Thanks to campy for his usual invaluable proofreading services.

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As Kim began to stir, the first thing that pierced her sleep-befogged consciousness was the discomfort in her arm. Then there was the incredible sense of tiredness. She felt as if she'd been drugged. Slowly, she opened her eyes. She looked down the bed at the unfamiliar blanket covering her, then noticed the cluttered rolling table by her side. Then she saw the IV drip in her arm and realized she was in the hospital.

How did I get here? she wondered, but not for long. Quickly, it all came back to her with the force of a runaway locomotive hurtling down the tracks.

The prom.

The after-dance party.

The drinking.

Bobby encouraging her to do things she'd not done before.

Her finally acquiescing, having convinced herself it really wasn't sex after all.

The argument when he wanted to go further and she refused.

The driving home in silence.

They'd clearly had an accident.

Kim looked at her arm, noticing the bruises, realizing she'd been hurt. She briefly wondered if Bobby had been injured, though she realized she didn't care, not after what had happened. The mental images of her dropping to her knees, of Bobby's pants and boxers bunched around his ankles, of ….

The auburn-haired teen grimaced, then closed her eyes, hoping she would quickly fall asleep again and so leave behind her waking nightmare. She knew she'd much rather return to the vivid cartoon world of her dreams. And soon, she did.


When Kim awoke again, it was afternoon. Much to her chagrin, she was still in the hospital; the accident, the events that had led up to it, weren't, as she'd hoped, a nightmare. She sighed, then looked at the rolling table, covered with flowers and cards, then at the bed, on which rested her favorite stuffed animal and a remote control attached to a cable. She picked up the device and pressed a button bearing a red cross. Not long after, as she anticipated, a nurse appeared.

"You're awake. Good," the woman said. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Kim said. "And hungry. Do you think I could get something to eat? And do you think someone could tell me what's going on?"

"Let me get you some lunch," the woman said as she looked from Kim to the monitors. "And I'll have Doctor Patel and your mother stop by."

"Thanks," the teen said, both welcoming and dreading seeing her mother. She knew her parents must have been out of their minds with worry about her, not to mention very, very angry with, and disappointed in, their eldest child.


Kim looked up from her meal to see coated doctors – Patel and her mother – walk into the room.

"Kimmie," her mother said warmly, relief writ large on her face.

"Hey, Mom," the teen replied sheepishly. "Hi, Doctor Patel."

"Hello, Kimberly," the Indian man said. "How are you today?"

"Fine, I guess," she replied. "I'm kind of sore. Am I going to be okay?"

The doctor smiled. "Yes, you are, though you'll need to stay here for another day or two for some more observation." The man looked at Kim's chart, then the monitors, then at Kim's mother. "I think I'll come back in a little bit, Ann."

"Thanks, Vijay," Kim's mother said.

"See you later, Kimberly," he said as he headed for the door.

After Patel left, Kim's mother sat down and took her daughter's hand.

"We were so worried about you," Ann said.

Kim bit her lip as she felt her eyes tear up. "I'm so sorry," she said.

"I know you are," Kim's mother said. "The important thing is that you're okay."

"Yeah, I guess so," Kim said. "I so wish last night didn't happen."

Kim saw the flicker of pain on her mother's face. "What?" she asked her mother.

"It wasn't last night," Ann said. "You've been out for most of the last two days."

Kim's eyes opened wide. "I've been here for two days?"

"Yes," her mother said softly.

Kim sank back into her pillow. "Two days," she said softly, her eyes closed. Then she looked at her mother. "Bobby. How's Bobby?"

Kim's mother's expression darkened. "He's fine. Just a couple of minor bruises …"

Kim snorted. "Figures," she said acidly.

"… Though he did have to have his stomach pumped."

Kim reddened. "I'm busted, aren't I?" she asked, suspecting a car accident wasn't going to get her off the hook for underage drinking.

"After you're better, yes," her mother said.

"Well, at least you and Dad won't have to worry about me drinking with Bobby again."

"Oh?" Ann asked.

"Bobby and I are so over," Kim said emphatically, drawing a line under that chapter of her life. "I can't believe I went out with him."

While Ann knew enough not to say 'good' or 'neither can I', she was immensely relived to hear this news from her daughter, almost as relieved as she knew her husband James would be. Neither of them had ever cared for Bobby.

Silence enveloped the room as the teen lay still in her bed, staring at the ceiling, while her mother sat in a bedside chair, looking at her daughter. After a time, Kim looked at Ann. "Mom, can I tell you something?"

