Sticks and Stones... And Maybe Fists

A Kim Possible Fiction

Author's Notes: Man... This is getting crazy. I was supposed to be completely done the first day, and all the subsequent ideas I'd had for it, by the third chapter, maximum. I've finally set the end up, so you don't have to worry about one never-ending day of hell anymore. I actually had the whole thing written out, but I was on page sixteen when I realized that it was too much, so I've gone and split it in half. Chapter Six should be up in the next couple of days – no, I won't be taking another three bloody weeks on that one. I've gotten all my job troubles straightened out, so hopefully my update schedule doesn't get any more stretched out than it already is. Chapter five should have been up like ten days ago, but after dealing with all the crap lately I was just burned out come the end of last week. And so, instead of working for you guys' benefit, I've spent the last seven days putting together the framework for a Mech Warrior storyline and catching up-to-date on fourteen different web comics, twenty-nine fanfics, and seeing Batman Begins twice. If BB is a portent of things to come, this year looks to be golden movie-wise anyway, eh?

As always, I hope you continue to enjoy the fruits of my labor (And what a labor it is... The creative process is much more difficult than the great authors of would lead one to believe, cranking out masterwork chapters every work week). Read it, review it if you've got a spare forty seconds kicking around, and then if you're still here, I'd recommend reading some of the works in my favorites section, my personal opinion of the cream of the fan fiction crop. Also, special thanks to G-Go – His advice should help stop me from needlessly complicating the language... There is such a thing as being to verbose. Well, finally, here it is. Hopefully I haven't lost my entire readership from all my screwing about, eh? Chapter five of Seven: Sticks and Stones... And Maybe Fists – enjoy.

Amazing as most who knew him might find it, Ron really did take Felix's advice to give Kim some time to cool down to heart. In retrospect, Felix almost regretted opening his mouth, because it meant that Ron spent the entire lunch period agonizing at their table, but Felix was a better man than that, so he and Monique stoically bore their punishment in silence. He glanced over from where Ron sat morosely picking at his plate to Monique, whose expression was a peculiar mix of sympathy and self-pity. They exchanged a glance, Monique giving him a pointed look and he cleared his throat. "Ah, Ron man, chill dude. You know Kim, she can get... emotional... about things. You guys have next period together, right?" He received a short nod in reply. "There you go man, no worries. She's had almost an hour to chill out, and so have you, so just go talk to her."

Ron looked up, finally, and gave Felix a hopeful stare. "Yeah? Yeah, you're right dude. I mean, she knows I don't like Mankey anyway, so we can just blow this off on nerves." His face lit up and he smiled. "Hey, thanks guys. I'll catch you later... Gotta go talk to KP." He jumped up and practically raced from the cafeteria, heading for the science wing.

Monique turned away from the retreating form of one friend and fixed the other with a level glance. "Boy, you know as well as I do that Kim Possible is a wildfire. She isn't going to be cool, calm, or collected after stalking out of here for a couple of minutes."

Felix just looked up and shrugged. "What can I say; I couldn't take any more Stoppable angst..." He grinned, "And besides, at least Ron knows how to deal with Possible... He's better off then we are." Monique just shook her head and made a small noise of distaste.

Ron slipped through the halls toward the science hall, his bag swinging haphazardly from one shoulder. For perhaps the first time ever, Ron Stoppable was actually looking forward to Chemistry class. The realization of this almost cold-cocked him, and he shuddered violently. For Kim, I'm doing it for Kim. Just... Gotta concentrate on doing it for Kim. A tiny slip of a grin split his features for a second as he strode down the hall. I just hope she realizes the sacrifice I'm making for her. He shook his head and just worried about making it to class without any other unfortunate mishaps to add to today's tally. A short two minutes later he arrived at the classroom, none the worse for wear, and slipped into his normal seat – fourth desk, third row, right behind Kim's. He glanced up at the clock mounted above the blackboard and got an even bigger shock. Here he was, Ron Stoppable, one of the most liberal-minded entities concerning school you'll ever see, sitting down in chemistry class, and he was early. Ron sighed through another faint grin – he'd never live this one down.

