now, with their hateful glares and their laughing torture. 'She's going to pay,' he told his mind, 'and dearly too. And that bastard is going to die. Painfully.'


Following them from the faux mission – the call that he had registered to lure their game – Joshua Mankey caressed his weapon. It was sharp, and laced with poison. Finally, after weeks of painstaking research, observing, stalking, it was the night. One would die, another would live in their own personal hell. Josh wasn't a spiritual man – his pain would die with him. He didn't care for the pain he would cause others. They couldn't touch him anymore.

They had very nearly made love when they saw that they'd been called to an empty house. Maybe they thought Wade had set up a night for them, maybe they were too desperate for each other to see a trap. Any which way, it put Josh in mind of the picture he had taken all those weeks before, the first time he stalked them, to remind himself of what he hated for. They say that hate is born of love. It was true – Josh had never truly hated before.

He watched close as Ron walked Kim up to her doorstep. They made out again on her doorstep – her folks weren't home. This worried Josh – it was not his plan to take on Ron in the presence of Kim, he knew he couldn't win against the both of them. Or either of them – he had to take Ron by surprise. He sighed in relief when they said their goodnights and Ron began to walk to his own home, alone.

He didn't wait long to rush Ron. The psychotic Josh, tackling Ron to the ground, didn't care to keep himself a secret from him. He pinned Ron immobile to the ground, and spat on his side-turned face. Holding the short blade to his neck, he began his rant. "I saw you," he growled, "I know. Huh. Did you think you were going to keep it secret from me forever?"

All Ron could do, overpowered by the ball of rage behind him, was plead in his mind. 'Please come outside, Kim, save me from this psycho!'

"Friends. What a concept! Never what they seem. They raped me, they did. Some friends. And now you and Possible rape my heart. Bastards. Fuckers! Just like those bottom-feeders that made me the loser I was. The loser I am again."

Ron could hear that Josh was sobbing. What was worse, he understood the truth in every word Josh said. It frightened him. Not as much as when Mankey turned him over, though. The rage in his eyes….

"Now, you pay! Joshua Mankey shall never be fucked with again!" and he pressed the knife into Ron's neck, slashing slightly.

Ron, assuming Josh meant to slit his throat, managed to persuade control over his legs, and kicked Mankey away. He got up, and wiped the blood from his neck. "Come finish it," he growled, standing to face Mankey.

Mankey began to laugh maniacally. "I already have," he smirked, "I have done what I intended to do!"

Ron's eyes widened in terror as Mankey laughed louder. "KIM!!!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.

The redhead came bolting out her front door at the same instant as the scream, and saw the scene on the street she ran over to Ron, her own eyes wide. "What is it?!" she asked, confused.

Behind her, Josh replied for Ron. "He is dying, Kimberly. Poisoned. There is nothing you can do about it. You used me. Now, you pay for it. They'll never fuck with me, again. 'That Josh Mankey,' they'll say, 'He is not one to be fucked with.'" With that, he held the knife to his heart. "Goodbye, Kimberly," he said.

"Oh, no you don't!" the redhead yelled. Lightning fast, she decked him there and then. The knife never pierced his skin. "You don't get to die your way out. You never get to die your way out." She pocketed the knife, making sure to hardly touch it. It was vital evidence.

Behind her, Ron groaned. "Kim…," he started, and she knew immediately it was bad.

"No, don't move, don't speak," she commanded. She picked him up in her arms, and carried her to her parent's lounge.

She laid Ron down gently on his favourite couch and kissed his forehead. "It's going to be OK," she soothed, "Wade will sort you out." Before going back outside, she scraped some of the blood from the wound on his neck and placed it on the Kimmunicator's scanner.

When Wade finally woke up and answered her call, she spoke with haste. "I'm sending you a blood sample scan from Ron. Tell me what's wrong with him and how to fix it."

"Wha–"started the boy, but the look on Kim's face made him replay and understand the spoken words faster than most people could go through the required mental processes to breathe. "Right on it," he said hastily.

Immediately, Kim had the emergency services line up. "I need police and ambulance. Possible residence. Pronto!"

All the operator could say was "Yes, ma'am," before she has closed the line. The woman at the desk understood enough to honour the request immediately, highest priority. Unfortunately, it was a heavy night.

