A/N: Hi everyone! Yes, I'm back with another one of those angsty ones (LOL). Have no fear, I have a couple of much more cheerful plot bunnies in the planning stages! Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. KP belongs to Disney.

Broken and Overcome

Speed was his strong suit, but stealth never had been. Maybe it was because his breathing grew shallow and wheezy whenever he got nervous. Perhaps because he usually kept a chattering, pink hairless mole rat in his pocket on certain assignments. Or maybe because whenever he was with her, he felt compelled to make a remark about their surroundings, from the décor to the bad guys at hand.

But this time he had been alone, and these were new rogues, not the usual goofballs they faced. These guys had guns, and no plans on showing any mercy. Up until he was eighteen, Global Justice had left assignments like these to their top agents, leaving himself and his lifelong partner with clowns like Drakken and Dementor. Now they were adults, entering their mid twenties, and things were different. For one, they were both packing—something they had both been hesitant about from the start, but gave into once the slick hand revolvers had proved useful. His had been removed from his possession a couple hours ago, by one of the mafia hit men in the cramped quarters with him at the moment.

He had been doing so well: slipped in on the stout rope through the vent in the ceiling, completely undetected. Concealing himself behind a large pile of storage boxes, he saw the objects of his mission conversing in a corner. He was about to spring into a surprise attack when something went off, something he should have foreseen and did nothing about, something that confirmed he was the biggest idiot on the face of the earth—his cell phone.

Slipping back into the darkness, he grabbed the phone from his utility belt, hearing the goons whisper loudly to each other and move from their spots in the corner. Covering the LED light with his hands, he made out the name "Monique" on the sender of the text message. As soon as he hit "view message", two things happened at once that made his heart stop. One was the hard pressing of a cold steel gun into the back of his head, one of the men breathing heavily down his neck. The other was the words in the text Monique had sent:

Her water broke

"ARGH! For God's sake, why does this have to be so complicated?!" Kim screamed, her back arching against the stiff hospital bed as yet another contraction coursed through her abdomen. She had lost count how many about two hours ago. "Why can't I just have the darn thing?!"

"You're not dilated enough, Kimmie," her mother answered, pacing next to her bed with a clipboard. Normally, Anne Possible practiced brain surgery at Middleton hospital, but for personal reasons she had wanted to witness becoming a grandmother for herself. "I'd say you've got another two hours to go at the most."

"Two more hours of this?!"

"I texted Ron and he never got back to me," Monique said from the chair on Kim's right hand side. "He must be on his way."

"He was—called—on a mission—this morning," Kim choked out through staggered breathing. "He'll—be here—once he's done."

"Where did he go anyway?" Anne asked, setting the clipboard down and wiping Kim's forehead with a cold cloth.

"He didn't tell me!" Kim said, shouting the last two words as she felt another contraction. "But he's a big boy, Mom—he can take care of himself."

"You government secret agencies think you're so cunning," hissed the voice in Ron's left ear, so close he could feel the man spit as he spoke. "Global Justice—justice for whom exactly?"

"Dudes who have the decency to pop in a few Tic-Tacs," Ron remarked smartly, moving his face away from the foul breath in question. He shouted out in pain as the man to his right slammed the butt of the gun against his head, and Ron saw stars for a moment before his vision cleared.

"Strike one," the man to his left said. "We'll do the talking around here, not you. What exactly did you plan on doing in here, boy?"

"Taking back the plans for the nuclear atom bomb that you stole," Ron said promptly. Just stay calm…you can do this, Stoppable…you'll be outta here soon… A beeping sound echoed in the room—his phone again. A third man reached inside Ron's belt and wrenched the phone out roughly, glancing at the screen.

"It's a text message."

The man to Ron's left let out a sinister chuckle, "Read it out loud."

"No—!" Ron was cut off as the man on his right hit him hard across the mouth.

"Shut up!" he yelled, then nodded to the one holding Ron's phone.

"It says 'hurry up'," the third man said, reading from the screen. "'She needs you.'"

"How sweet," the first man said as Ron spit blood from his mouth, breathing heavily. "To what do we owe the honor of interrupting?"

"My wife's in labor," Ron growled. "Maybe you've heard of her…she used to be Kim Possible."

"Ah…I thought the name on your ID looked familiar," the first man said. "You're the one that's always in her shadow…"

"More or less," Ron said. Just keep 'em talking…you gotta get back to Kim…

"Well, I'll be more than happy to release you to your lovely wife," the first man said, "once you tell me the location of the Global Justice branch you came from…so we may eliminate it from the map."

Ron looked up into the man's cold, black eyes and glared, "No can do."