The bell rang, as it is wont to do, and teenage bodies reluctantly began trudging through the door into the classroom. Ron rifled through his own personal Cliff Notes for apologies in his mind as his eyes scanned the stream of students coming through the door for one specific cheerleader. There! Wait, no... No, not her... As the bell ran down and the flood of students began to taper off Ron's eager disposition cracked slightly – worry the replacement as there was still no sign of Kim. Ron looked about the classroom and realized that there was only four empty desks left two on the other side of the room, Kim's, and another one back and one to the left. The class was almost all here, but where was Kim...? He leaned forward, straining to see more of the hallway through the open door. There, just a flash of her book bag swung into the visible space, like she was standing beside the door. Ron's eyebrow shot up and an unvoiced question rose to his lips when Kim stepped full into view. But, wait, there was someone else... Ron's eyes narrowed and he went instantly rigid as he saw Kim hanging off the arm of Josh Mankey. He clenched his teeth, but forced himself to calm down. Remember, I'm here to make up with Kim... Don't blow this, Stoppable.

Kim squeezed Josh's arm tighter as they stood outside the classroom, not wanting to part from him. He smiled and looked down into her eyes. "Well, I guess this is it, huh?"

She nodded and reluctantly disengaged her arms from his. "Yeah, Chem. class, just how I want to spend my afternoon."

He chuckled, "I can bet." He glanced inside and saw Ron looking at them. Kim saw it too, and her expression darkened slightly. Josh looked down at her again and raised an eyebrow. "Everything alright with you and Ron?"

She sighed and rubbed her wrist. "Ron's just being an immature jerk right now... I don't know what his problem is, and I don't really want him dumping on me because of it so he can just deal." She forced herself to brighten and flashed him a dazzling smile. "Anyway, I'll see you later, 'kay?" Josh grinned at her and nodded, waving slightly as she ducked into the classroom and he started down the hall.

She walked up her row to her seat just in front of Ron, and saw him open his mouth to lobby some sort of greeting. The glare she pitted him with froze him straight in mid syllable – an insect pinned against the wall. To say she gave him the cold shoulder as she dropped her bag and slid into her seat is misleading. It implies that she acknowledged, at least somewhere in the very depths of her soul, that he existed and was worth the time to notice. What Ron got was an iron curtain, the metaphorical equivalent of his initial run-in earlier with Barkin. His jaw snapped shut with an audible click as he ground his molars ruthlessly. His dentist, he noted in passing, was going to kill him at his next checkup at this rate.

What the hell was this? What did he do? Kim was the one blowing things all out of proportion, and she has the nerve to give him the cold shoulder! Ron scowled into the laminate of his desk, undecided as to whether to be hurt or angry. Kim didn't so much as twitch in his direction, pointedly ignoring him. Hurt won the toss up for the moment, and Ron glared into his desk.

Time passed, and Ron's continual attempts at voicing an apology, or even getting an acknowledgement out of Kim were met with icy silence. After the fifth attempt, he gave up, the hurt in him finally transforming into anger at this ice queen treatment. If Kim wanted to be a total bitch, Ron would certainly oblige her. The class ended, neither of the pair having gleaned much out of it, and they stormed out, each heading down opposite halls. Kim stalked her way off to Applied Mathematics while Ron stormed away to Home Economics.

Thankfully – for both their sakes – the final hour of classes passed without any major incidents, and the two teens went on to their separate obligations. Ron trudged down to D-Hall, slipping past the knots of predators that frequented the hall to hit detention with Barkin, and Kim went straight to the locker room to get ready for practice.

Ron shoved the door open and stalked over to his seat, grumbling and muttering under his breath. Mr. Barkin leaned forward in his chair and gave him a sharp look. "Sit down and be quiet, Stoppable. This is detention, not some free period social hall. If you don't want to be here, maybe you shouldn't be late for my classes." Ron scowled, an expression that seemed to have taken up permanent residence on his face. Yeah, I was late, but only because I was helping Kim out. Obviously, having an extra hour to stew in his frustrations wasn't going to do Ron's disposition any good. He sighed and pulled out his math textbook. If he was stuck here, he might as well try and get some homework finished.

Kim reached down and pulled the purple skirt up, setting it securely against her hips as she zipped up the side. She pulled her Pom-Poms from her locker, tossed her clothes inside and locked it back up. The cool metal of the back of lockers met her forehead as she leaned into them, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath to prepare herself for practice. It wasn't going to be pleasant, not with her being as agitated as she already was. She turned around and leaned back into the lockers, taking another few deep, calming breaths. Remember Kim, you're still captain. Who cares what Bonnie says? She's just jealous about being second best. She gained some small measure of control over her emotions, enough so that she wouldn't fly into a frenzy at the very sight of her rival, at least, and resolutely headed for the gym.