As Kim got back to Josh, he was showing signs of coming to. She hit him across the face again, and carried him also back to the lounge. She bound him to a chair before going to the kitchen to get Ron a glass of water. While she was in the kitchen, Wade got back to her.

"I'm afraid I haven't got good news, Kim," he said.

"What's wrong with him?" ask Kim, eager to get to the point.

Wade knew better than to stall her. "He's afflicted with a non-transferable bloodstream poison. A relatively potent mix."

"How do I fix it?"

Wade paused uneasily before answering this one. "I'm sorry. There's no antidote. Better to knife him before it gets to painful."

"Damn it, Wade! Do better than that!" she selected an appropriate tool from her pack, anyway.

"Again, I'm sorry. I can't. This particular poison I've been working on for months, and I can't find an antidote."

Kim had feared this. Josh wasn't stupid. "How long?"

Wade flinched. "With Ron's metabolism, —"

"How long?!"

"Twenty minutes."

Kim sighed. "You said it's non-transferable?"

"Except by direct blood transfusion."

"Thanks, Wade," Kim surrendered, sorrowfully. She closed her eyes and inhaled. She knew what she had to do.

She gave the glass to Ron, who immediately drank deeply from it, before she walked over to Josh and smacking his forehead hard again – just to be sure, and bound him tighter to the chair, which she then turned around so he was facing aways from Ron.

"How long till I'm better from this miracle cure?" asked the freckled boy, with forced enthusiasm.

Kim looked at Ron's face sadly. "You know as well as I do," she answered. She looked deep into his puppy dog eyes and kissed him on the mouth, just licking his lips as she did so.

"So, this is it?" Ron continued.

"Please stop talking about it," the redhead pleaded. "There's a few last things. We haven't got much time." She presented her hands.

Nothing could have prevented Ron from knowing what to do. He removed the ring from her right hand, and, discarding the cloth film, replaced it on her left in its shining brilliance.Then he presented his own hands.

Kim did the same with his cheap ring. 'Just for now,' she told herself, 'there'll be time to get him a real one later. Then she looked deep into his eyes. "Do you?" she asked.

"You know I do," replied Ron. "Do you?"

Kim smiled through tears. "Of course I do." Then she leaned in, and kissed him.

But she went further. She had to. She needed something breathing to honour Ron's memory with when he passed. Slowly, she disrobed herself completely, still kissing Ron. She massaged against his body, and removed what of his clothing she could. He didn't resist. Finally, she entered him into herself.

After it had been finished, Kim redressed the both of them, and rested Ron's head on her lap. "We'll always be together, my love," she said sadly, a torrent of tears running down her face.

"I know," replied Ron. "I love you, KP."

"I love you, too, Ron," she replied as he closed his eyes.

She began to close her own eyes, but was interrupted by Ron coughing up blood. He groaned. The redhead could see in his eyes the pain. She removed the tool she'd selected before from her pocket, and held the tip against his heart.

"I'll always love you," she said, her eyes so teared up that she could hardly see his eyes. "Promise me you'll always be with me."

All Ron could do was smile his goofy smile, and nod very weakly. He sighed as Kim, her heart the heaviest it had ever been, or ever would be, ended it for him. She gathered him up in her arms. As she did so, she could have sworn she heard his voice all around her. 'Always by your side; Even beyond the end.'

Several minutes passed before she let his lifeless form go. Still no police, no ambulance. Not that the ambulance would ever matter. He was beyond human reach now.

Standing up, she carefully arranged his body on the couch so that were he alive, he would be comfortable. Then she walked up to her room. She changed her clothes to an entirely black outfit — A modestly laced dress, black shoes, black gloves. She contemplated a hat, but decided it was silly. She had opted for boots over heels as well – she had to keep her own style, for Ron.

She walked back down the stairs, and kissed Ron's forehead before walking out of the house and sitting on the front step. She stared at the ring on her left hand, while twirling her knife in the right.

It was like this that her mother found her, stepping out of her husband's car. She sat next to her daughter on the step, and asked no questions, just hugged her. She didn't know exactly what was wrong, but it was important she was there. "We came as soon as the police called us," as Kim's father entered the house. The twins had been left with Nana.

Dad Possible didn't raise any tone in his voice, simply asked "What happened here?" when he returned outside.