"Of course, honey."

Kim took a deep breath. "I had a dream."


"Yeah," Kim said, blushing.

Ann looked at her daughter, a maternal knowing expression on her face. "I see."

Kim looked at her mother as she realized what she was suggesting. "No, no! It wasn't like that," the teen said. "It was, well it was … okay, it was incredibly weird."

"How so?" Ann asked.

"Promise not to laugh?" Kim asked.

Her mother responded with a nod.

"I dreamed I was a hero," Kim said.

"And?" Kim's mother asked, sensing there was more.

"And our last name wasn't Patterson," Kim said. "It was Possible. And I was a cartoon character, though I still had auburn hair and green eyes." The teen paused. "And Ron was in it. A lot."

"Ron Silverberg?"

"Yeah," Kim said. "Except his last name was Stoppable." She paused for a moment, wondering what else to say. In light of her mother's earlier assumption, she chose not to mention that Ron Stoppable constantly lost his pants. "He was my sidekick."

"Really?" Ann Patterson commented, recalling how close Kim and Ron had been before high school.

"Yeah," Kim said softly. "And, he was my boyfriend, too."

"How was that?" Ann asked.

"It was, well, great. Though it was really, well, different, too."

Ann smiled at her daughter and took her hand. "I'm sure it was. Ron's a nice guy, but he's always marched to a different drummer."

"Yeah," Kim said wistfully, thinking first of the odd, yet endearing pet the Ron of her dreams had and then of the real Ron, her eccentric one-time bosom pal, from whom she'd distanced herself in recent years.

Ann reached into the pile of cards on the table and handed one to Kim. "You might enjoy this one."

The teen looked at the cover, which featured R2-D2. She rolled her eyes. "Ron?"

"Ron," her mother said. "He dropped it off on Saturday." Seeing the questioning look on her daughter's face, Ann explained, "The accident was on our street." Since the Silverbergs lived a few doors down from the Pattersons it wasn't surprising that Ron had learned Kim was in the hospital.

"This is so like him," Kim said as she opened the card and it began to play the theme music from Star Wars. She smirked, then began to read.

"Dear Kim," the note began. "I've never really been good at writing these things. What do you say to someone who's been in an accident? 'Get better' just seems so, I don't know, weak, though I do want you to get better, and soon. So, I guess 'get better' it is. Ron."

By the time Kim was done reading Ron's message, her smirk had softened into a genuine smile. She gently laid the card down on the blanket. "Mom, do you mind if I make a call?"


"Yeah, Ron."


Kim was surprised by how nervous she was as she listened to the phone ring. Pick up, Ron!


"Uh, hi," Kim said, realizing she hadn't spoken with Ron's mother in ages. "Could I speak to Ron?"

What seemed to be a very long pause ensued.

"Who's calling?"

"Kim Patterson," the teen said.

Another even longer pause followed. Kim wondered what was going on.

"I'm sorry, Kimberly, but Ronnie can't talk."

"Can I call back later?" Kim asked.

"You can call next Sunday," Mrs. Silverberg said. "After Ronnie's suspension from school is over."

"Ron was suspended?" Kim blurted out. "No way!"

"Way," Mrs. Silverberg said coolly. "I hope you're feeling better. I have to go now. Goodbye."

Kim sat in stunned silence as she listened to the dial tone.

Ron. Suspended?


"Hey, girlfriend!"

Kim up looked from the fashion magazine she was reading to see the smiling visage of her best girl friend and fellow Gap sales associate.

"Hey, Monique!" Kim said.

"You look awful," the African-American girl said with a huge smile.

"Thanks," Kim replied archly.

"So, how you feeling?" Monique asked as she sat down by her friend's bedside.

"Better," Kim answered. "Doctor Patel says I should be able to go home tomorrow. I'll be back in school Tuesday or Wednesday, though I'll have to take it easy."

"Glad to know you're coming back soon," Monique said. "We miss you."

"So," Kim said, shifting gears abruptly. "Why was Ron suspended?"

Monique shook her head. "Bobby didn't tell you?"

Kim scowled. "I haven't spoken to Bobby since Saturday night."

"Go on!"

"I'd rather not," Kim said. "Let's just say Bobby and I are history."

The African-American girl looked thoughtful. "Interesting," she said.

"Monique," Kim growled. "Enough with the mystery. What's going on?"

"Ron kicked Bobby's ass."

"Excuse me?" Kim said.