Forty-five seconds later, however, as she pushed open the double doors leading to the interior Kim knew that maintaining her composure was going to be a challenge. Bonnie stood by the bleachers, hands planted arrogantly on her hips as she glared towards the doors where Kim stood. "Cha, we have a starting time for a reason, K. Maybe the captain should be somebody who can be here, like, on time." Kim's grip tightened around her Pom-Poms as leveled a glare at Bonnie. The old saying, "If looks could kill" was definitely in effect here.

"Shut it, Bonnie. I'm in no mood to deal with you anymore." Kim turned to the rest of the squad sitting on the bleachers. Bonnie shot her a dark look and huffed, but Kim took no notice. "Alright girls, let's continue with yesterday's routine. The game is next Wednesday, so we need to get this down." The team quickly dispersed onto the floor and began tumbling, flipping, and running to the music coming from the stereo.

They worked hard for the next hour and the routine came along nicely. Kim helped Tara tighten up her tumbling number, and solidified the pyramid finale. Bonnie... Well, Bonnie was Bonnie. She harped, she heckled, she criticized, but she did get her routine down. Of course, that fact did little to allay Kim's anger at every snide comment, every biting remark, and so she was still royally pissed off when they called it quits at ten to five. She stormed off to the locker room with only a few terse words, much to Bon-Bon's glee.

Leaning on one arm braced against the lockers, Kim fumed in the few precious minutes of solitude she had before the rest of the team shambled in. She pulled off her top and tossed it in her along with the Pom-Poms and her shoes. She pulled out her shirt and held it in her hand, rubbing her thumb across the pink heart emblazoned in the center. Her eyes narrowed and she tossed the shirt back in the locker and came out with a black sports bra and a pair of track pants, which she quickly swapped out for the rest of her uniform. Her parents definitely wouldn't appreciate her stomping through the house as worked up as she was now, and Kim really wasn't up for that long walk home in silence anyway. Closing the locker again, she brushed past the first few girls at the door and headed out to the fitness room down the hall.

Had he observed himself after he left D-Hall, Ron would never be able to tell you why he chose to amble around the school instead of head straight home. Perhaps he was anxious about going home, maybe he didn't want to hear his parents ask about Kim, but looking back on it, he'd have two views on walking down past the fitness room that afternoon. On one hand, his afternoon took a definite turn for the better, but on the other hand, waking up the next morning would bring an all new definition of hell. But he did, and it did, and it would, on all three counts.

The muted thump of fists on canvas reached his ears from the open door down the hall, punctuated by the odd mutter of a very familiar voice. A few more feet and the sounds were clearer, the curses and grumblings belonging to a one-time talent show runner-up and American Star Maker sensation. It would appear that Kim hadn't wanted to go home, either. Ron sighed and continued towards the open door. An hour in detention had given him the time to realize that their fight was pointless, and he wasn't about to have Kim angry at him for the rest of the week because he was too uppity to swallow his pride and apologize. He swallowed a large helping of crow and walked off to the door to set things right with his best friend.

A fist wrapped securely with white fighting tape smashed into the heavy canvas punching bag tied up to the ceiling. A shin quickly followed into the side, and then another pair of fists in succession. "Bonnie." A twist of movement and a heel slammed into the opposite side of the bag. An elbow followed, and then another whirl and three quick fist strikes. "Ron." An open fisted palm strike and a forearm smash rocked the bag backwards and the nylon ropes creaked in protest. A grunt of exertion punctuated a knee as it crashed into the side of the bag twice. "What is wrong with them?" Another one-two combination savaged the canvas. "I'm always getting Ron out of trouble, but can he possibly be happy for me when Josh takes some interest? Of course not! He's so self-centered, always thinking about himself." Jabs and kicks, elbows and smashes broke her words up as Kim worked over the bag. "What a jerk!" She rammed a fist into the center of the bag at that comment, swinging it way back on the ropes.

She stood there panting as the bag swung back and forth, and it was because she took a breather that she heard the angry snort sound from behind her. Emerald eyes flashes as she spun around and saw Ron leaning against the doorframe, his face dark and frustrated. "Now what's your damage?" His eyes narrowed and he stalked over, tossing his backpack to the side.