"It's time!" Anne called to Monique as Kim's contractions reached their peak.

"No! Not without Ron—where is he?!" Kim cried out.

"I don't know, he hasn't answered," Monique said, grasping Kim's hand tight. "You don't think something hap—?"

"Oh he's fine!" Kim yelled impatiently. "He probably stopped at Bueno Nacho for all I know!"

"Honey, we can't wait for him, you've got to start pushing now," Anne insisted, glancing down at the area between Kim's open legs.

"Monique?" Kim said, glancing up at her with pleading eyes. "If he's not here in fifteen minutes, have Wade track him, please and thank you."

"You got it, girl," Monique said, wincing as Kim squeezed her hand tight with a loud scream.

Ron screamed in pain again as the gun slammed against his skull. The first man grabbed him and flung him to the ground. Ron landed on his stomach and tried to get up, but he felt himself being held down by the man's foot grinding into his back.

"Strike two," he said in a voice of quiet anger. "Don't make me get to strike three. I'd hate to keep these boys here longer to clean up your blood. You have ten seconds to tell me where your branch of Global Justice is."

It was his choice…his own life, or the lives of every member of Middleton's GJ branch. Have an entire government agency destroyed, or leave his child fatherless? Leave Kim, his beautiful wife, full of strength and devotion a widow at twenty-four?

"Five seconds…"

But what was one life compared to at least a hundred; Dr. Director, Will Du, each and every one of the agents he and Kim had joined alliances with? He couldn't leave them at the mercy of these pigs, bent on wiping them out. He had never been one of the top agents in the field, but he had something about him that some of the others did not. He was going to leave this world the same way he came into it: pure-hearted and loyal.

"Suck it," Ron spat out. He closed his eyes as he heard the echo of the hammer being pulled back. He saw himself and Kim, standing in the yard of the preschool all those years ago. He saw her at the junior prom, graduation, on their wedding day, her glowing face framed by her silky auburn hair, those bright emerald eyes that had stolen his heart from the very beginning.

I love you, Kim…

The gunshot fired, and a flash of blinding azure blue lit up the room before everything went black.

One final scream tore through Kim's throat, followed by different scream—the crying of an infant. She exhaled vocally and collapsed backward onto the pillows, having just been through the hardest workout a woman could ever do: she had given birth to a screaming, purple, blood-covered mass of life. Her face and hair was drenched in sweat, she was exhausted and could hardly regain control of her breathing…but somehow she felt exhilarated, more alive than she ever had in her life.

Monique had tears streaming down her face as she covered Kim's hand with both of hers, "You did it, girlfriend…you really did it!"

"How…how is it?" Kim managed to breath out.

Anne smiled down at the wailing bundle of joy, now wrapped in a blanket, "She is doing fine."

"A girl, it's a girl!" Monique squealed like a high school girl, as if she'd never heard of such a thing before. She turned to Kim, whose eyes were closed and she was breathing deeply as if asleep.

"Boy is Ron gonna beat himself up over missing this," Kim whispered, just as the four tone beep of the Kimmunicator rang and Monique answered it.

"What's the verdict?" Wade asked.

"It's a girl!" Monique squealed again.

"Not so loud, Mon," Kim said weakly as she drifted off to sleep. Monique got up from the chair and walked just outside the hospital room.

"She's asleep," Monique whispered to Wade. "You should've seen that girl give birth, Wade—there weren't nothin' stopping her."

"I'll bet," Wade said. "But..."

"Did you track Ron? Geez, where the hell is he?!"

"Monique, that's what I need to tell you…and it isn't easy," Wade said. "I tracked him to a mafia headquarters in New York…just before his bio signs faded out."

"What do you mean, 'bio signs'?" Monique asked, gripping the device hard. "What do you mean 'faded out'?"

Wade swallowed hard, but his voice still broke when he spoke, "Monique…I don't know how to say this, but Ron's—" He stopped and Monique looked up as the elevator in the hallway sounded. The doors parted and Dr. Betty Director strode through them.

"Dr. Direc—!"

"Where's Kimberly?" the stoic woman asked sharply, striding towards Kim's hospital room, only to be stopped by Anne.

"Betty, wait," she whispered, pulling the door to Kim's room shut. "She's resting—now what's happened?" The three women sat down in the vacant waiting area, Monique still holding Kim's Kimmunicator in a death grip.

"We sent Ronald out to infiltrate a mafia headquarters this morning," Betty began, "since it was believed they had stolen government plans for a nuclear bomb. However, in the past few hours, something…something happened. Something that gave away Ron's position and our tracking device was cut off…which led us to believe he had been captured." Anne pressed a hand over her heart as Dr. Director took a deep breath and continued. "Fortunately, we contacted Wade who still had Ron micro chipped at the request of Kim, and he was able to discover where he was being held. But…we were too late."