"You heard me. Never knew the boy had it in him."

"Wait a minute," Kim said. "Ron Silverberg. Kind of gangly, scruffy blond hair, big ears?"

"Yep. He's the one."


"That's the big mystery. Nobody's talking. All anybody knows is that they started yelling at each other and next thing you know, they were going at it. When I first heard about, I was sure Bobby had killed Ron. Looks like I underestimated Geekboy."

Kim scowled. "Don't call him that."


"You heard me," Kim said. "Don't call Ron names like that."

Monique was taken aback. "Since when do you care what anybody calls Ron?"

"Since I woke up and realized I've been a lousy friend," Kim said.

Monique looked at Kim in silence, then grinned.

"What?" Kim asked.

"You like him," Monique said, wonder in her voice.

Kim reddened. She did like Ron. Or least the version she dreamed about and the one with whom she used to be best friends. "So what if I do? Is that a problem?"

"Nah," Monique said with a wave of the hand. "But I gotta ask: why? I mean …"

Kim cut Monique off. "He makes me happy."

Monique wondered what Kim was talking about. She knew that Kim and Ron had once been close but that was a long time ago. "Well, you gotta do what's right for you," she said with a bemused smile.

"Thanks," Kim said. "So," she asked, a note of uncertainty in her voice. "Do you think he likes me?"

"Girlfriend, you're a cheerleader on the honor roll. What's not to like?"

Kim shook her head. "I mean like me for me. It's not like I've done anything to make him like me lately."

Monique shrugged. "There's only one way to find out," she said. "Call him."

Kim frowned. "Tried that. Mrs. Silverberg wouldn't let me talk to him."

Monique rubbed her chin, then grinned. "I think I may have an idea."

"Spill," Kim said.


Kim was restless, waiting to hear from Monique. She practically jumped off of her bed when her cell phone rang and she saw her friend's number.

"So?" Kim asked eagerly.

"Done," Monique said. "Mr. Barkin was surprised when I asked, but happy to do it. Said there's no reason Ron shouldn't be doing homework just because he's not in school …"

Kim couldn't help but laugh.

"… Anyway, mission accomplished."

"You rock," Kim said.

"Don't I know it," Monique said. "So, we gonna see you tomorrow?"

"Seven thirty sharp," Kim answered. "I am so not sitting around the house for another day."

"See you then, girlfriend!"

"Great," Kim said before ending the call. As she looked at her cell phone, she sighed. She'd have to wait until the morning to learn whether Monique's plan had worked.


Kim waited anxiously in the car as Monique approached the Silverbergs' house. The door opened and Ron's father appeared. Kim watched as her friend talked briefly with Mr. Silverberg, then turned and walked back to the car, a bulging folder in hand.

"Here you go," Monique said as she climbed into the car and handed Kim the papers.

"Wow," Kim said as she began leafing through the impressive collection of papers.

"Barkin really must have it out for Ron," Monique said. "This must be twice the work he'd normally be doing if he were –"

"Yes!" Kim exclaimed as she held aloft a piece of lined paper.

Monique grinned. "Guess it's time for me to shut up and drive," she said, seeing Kim had already begun reading.


Hi Kim,

Thanks for the note. It was really cool to find it in all this work Barkin sent home for me. I didn't even know they could do this when you're suspended!

What you wrote really, really meant a lot to me. To be honest, it has bummed me out that we stopped being close, but, well, stuff happens. If you really want to be buds again, sure, I'm willing to give it a try. Thanks for calling, too. I wish I could have talked but Mom's really lowered the boom because of this suspension thing.

As for the Bobby thing, well, we can talk about that next week. Let's just say that I'm glad you're not dating him anymore. He's a total jerk and you deserve way better than that, you know?

Anyway, assuming I don't do something else to get busted between now and then, I'll talk to you on Sunday. Maybe we can go to Chi Chi's and get something to eat, catch up, yadda yadda.


"Good news?" Monique asked.

"Oh yeah," Kim said happily as she focused on the end of Ron's note.

He'd originally signed the message, "your friend, Ron" but, much to Kim's delight, had crossed that out and written, "Your best friend (heck, why not go for the gold?), Ron"


Kim was putting her books into her locker when she heard a familiar voice. "Hey."

She looked over her shoulder. "Oh, hello, Bobby."

"You're looking good," he said.

Kim smirked. She was still sporting light bruises on her arms and right cheek from the accident and her right hand was wrapped in an ace bandage. "What do you want?" she asked coolly.

