Hottie's Home: Chapter 8
"C'mon, girlfriend, enough with the moans." Monique frowned at her friend. "We need to decide what you're going to wear when Ron comes over."
A muffled response came from the red head buried in the pillow.
"What? Kim, if I'm going to understand, you have to take the feathers out of your face."
Kim raised her head, her face working like a baby denied it's bottle. "Ron's not coming over," She wailed, "Daddy sent him into space." She collapsed back into her pillow.
Monique's hands came up to rub her temples. Fun was fun, but this was getting out of hand. "Listen, baby girl, I know your dad is tops in the rocket biz, but the last I heard nobody knew how to build a rocket that could reach a black hole, right?" She leaned over and pulled Kim's head up by the hair. "Right?"
Tear washed eyes looked at her. "But...but...Daddy probably sent him to keep Frederick company."
"Well, that's not so bad. He'll be back in six months." Monique tried to reassure her friend. The wail that erupted almost deafened her. She immediately pushed the red head back into the pillow. Not much help, maybe, but at least her ears didn't hurt anymore. Shaking her head, she stood to examine Kim's closet. She stared for a moment, then shoved the hanging clothes aside, looking into the shelves in the back. She knelt and opened a few boxed on the floor before finally standing up, shaking her head in disgust. "Girlfriend, you are pathetic." She marched over to the bed, stopping with her hands on her hip. "Kim, where are your clothes?" She asked. The only answer was muffled sniffles.
"Ok, time to get tough." Monique mumbled to herself. "Okay, Kim, just send Ron running back to Miss ninja knockers and her cold feet."
Kim's head lifted. "W-what?"
"When Ron gets here and sees you all puffy eyed and messed up, he's going to catch the next plane back to oriental hotness."
Kim's eyes widened. "He, he wouldn't."
Monique raised one eyebrow.
A fire began to burn in Kim's swollen eyes. "He better not."
Monique nodded toward Kim's mirror. Kim slouched over and stared at her reflection. "Oh my gosh, he can't see me like this!"
"That's more like it." Monique applauded. "Now, where are your clothes."
Kim turned with a puzzled stare. "You can see my closet, Mo', right there."
"That's it? No hot little numbers hidden somewhere?"
"What's wrong with my clothes?" Kim demanded.
"Nothing, for saving the world. But tonight you're not saving the world, you're going to be rockin' someone's world."
"All right, girls, supper time." Anne knocked on the hatch door.
"Be right there, Mrs. Possible." Monique answered.
Returning to her kitchen, Anne was putting the finishing touches on the meal when she heard the footsteps behind her. Turning she looked a question. "Where's Kimmie."
"Oh, she'll be right down, Mrs. Possible." Monique grinned. "She's just putting the finishing touches on her ensemble."
Mrs. Possible grinned. "She's dressing up for a family dinner? My, my. Or has she decide a certain someone isn't breathing through a hose?"
Monique laughed. "She's still about half way convinced that Ron is flying with a certain monkey, but just in case..."
Anne leaned over confidentially, "Would you care to bet which he notices first, my meatloaf or Kimmie's outfit."
Giving the matter some serious thought, Monique finally shook her head, "Nope, no bet. That boy is an appetite on legs. I helped her get fancied up more for her than him, if you get what I mean."
Anne smiled in understanding. "Ron is a growing young man. Would you go out in the back yard and tell the boys that dinner's ready, please?"
"Sure thing, Mrs. Possible." Monique opened the back door, strolling out into the yard. She didn't see the male Possibles, but she heard some what sounded like voices from around the corner of the house. She turned the corner to hear clearly, "...One...Rockets are go!" A suddenly hyper active sense of self preservation turned her without thought to get under cover.
Monique winced as the dull roar began behind her. "They wouldn't. Please, somebody tell me they wouldn't." She glanced over her shoulder fearfully, just in time to see the rocket reverse course, heading straight for her.
Kim twisted in front of her mirror. The second skin jeans she outgrew last year, the peasant blouse with just a hint of décolletage, the subdued make up Monique had helped her with. "Oh, yeah, this will work." She giggled slightly. "I hope when Daddy sees Ron's reaction, he doesn't rethink the space shot. At least, I hope Ron's reaction is that major." She continued to inspect herself, waiting as Monique had suggested for the proper moment to descend and "rock Ron's world." Finally satisfied, Kim walked over to her window. If she was lucky, she might see Ron before he arrived, letting her time her entrance more perfectly. Her welcoming smile disappeared when a dark haired form raced around the corner of the house, leaped on Ron in a welcoming grasp of such strength, both fell to the grass. Kim managed to close her mouth, silently congratulating herself. "I'm in control. I am not jellin'. I am in control. I'm going to walk calmly down the stairs, outside, and then I'll beat her, and him, to a pulp." Turning from the window, she missed the fiery cylinder that just missed the two flattened teens.
Monique's head snapped up, her eyes glaring at the blond head that popped out from between her natural accouterments. "Ron Stoppable! What do you think you're doing?"
"Mmmmm, warm..." A wide smile and unfocused eyes answered her.
"Would he even feel it if I went Pain King on him?" A part of Monique's mind smirked in self satisfaction. "The girl and the 'girls' got it goin' on, yes!" She sat up, her firm bottom resting in Ron's lap. His smile grew wider, while his eyes crossed.
"Ron," Monique began.
"Monique?" A feminine growl came from behind her.