"Well, I was coming to see if you'd come to your senses, but obviously that isn't going to happen any time soon."

Her eyes flared and she drew herself up indignantly. "Come to my senses! What the hell is wrong with you? You're the one who can't be happy that somebody's taken an interest in me."

Ron sneered. "Oh, right. The fancy pants artsy pretty boy. Like that's totally for real. Kim, he's just sniffing around because you're famous, and you know it."

"How dare you say that? How dare you! Josh is kind and sweet and caring. He wouldn't insult you to your girlfriend – if you could get one, that is."

That hurt, and she saw it in his eyes. "Sticks and stones, Kim. But I've got to say, that's pretty shallow. Bonnie shallow. I thought you were better than that, but obviously I was mistaken."

Her hand rocketed up, almost of its own volition and connected with the left side of his face, the crack of flesh on flesh echoing around the room. Ron's eyes snapped open as his head turned to the side, and a hand reached up to tentatively brush the red blotch already spreading across his cheek. Rufus peeked out of his pocket and screeched at Kim, hopping up and down indignantly. "So that's how it is, huh? Josh has got you hitting people now, does he?" His eyes were frigid as they bored into hers. "You have a problem that needs fighting, Kim? Fine. We're here already and you're good to go." He took a step back and pulled off his pullover, shoes, and socks, tossing them to the side by his backpack. A hand plucked Rufus from his perch and gently scooted him towards his clothing. "You're probably gonna want to sit this one out, buddy."

Kim was shocked, partly because she'd hit him, partly because he was standing up to her, and partly because she'd liked hitting him. She'd enjoyed it when her slap had jerked his head around and stole his hurtful words away. And then there was this other thing. Ron never stood up to her; he always backed down, acquiescing to her demands, giving in to her arguments. She'd never seen him angry enough, forceful enough to actually challenge her position. It amused her and angered her at the same time, but it also delighted her. He was just asking for trouble now and trouble he'd definitely get. She straightened her shoulders and stalked over to where he waited on the sparring mats.

Well, you've really put your foot in it this time, Stoppable. Come over to apologize and what do you do? You end up in a fist fight with your best friend – a friend, I might add, who know sixteen different styles of Kung-Fu. Way to improve the situation, jackass. Ron would have kicked himself, had he been alone and not about to do battle with the most dangerous teenager in a fifty mile radius. As it was, he just ground his teeth and put his hands up. Time for a bit of the old Ron-Fu magic. Kim shook out her hands as she stood across from him and started bouncing on the balls of her feet. He saw the anger in her eyes, and felt it reciprocated in him. He also saw the precise, sharp movements of her hands and feet, and realized that this wasn't going to be pleasant. Well, he was stuck no matter what he did, so he did what was natural, and his hands started flailing about in his characteristic pre-fight/intimidation/self-assurance fake martial arts kata. Kim didn't find it amusing though, as the snap kick that exploded against the side of his head was testament to. That kick hadn't been sparring strength, either.

Ron squeezed his eyes shut for a second as he caught himself from reeling around. O-kay, Ron, maybe right now isn't the best time for screwing around. He brought his hands back up just in time to duck under a vicious roundhouse. Then he was jumping over a leg sweep as Kim continued her spin. He jumped back from a punch that whistled through the space his chest had just occupied, reeling from one attack to another with no time to catch himself in between. Kim kept up the blistering attack, pushing him back across the mats with a single minded drive. No way would he get any quarter from her, not after what he'd said. She was so focused on her attack, in fact, that she wasn't paying near as much attention to her form as she should have, so when she over-extended when Ron stepped out of the way of a heavy straight punch, she couldn't recover. It was exactly what Ron had been hoping for, and he wasn't one to waste such an opportunity gift-wrapped like that. His arms shot out, palms forward and connected with her chest, flinging her backwards and away from him and giving him room to think.

She skidded back on the balls of her feet, shock evident on her face. Ron had never shown any kind of skill like this on their missions. Then again, he'd never really been in a fight on their missions, either. It was usually his job to go distract the forty or fifty goons that the villains always had lurking around, and that usually involved more running than fighting. Her thoughts were cut short, though, when she ducked under a double roundhouse and caught the follow-up punch combination on her forearms. The reverse straight punch that caught her jaw and snapped her upright really got her attention and made her stand-to though. She backpedaled a few steps to get some breathing room and brought her hands up in a ready position. Maybe this wouldn't be such a one-sided pounding after all. Synapses erupted with electrical impulses as sixteen forms of attack and defense flashed through Kim's mind. A snap kick was brushed aside with one arm as the other picked off the follow-up punch. She was halfway through the countering spin kick before she had even thought her way through the moves, moving on instinct and skills honed by years of life and death situations.