"I thought we should talk," he said. "Look, I'm sorry about Saturday."

"I am too," Kim muttered under her breath.

"I can see why you might be mad," Bobby continued. "I was going to come see you at the hospital and all, really –"

"Save it for someone who cares, Bobby," Kim said. "We're done."

"What?" he asked.

"I said we're done," she replied.

Bobby was incredulous. "You're dumping me?"

"Yes, I think that's what it's called." Kim explained evenly.

"I can't believe this!" he said.

"Bobby," Kim said, "let's leave aside the fact that you were stupid enough to drive when you were drunk …"

"Hey, I didn't see you complaining," he said sharply.

"No you didn't," Kim said. "And that was because I was such the idiot. But that doesn't change the fact that you could have gotten us killed!"

"But I didn't," he said defensively.

"No, you just landed me in the hospital for three days," Kim said heatedly. "And you didn't even bother to come see me!"

"Hey, I wanted to, but I knew your old man would probably be ripped, so I thought I should stay away. And I sent you those flowers."

Kim shook her head in disgust. "You are so pathetic."

"Okay, you want it this way, then fine," Bobby snapped before he turned to walk away. "By the way, you weren't that good anyway."

"Like you'd have any basis for comparison," Kim shot back when she realized what Bobby meant.

"Actually, I would," Bobby said as he walked away. "You should talk to Bonnie. She actually knows what to do when she gets down on her knees."

Kim, speechless, stood in the hallway, oblivious to all around her. She was angry and she was hurt. But then she began to think of her dream, and what it could be like to date a nice guy who actually cared for her. Determined not to let her ex-boyfriend get her down, she turned on her heel and headed for her next class.


Kim saw Steve Farley sitting a table in the library. She'd never known the baseball star all that well, but she'd heard he was pretty cool. Then again, she'd heard the same thing about her ex, Bobby, before they'd hooked up. She had doubts asking him about the fight between Ron and Bobby, but her need to know outweighed her reservations and she had heard that he'd been in the locker room when the fracas erupted.

She walked over to Farley's table and sat down across from him. He looked up.

"Hey, Kim," he said in greeting.

"Hi, Steve," she said.

"So, what's up?" he asked.

"I hear you saw what happened between Ron and Bobby."

Steve, who was normally a laid-back guy, began fidgeting.

Kim didn't say a word.

"You're not going to go until I tell you what happened, are you?"

"No," Kim said, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Okay," Steve said, shaking his head. "You asked." The athlete closed his books, looked at the table surface as if there he would find the best way to proceed, then looked up at Kim. "Bobby was, uh, talking about you in the locker room after PE on Monday."

"Let me guess," Kim cringed. "He was bragging."

"Yeah," Steve said. Kim thought it was to Farley's credit that he blushed. "Anyway, he, uh, well he was getting kind of graphic …"

"Oh great," Kim groaned.

"… And Silverberg came in. He told Bobby to shut up, to stop talking about you that way. Bobby just laughed at him. Silverberg said Bobby didn't know what he was talking about, that you and he had been friends for years and that you didn't do stuff like that. Bobby told him to grow up, that he didn't know what he was talking about, that, well, you sure did do stuff like that and that you liked it …"

Kim watched as Steve, clearly uncomfortable, looked away.

"Silverberg looked like he'd just been kicked in the gut. Then Bobby said some other, uh, things and, well, uh, Silverberg kind of lost it."

"Lost it?"

Steve actually chuckled. "Yeah, Silverberg threw a punch. It was kind of wild, but he still hit Bobby's jaw. It was all downhill from there."

"Thanks," Kim said quietly. She then rose, got up, and headed outside for some desperately needed fresh air.

She sat down beneath a tree and looked off into the distance, considering the things Steve Farley had told her. It bothered her that she now had a rep and it pained her that someone could essentially see her as nothing more than a thing that could give him some pleasure. But what troubled her most was Ron: how she'd let their friendship wither, how he might see her now, what he might want – and not want – going forward.

She sat there for a long time. Finally, she got up, brushed the grass off her jeans, and walked home.


Kim nervously dialed Ron's number, hoping that he'd answer the phone this time. She really didn't want to talk with Mrs. Silverberg.


Kim breathed a sigh of relief. While it wasn't Ron, it wasn't his mother, either. "Hi Mr. Silverberg. It's Kim Patterson. May I speak to Ron?"

