Disclaimer: "Kim Possible"…it's alive. Alive! (But what was the deal with Wade in "The Cupid Effect"? Seriously. Could he have been more of a manipulative little gremlin?)

There are some things you just don't forget.

James and I had been dating for quite some time. It was our…third date, if I remember correctly. I was in my building ready to go to my apartment to get ready when I saw a package near the mail slots. It was addressed to one 'Anne Destructible'. It was from my mother. After my first date, I couldn't wait to tell Mom all about this new man in my life.

I hurried up three flights of stairs - hey, a girl's got to stay in shape - and went to my apartment. I opened the package. Out fell a garment bag and a note. I expressed puzzlement at the latter and read it:


Something very special for you. If this guy is as incredible as you say he is, he'll be very impressed.

Love always,


I opened the garment bag and pulled it out: a slinky black dress. The same one my mother wore when she went out with Daddy on their second date. Scoop neck, cut at mid-thigh…this was that dress, all right.

I shrugged and decided to try it on. It might need a few alterations, but the sentiment is nice…

Wow. It's like this dress was made for me. It's hugging curves I didn't even know I had. Mother does know best.

It felt so good, I didn't want to take it off, but I had to shower first.


Two hours later, I heard a knock at the door. That must've been James. I glanced through the peephole. It was him.

I opened the door.

"Hello, Anne. I…" One eye started to twitch, while the other popped wide open. There are some things you just don't forget.

"Oh, you brought me flowers. How sweet." I manage to pry them from his hand and put them in a vase.

I turned back around. He was still at the door. Oh, I had hoped something didn't burn out when he saw me. I'd hate to lose such a great guy.

I hooked my arm with his and patted his hand. "Shall we?"

He shook his head, apparently returning to consciousness. "Oh, yes. Yes, of course."

I closed the door of my apartment behind us and we walked to the elevator.

He cleared his breath in a somewhat obvious attempt to pretend that I had no effect on him.

"Um, by the way…you look really nice in that dress."

"Oh, James."


That was a good two decades ago. It's not like the spice is going out of the relationship or anything like that. That memory just comes back to me, from time to time.

The legend lives on, though. Kimmie…

I remember when she and Ron went to the Middleton Days Festival. I guess she had noticed the dress I kept in my closet…way in the back…wrapped in a dry cleaner's bag. Now that I think of it, that does inspire a fair amount of curiosity.

Anyway, she found it and practically begged me to let her wear it. After much pleading and her use of the Puppy Dog Pout, I caved. I regret ever teaching her that. I worked on that dress up until the night of. I knew her measurements just as Mom knew mine.

I finished with an hour left. I was so busy, it never dawned on me to ask Kim to try the dress on; to see if anything needed to be adjusted. Somehow, though, I just knew that everything would be perfect.

Ron arrived at the house. James and I read him the riot act. It may have been a little wordy and not as thought-out as we would've liked, but it was necessary to ensure the safety of our daughter. Then again, it's Ron. He'd put her well-being above his own any day of the week.

Then Kim came out. The dress fit perfectly. Maybe a little too perfectly; it was like a Tex Avery cartoon and Ron, for a glimmer of a second, became the Wolf. Surprising that James wouldn't have a stronger reaction to seeing his daughter in the same dress that gave him a conniption way back when. Perhaps, it's become a repressed memory.

Although…I can't help but wonder…


I rush up to Kim's room and open her closet. There it is, in the same dry cleaning bag I kept it in when she discovered it.

I hold it up to my body. Nah. I mean, sure I've been keeping fit all these years, but there's no conceivable way that…

Oh, what the hell? I slip it on, shimmying so as not to rip it. Kim might end up bequeathing it to her daughter, someday.

I cannot believe it.


I look in the mirror on the wall. I'm not sure if I've been on the same diet as Kim or if this thing is magic, but…I feel like I'm 21, again.

I take a breath. I wonder when James will be home.


An hour has passed. I lie on the couch. I hear the keys in the door. That's him. I just know it.

"Honey, I'm home." I hear the door slam.

"In here, James."

"Hard day at the space center. I jus--"

He drops his briefcase. I hear sputtering from his lips. His eyes seem to cross. It's just like our third date.

I get up from the couch and kiss him on the lips. I sit him down and ruffle his hair a little. Oh, what I want to do to you.

I hear the door again. My eyes widen. The kids shouldn't be here; not now.

"Mom! We're home." Jim and Tim. Them, I certainly wasn't expecting.

I rush out of the living room, grabbing a robe along the way.

"Mom?" They sound worried. I walk back, completely calm.

"Oh, boys. It's good to see you."

"What's wrong…"

"…with Dad?"

"Oh. Just a rough day at work today. He'll be fine…though I would suggest that he stay away from spicy foods."

"Okay", they chorus as they head upstairs.

Recapturing the magic is a dangerous thing, but sometimes it's worth the risk.

Also, that crack about the spicy foods wasn't just some clever aside. On that third date, James was so distracted by my dress, he inadvertently ordered it, and that night, when he walked me back to my apartment…

There are some things you just don't forget, but that smell should definitely be an exception.


A/N: We all know of the Little Black Dress from "Emotion Sickness", but how did it get there? It sure didn't appear out of thin air. I think this is a pretty good explanation.

Also, I hope that Bubbahotek isn't too miffed about me borrowing Mrs. Dr. Possible's maiden name from his fantastic (and, hopefully, soon-to-be-updated) story, "The Right One".

Thanks for reviewing and have a nice day.