Ron found his advantage quickly dried up as Kim worked through her surprise at Ron's real abilities. So much for the easy route. He caught a side kick with his thigh, but failed to defend against the one-two combination Kim drilled into his chest. A grunt and a grudging step back were all that was gifted as he picked off the next few blows and snapped back with his own combination of fists. Ron found himself falling into a steady rhythm as his limbs once again lapsed into the familiar techniques of Ninjutsu and Tai Shing Pek Quar. Unfortunately, this only added to Kim's ire. Always before she'd been the superior, always the one to take the fight to their enemies, and content and secure in that role. Now she faced the prospect that perhaps she wasn't the only one with martial skills, and, being human, she was just shallow enough to be a little tweaked by that.

Ron had improvisation and the advantage of using combat forms Kim wasn't familiar with, but she had reflex, intuition, and almost six years of experience in her favor. They were a close match, but it was Kim's experience that still put her over the top, as the hard right cross that caught Ron across the jaw and spun him around showed him. So, too, did the heavy foot that planted itself in the small of his back as he was spinning and propelled him across the mat. He stumbled forward, but instead of catching himself and spinning in place he lunged forward into a shoulder roll, putting fifteen feet of breathing space between himself and Kim's lightning jabs.

They circled slowly at the edges of the mat in ready positions, the only sound breaking the silence their heavy breathing. Two set of eyes darted this way and that, scanning, appraising – searching for any weakness to be exploited. Two sets of hands circled around, ready to pick off any attack. Nothing presented itself – yet another point of amazement for Kim, so she decided to create an opportunity. A slight shift of weight, the planting of one foot and suddenly she was racing towards him.

The rush surprised Ron, but only for a moment. He tracked the way her body shifted as she ran at him and noticed that she dropped her weight on her rear foot. A slight smile graced his lips as he tensed his legs. He'd seen this particular move often enough to know when it was bearing down on him. His mind flashed through the series of events like quicksilver, Kim sliding back onto her rear foot, the other sweeping out in front of her to take out his own as she slid into him. His expertly timed leap to pass over her as she slid across the slick mats, and landing just behind her in perfect position for a snap kick or haymaker to her unprotected rear. It was perfect. He lowered himself down farther in preparation for his leap, hands going low just in case. It really would have been the perfect response to one of Kim's favorite moves, except for one small, trivial little detail.

Ron wasn't the only person who knew how to improvise.

As it turned out, Ron couldn't have presented a better target of himself. Right at the point where she was supposed to begin her slide, Kim flexed her legs and flipped into a handspring. She threw herself towards him off her arms, flipping up high and over him as his face flashed from supreme confidence to confusion to realization to dread all in the space between two heartbeats as she passed over his head. Her hands shot out and grabbed double handfuls of his shirt at the shoulders and as she landed back to back with him her legs tensed, her back arched, and she pulled for all she was worth. Ron had nabbed himself a front-row seat to Physics 101. Apply a force (the pull) overcoming inertia around a fulcrum (her anchoring body), release, and you've got trajectory. There was a shredding sound as the elastic fabric of Ron's shirt tore away in Kim's hands and then he was airborne.

Time seemed to freeze for a certain buffoonish sidekick as he left the safe, stable world of the ground and ventured deep into the unknown territory of uncontrolled ballistic flight. Y'know, this is actually kind of nice... I wonder why Wade hasn't looked into flight tech more. He was pondering the possibilities when the rotation of his body oriented him face-down. His eyes doubled in size as the purple sparring mat blasted by mere inches from the tip of his nose. Eh, actually, maybe it's actually better that he doesn't... There wasn't time for anything else as gravity reasserted its hold on him and brought him crashing back down to reality. He skipped off the edge of the mat and tumbled across the unforgiving tile, coming to rest in a tangle on his back. Slightly glazed eyes bore into the dirt-speckled ceiling as Ron lay there for a solid five seconds without so much as a twitch. A single, explosive breath burst from his chest in a sort of coughing bark as he resumed breathing. Ow. He straightened his limbs out and made sure everything that was supposed to be attached was, then screwed his mouth shut, clamped down on the aches spreading through his body, lifted his legs up and kipped back onto his feet.