"Hold on just a minute, Kim," Mr. Silverberg said. "Ron!" she heard him call. "Telephone for you!"

A moment later, Kim heard the voice she'd wanted to hear all week. "Hola!"

"Hi, Ron," Kim said.

"Hey, Kim," Ron replied. "How ya doin'?"

"Okay," she said. "So, you still interested in going to Chi Chi's?"

"Yeah, that'd be great," Ron said. "So, when do you want to meet?"

"How about 5:00?" she suggested.

"Sounds good," Ron said. "See you then."

"Okay, see you then," Kim replied as they ended the call.

As she looked at the handset, she felt somehow the conversation was incomplete. She considered why that might be, then realized what was missing: Ron had not once said 'badical', nor had he called her 'KP'.

As Kim got up from her beanbag chair and headed to her closet to pick out something to wear for her rendezvous with her friend, she wondered just how he'd respond to her incredibly vivid dream.


Ron was waiting for her in front of the restaurant. He'd never been much of a dresser but it was clear that he was trying this evening: he was wearing a pair of khakis and a blue button-down shirt. Kim was glad she'd dressed up a bit. She was wearing a maroon skirt, black top, and matching black necklace.

"Hi," they said simultaneously.

"Jinx," Kim said. "You owe me a soda."

"Excuse me?" Ron replied.

Kim reddened. "Long story," she said. "I'll explain later."

"Okay," he said as he opened the door.

They entered the eatery, were shown to a booth, and given menus. A few minutes later, they gave their orders and began to snack on some tortilla chips.

"So, you're looking good," Ron asked.

"Thanks," Kim said. "To be honest, I was lucky, all things considered."

Ron nodded, then looked at the chips. Kim also looked at the chips, then at her hands. Idly, she ran her fingers through her hair while Ron fidgeted with his utensils. Finally, Kim spoke, breaking the awkward silence that had descended on them. "This shouldn't be so hard."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "But, look, Kim. How long has it been? Two, two and a half years?"

"Yeah," Kim said softly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. We drifted apart. It happens," he said, trying to sound nonchalant and failing miserably at it.

"Ron, we didn't drift," Kim said. "I pushed you away. You deserved better than that."

Ron pursed his lips, unsure what to say.

"Don't deny it," Kim said.

Ron's shoulders sagged. "Okay, I won't," he said. "We'd known each since, what, pre-K? I thought that would have counted for something but it didn't count for anything. Watching you hang with other people, not having time for me because I wasn't cool enough, man, that hurt."

"So why'd you beat up Bobby?" she asked.

"Rather not talk about it," he mumbled.

"Ron, I know what happened," she said.

He sighed. He looked at his hands, then at Kim. "Even if it kind of sucked, we'd been friends forever and that still meant something to me. And when I heard Bobby saying those things —"

Kim gulped. "They were true," she said softly. "Or at least some of them were."

Now it was Ron's turn to gulp. "It doesn't matter."


Ron took a deep breath. "Kim, look, what you do is your business, okay, but, he, well, he said you …"

Kim watched the pain on Ron's face; she could see he was struggling with what he'd heard, both from Bobby and now from her.

"… He said you were a cheap slut."

Kim shut her eyes.

"I don't care what you did or didn't do," he said with a firmness that surprised her. "You don't talk about a girl that way. It's just not right."

Kim took a deep breath. She knew then she wanted to tell Ron what had happened; she'd told no one, not her mother, not Monique. She needed for someone to know what she'd experienced, how she saw things, and she knew instinctively that Ron was the one to tell. "We went to a party at Marcella's after the prom," she began. "There was beer, other stuff there. We began drinking, dancing, making out …"

Kim looked up to see Ron was listening to her, though his face was expressionless.

"… Bobby asked me for a blow job." There, I said it, she thought. "I said no, but he asked again, told me it really wasn't a big deal, it wasn't like he was asking me to have sex after all. After a while, I agreed." Kim realized she was tearing up; something that could have been erotic and special for her with the right guy at the right time had instead been tossed away in a basement rec room with a callow jerk. "I, I …" She was surprised when Ron reached across the table and took her hand.

"You don't have to say anything else," Ron said gently.

Kim dabbed at her eyes and shook her head. "After I did it," she said with a rueful laugh, "you know what he did? He tried to convince me to do it with him! Right there! I told him no way. Before I knew it, we were arguing. Finally, I told him to take me home. That's when we had the accident."

"That tanks," Ron said.