"Josh killed him, I had to end his life." Kim threw the knife at a tree. It hit the trunk point first and sank in up to the hilt. "End his pain. Begin my own." She held up her left hand, and looked again at the ring. It drew the attention of her parents, too. Now they knew, but they didn't say a thing. "Ron…." Kim's voice cracked. Still no police, no ambulance.

Finally, a pair of police cars arrived. Kim's mother was still hugging her, and her father stood behind, a hand on his wife's shoulder. Only one of the pairs of policemen came up to the house. They're weren't sure what to expect. It was 2 hours after their call had been received – there just hadn't been the time.

"I saw an ambulance on its side on the way here … Did they send another?" asked one officer.

Mom Possible opened her mouth to reply, but Kim got there first. "Wouldn't have mattered anyway," she sulked.

Instant recognition appeared on the officer's face. "Stoppable!" he gasped, and ran inside.

His partner was more restrained. "What happened here?" he asked.

Kim broke down into tears again….


Kim handled the funeral better than expected. Even better than she expected. Her fiancée, self-ministered husband, best friend for life, was dead, and that's not something you're expected to spend several years in therapy for, at the least. Everyone was there. All the Stoppables (about 30 of them. A Jewish extended family is, after all, family), all the Possibles. The whole school. Most of the people they'd helped over the years were there. Many of the people they'd fought were there also, under police guard — Even the oh-so-tough Shego was crying. Josh Mankey was there too, in a straight jacket, gagged and muzzled. He didn't try to resist much, though. He knew it was useless.

Kim's hardest moment during the service was seeing Ron lying in state. And the silver ring he'd never see, binding him to her. She nearly broke down, but caught herself so that she merely sobbed.

It was after the funeral that she became hard to reach. She knelt at his grave for hours, just crying. People came to her side and left, to be replaced by others. She was left alone when she told she wanted to be. Sunrise the next day had come and gone before she finally stood up, although the Stoppables refused to start the wake without her. It would be wrong.

"Even beyond the end…." she said to herself as she walked away, leaning on her mother. "I hope that's enough." A realisation dawned on her as she looked down at herself, where his last contribution to the world world soon make its presence known – he would be there, he would keep her strong; And his child would be strong. She smiled for the first time since it happened.


Josh stared into the eyes of the woman standing on the other side of the counter. She was still beautiful. Of course, she had aged much, but there was nothing that could change her beauty. The shape of her face, her shining eyes – once fiery, now sad, but still burning bright. The wrinkles on her face she carried well, and the single lock of silver hair on her head complemented the now dark brown-red colour it was. Kim Possible was here was her annual visit. The 77th one, he'd kept count. It had certainly been a long time since that day. Her twin sons had stopped coming with her after they'd started their own families, and though they had only bothered him the first few times she brought them, he was glad they didn't feel they needed to come here any more.

There was no protective glass between them, and though the centre's security guards kept a close eye on them, there was no need. He had long come to terms with himself, and Kim just was not the violent type. Both had run out of words, out of insults, out of argument many years ago, and now they just stood, watching each other, and they understood.

Eventually, Kim broke the 10 year silence. It had been longer since there'd been much tension though. "The pain never leaves," she said, "does it for you?"

"One pain, yes." Josh replied "The other, stronger every year. I can't forgive myself. I'm so sorry for what I did."

"You know how it is, you have to forgive yourself first. My own actions that started you on your path are unforgivable too. I can only be sorry for them. I think I came to terms with how horrible I was." Both had lowered their eyes to the floor by now. By speaking, Kim had made thing substantially more difficult for both of them.

Josh raised his eyes. "You– you're apologising to me?"

Kim looked up too, and looked him in the eye again. "I have to. I was an ass. A stupid one too. It was all my fault that this happened. If we'd just been honest with everyone from the start, he'd still be alive."

Josh tried to give a comforting smile. "Not all your fault," he said, "I didn't have to do what I did. I could have dealt with it properly. Let my anger turn back to sorrow and just tell you that I knew, and what never was, was over. But if that's the way you feel, I forgive you."

Kim's eyes softened and she smiled at him. What he had just said had shattered wall in her heart. She put a hand on his shoulder, which made the guards uneasy, but she ignored them. "Thank you. It's a start."


End

Phew, that was longer than I was expecting. What can I say? Please don't kill me. If anyone wants me, I'll be in my nuclear-fortified bunker on Pluto….

Please Review! It helps me to be a better arsehole, I mean writer.

"Apparently my English is better when I'm drunk than when I'm tired."