The battered and abused teen straightened up slowly, trying to work the kinks out of his arms and legs as he did so. He turned to Kim and dropped into a ready position. "Nice toss." She was thrown by the offhand, casual way he said it, and so was a fraction too slow in reacting when he exploded into a rush at her. With a frantic jerk of her head the powerful straight punch caught nothing but air over her shoulder, but unfortunately the knee that slammed into her stomach simultaneously to the first attack was just as troublesome. Her breath wheezed out as her knees sagged slightly, and Ron's elbow slipped through hers and he rotated in place and tossed her over his hip. Kim's cheerleading experience came in handy as she rolled with the throw, turning it into a roll instead of slamming down onto the mats. She broke his grip on her and the combat devolved into a vicious melee. The gloves had definitely come off, and both teens ramped up the intensity of their attacks.

Ron found himself once again outclassed by Kim's fighting experience. He had technique and form, but there were dozens of little in-fighting tricks that Kim had picked up over the years, and she wasn't shy about employing them. Slowly but steadily he was forced back across the mats, weaving and dodging and parrying for all he was worth. He backed up enough that suddenly there was tile on the soles of his feet. There wasn't really any time to worry about trivialities like that though as Kim stepped up her game again, pushing him back faster. He searched desperately for an escape, something to get him back in control, but there was nothing in reach. He stalled her for a second with a pair of combination snap kicks, but only for just that, a second and then Kim was all over him. He parried a pair of quick edge blows only to catch a foot in the sternum, shoving him back another few steps. He saw the double roundhouse coming even as she set up for it, but off balance as he was there was no way he'd be able to block with his arms or duck under, so he did the only thing left available to him. His legs tucked in underneath as he rolled backwards under the powerful kicks, only to find himself standing just outside the doorway to the fitness room. Chocolate eyes tracked up the hall reflexively, providing another chink in his armor that Kim's fist was willing to exploit, which it did to the utmost effect – all over the left side of Ron's face. Again he stumbled back, losing more ground – but at least this time it was out into an open hallway. Well, a mostly open hallway, that is.

Though it was after school hours there was still a token handful of students scattered about – students finishing up detentions, students working on extra curricular activities, and even a few who were just hanging out. There were five students currently in the hallway when Kim and Ron burst out of the fitness room, leaning against lockers or talking. All actions ceased, however, as five pairs of eyes locked on the spectacle that was slowly working its way down the hallway.

Kim pushed forward, wanting to bring this match to a close. She hammered a hard right hand into Ron's shoulder only to jerk back at the precise one-two counter punch she received in return. A growl slipped past her lips as she dropped into a leg sweep which was deftly hopped over, and caught a foot against her forearm. She lunged forward to grapple, butting up against his bare chest, but her fingers found no purchase on the sweat-slicked flesh so all she could do was to push him backwards farther down the hall. Backwards, as it turned out, into two of the by standing students watching the fight. They cried out as Ron jostled them, and again when another of Kim's missed blows dented in a locker behind him. The realization that this was no play-fight blossomed simultaneously in five young minds, and then everyone was scrambling to get out of the way.

Ron jumped back from another series of kicks, lashing out with his own feet as he franticly tried to stave off Kim's assault. A missed cross and his head wrenched to the side, a trickle of crimson leaking from the corner of his mouth. Four more successful blocks, and then another fist was buried in his midsection, stunning him and stealing away all his wind. His knees wavered slightly but then straightened up as he caught a backhand in the face. Well, this looks to be about the end of the act, Stoppable. At least you made a good showing... Another few grudging steps were lost to Kim as he staggered back from her hit. He could sense the wall behind him as he caught Kim in the chin with a blistering snap kick, making it her turn to stumble. A right jab was lost over her shoulder, as was the sweep kick he threw at her when she flipped backwards away from him. Her foot tagged his hand as she went over, bringing his rush up short before he'd even taken two steps after her. Ron shook out the wounded appendage, grimacing at the sensation of a wave of pinpricks that rolled up his hand. Kim shot him a predatory look and Ron knew he was in trouble. He flexed his knees and lowered his center of gravity; ready to defend against whatever it was Kim had in mind for a finisher, acutely aware of the fact that only three feet behind him stood the heavy plywood doors leading to the gym. She took two steps and threw herself into the air, one leg stretched out in front of her in classic jump-kick form aimed right at Ron's chest. His eyes widened and his hands shot out, catching her foot and buffering the kick, trying to shunt away the force of the attack. His arms came back towards his chest, bleeding away the force of the kick. Not... Going... To be... Enough... A size seven foot connected to one hundred and eighteen pounds of irate cheerleader smashed into his sternum and suddenly Ron found himself flying again, albeit this time backwards and much more painfully.