"Yeah, it does," Kim said bitterly. "Junior Prom was supposed to be the best night of my life and instead I got drunk, made out with a jerk and wound up in the hospital."

"I'm sure I'm supposed to say something helpful right now," Ron said, "but I haven't a clue as to what."

"No big," she said.

"'No big'? Since when do you say 'no big'?" Ron said. "Man, we really haven't been talking much."

"Actually," Kim admitted. "I never said it before last week."

"Okay, you've lost me," Ron said.

"Can I tell you something crazy?" Kim asked, her voice suddenly filled with mounting enthusiasm.

"Sure," he said.

"When I was in the hospital, I had this weird dream. It was good, but really, really weird …"


Ron sipped at his soda as he continued to listen to Kim's story. "Monkey powers? I had monkey powers?"

"Yeah," Kim said, embarrassed by how ridiculous some of her dream must be sounding to Ron.

"Cool!" he exclaimed, much to Kim's relief and amusement. "What else could I do? Could I fly?"

Kim laughed.

"What?" Ron asked.

"You're weird," she said.

"Wait a minute," Ron protested with mock indignation. "You're the one talking about us regularly stopping some blue guy who tries to take over the world with the help of some lady who has glowing hands and I'm weird?"

"Okay, so maybe I'm a little weird, too," Kim said with a shrug and a huge smile. "Now, as long as we've got that cleared up, let me tell you about the time we switched bodies …"


The two teens stood outside of the restaurant; it was 9:40 and Kim had to be home by 10:00. Given recent events, she really didn't feel it would be prudent to miss her curfew; her parents had actually given her a reprieve from a month-long grounding so she could meet Ron.

"Well, this has been great," he said. "Or should I say 'radical'?"

"Actually," she said with a smile, "You say 'badical'."

"Gotcha," he said. A moment passed. Then Ron shuffled his feet and began rubbing the back of his neck.

"What?" Kim asked.

"I still can't believe we dated," he responded, finding it hard to believe that Kim Patterson had actually dreamed she'd been his girlfriend. The teen hero stuff and saving the world business he could easily see. But Kim's subconscious choosing him to be her boyfriend? That amazed Ron.

"Mmm hmm," she said. "At least thirteen months by the time I woke up."

"Man, it must be good to be the Dream Ron," he said, looking at his shoes.

Kim looked at Ron, then gently reached up to his face. "It was good to be the Dream Kim, too," she said. "And it's good to be the real one." Much to Ron's surprise, Kim embraced him. Tentatively, he wrapped his arms around her.

"So," he finally said. "What happens now?"

"I don't know," she said as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Well, we could hang out, see what happens," he suggested.

"I'd like that," Kim said. "You know, I was actually thinking it might be cool to volunteer somewhere, really help some people. Maybe the hospital or Red Cross. You up for that?"

"Sure," Ron said. "Though, uh, in addition to that there's something else we could do, too," Ron said before he gulped nervously. "If you'd like, that is."

"Oh?" Kim replied, her heart aflutter as she took in Ron's expression and tone.

"Well, since there isn't a giant cactus or guy named Drekken …"

"Drakken," Kim corrected her friend.

"… I could just tell you that it would be the most incredibly cool thing that ever happened to me if I were to actually get to go out on a date with you."

"Really?" Kim said.

"Yeah," Ron said. "You don't know how much I've fantasized about it, though maybe you can guess. Geek longs for cheerleader and everything."

Kim looked into Ron's eyes, knowing he'd been fantasizing not about cheerleaders, but about her.

"I don't know about this geek-cheerleader thing," she said. "Maybe we could try childhood friends who find out they can have something pretty special instead?" she suggested.

"Works for me," Ron said.

"Good," she said as she gently stroked his cheek, then brought her lips to his. The kiss was completely different than any she'd ever experienced before. Somehow, in a way that none of the others had, this one seemed like it really mattered.

After a time, she pulled back, marveling at the young man before her. He wasn't handsome, not like Bobby or the other guys she'd dated. But he was cute in an odd way. And, more important to Kim Patterson, he looked at her for who she was, nothing more, nothing less, not caring that she wasn't a teen hero who knew sixteen kinds of kung fu but instead was just a normal, average teenaged girl.

She looked into his eyes, kissed him again, then smiled.

"What?" Ron asked, a goofy grin on his face.

"Nothing really," she said happily. "Just that sometimes dreams can come true."

The End

Disney's Kim Possible © Walt Disney Co. Kim Patterson and Ron Silverberg are the property of the author.