The joys of flight were short lived this time around though as he caught the aluminum bar handle on the door in the small of his back, tripping the latch and smashing the door open as he continued through. He was rolling to the side almost before he'd crashed to the polished hardwood, shifting out of the way as Kim came charging through the open portal after him. The roll carried him into a crouch in time to resume his harried defense and the two friend resumed combat. They fought down the line of the bleachers, but the attacks were coming slower all the time as the two best friends came within sight of the limits of their endurance. Kim missed a high sweep kick that caught her in the shoulder and rolled to the right, out towards the middle of the room as Ron pressed his advantage. Now it was Kim's turn to retreat as she ducked, weaved, and parried, her exhausted and aching muscles slowing down counter moves just enough to offset her superior skills. What should have been a snappy reverse punch was two heartbeats too slow coming off her block. The leg sweep that should have taken his legs out from under him was just slightly out of sync. It all amounted to leaving Kim scrambling to match the strange fighting styles of her opponent. She dropped under another punch and moved in to grapple, taking hold of his extended arm and turning to flip him across his back, but he rolled with her throw, landing on his feet just behind her and turning the throw back on her. Kim managed to shift enough of her weight so that she wasn't tossed half-way across the room, and landed on one shaky leg facing him. A quick jab to his already raw abdomen broke the grapple and brought his counter up short. She feinted with a knee and then drove a hard left to his cheek, stunning him. With the few precious seconds of space she'd won herself with the punch, she closed again and latched onto his arm, still trying for the winning toss.

It almost worked, too, as Ron was too busy clearing stars from his vision to shift his weight in time. As his feet left the ground he twisted his left leg and snagged it around Kim's knee, sticking tight against her thigh. Ron went over and Kim went with him with a startled exclamation, thanks to the leg trap. They slammed into the unforgiving floor in a great tangle of arms and legs with Ron turning to take the brunt of the hit on himself and Kim lying mostly on top of him with her back to his chest. Shocked from being pulled over and haggard from fighting at top intensity for so long, Kim was just a bit too slow in rolling off him, and Ron entwined her arms behind her back with his, still having a firm hold on her left leg. They writhed on the floor, each trying to gain leverage on the other, Kim to escape and Ron to keep her stuck. Amid the grunts, he twisted his shoulders slightly, simultaneously wrenching her arms back and depriving her of all her leverage. "You know," He gasped for breath between clenched teeth. "You hit really hard when you're pissed off at someone."

Instantly she stiffened, aborting all attempts to free herself from his grasp. A long moment seconds passed as each sucked in lungful after lungful of air. Then she began to giggle. Her laughter progressed to a deep chuckle, where Ron took the opportunity to join in as the absurdity of the joke settled in on the both of them. They continued to laugh until they were both shaking with mirth. Kim pulled one arm free of his grasp and wiped at a tear that leaked from between closed lids. "You're not such a light-weight yourself." They continued to laugh together for a few moments more before the desire for oxygen got the better of them and they trailed off to silence, still breathing deeply and trying to get their heart rates under control. Kim lay there, simply luxuriating in the simple sensations of rising and falling with the movement of Ron's chest, both of them oblivious to the world for a few moments at least.

And then it was ended, ended by the scuff of one immaculate black dress shoe against the floor. "Stoppable, Possible. Explanation, now!"

Zomg liek, Kayin3 finishdedz0rz! Omgwtfbbq!11!11!oneonewuntoo

Again, I apologize for the delays. Being as it has been three weeks I thought you guy deserved a little extra, so I made this chunk of the chapter twice as long as a normal update. I could go the cop-out route and say that it took so long specifically because it's twice as long, on the sly like, but I'd be lying. In fact, I only really actually started writing this thing three days ago... Did ten pages grins. I hope you liked it, and more specifically, I hope I've gotten a bit better in writing out fisticuffs combat. Cheers, and as I said, chapter six should be up inside a business week.