"What do you mean 'too late'?" Anne asked, but she already knew the answer. So did Monique, who looked down at Wade's face on the Kimmunicator—his eyes were full of tears.

"Moments after we had a lock on his location, we heard a gunshot…and all of Ron's biological readings flat lined. The entire facility collapsed within minutes afterward, but the culprits were nowhere to be found."

"But Ron might still be in there!" Monique cried out desperately. "He could still be ali—!"

"Agent Du recovered his body about twenty minutes ago," Dr. Director whispered solemnly. Wade hung up silently on Monique, who had begun sobbing into her hands. Anne put her arms around her and looked up at the head of Global Justice through tear-filled eyes.

"No…dear God Betty, no," Anne said quietly in an anguished tone. She looked over at the closed door of Kim's room, then hung her head. Betty nodded, seeming to read her mind.

"I'll tell her, Annie…I wouldn't want either of you to put yourselves through that," she said. "Unfortunately, I've had to do this quiet a few times over the years of losing agents tragically. I should wait until she's—"

"No, she'd want you to tell her immediately," Anne said, and Monique looked up nodding, wiping her face on her sleeve. "If I know my daughter, she'd never forgive us if we waited to tell her something like this." She stood and Dr. Director followed suit, walking towards Kim's door and opening it slowly. Monique sat quietly, tears rolling down her cheeks as she watched Kim's mother close the door behind her, and heard faintly, "Kim…wake up, honey…"

Anne walked as fast as she could to the nursery, away from Kim's room where she had left her and Betty alone. She had thought she could do it, she had thought she could keep it together as Betty explained to Kim what had happened…and told her that Ron, her best friend, her husband, the most important man in her life, was never coming back to her. Kim hadn't cried; it would have been easier to cope if she had broken down, then Anne could have gathered her up in her arms and held her like she used to when she was a little girl.

But the look in her eyes…the wide, glazed, lost look that had frozen on Kim's features when Betty uttered those words: "He's dead, Kim…I'm so sorry, but…Ron is gone…" There was no reaction, no explosion of emotion in the moments that followed. She had just stared at them both, the picture of utmost vulnerability. Gone were the traces of the world famous heroine seen on the magazine covers with her wide, confident smile and piercing green eyes, the fierce determination whenever a villain was on the move and she had to be the one to stop them—always with Ron by her side. Always. Even now, Anne could see the two of them walking in the front door from preschool and little four-year-old Kimmie tugging on her leg.

Mommy! This is Ron, I met him at pwee-school. We're gonna go play in the backyard now, see ya!

It had only been that morning that little Kimmie was so scared to break out of her shell, so timid until she met him—the boy who brought out the best in her, even when she was at her worst. And since then, Anne had never seen her daughter so fearful…until now. Now, when Kim had stared at her and Dr. Director for what seemed like an eternity, until one word breathed from her trembling lips: "What?"

Anne found the bassinet with the last name Stoppable written on the white sticker on the side. Gathering the sleeping infant up in her arms, this baby girl that had come gracefully into the world with no complications or delays, Anne made her way back to Kim's room, stopping only to let Dr. Director come out of the room. She met Anne's eyes and shook her head slowly before making her way to the elevator…

Numbness…only without the intense cold. Numbness…but not like she had just plunged into an icy lake. It was nothing but a lack of feeling, her ears ringing, her heart stopping and restarting when she remembered to breathe.

He's dead…Ron is gone.

How could a statement so simple take away the joy of giving birth to her baby daughter and replace it with this feeling of…nothing? How could five ordinary words bring the last twenty years of her life grinding to a screeching halt? She didn't want to believe it was true…no, any moment Ron was going to burst through the door with a wide grin and Betty and her mother would burst out laughing.

Because it was all a joke. It had to be a joke. He would never leave…Ron would never leave her. He had been in her life for too long to just disappear. For Betty to come barging in minutes after she had been through the fatigue of childbirth bearing this news, telling her that a gunshot was heard and Ron's body was found under the collapse of the area—no, Ron was alive. She didn't care what anyone said to her. The odds that she had lost her husband and given birth to their daughter concurrently were a million to one, and Ron dying was an even greater feat to comprehend.

There was nothing ordinary about the bond between them; since the age of four they knew everything about each other inside and out. Years before they started dating, they were completing eachother's sentences or speaking at the same time. Only Ron knew her deepest secrets, her guilty pleasures, and her darkest fears—yes she, Kim Possible, had fears, for only Ron knew about the chain of nightmares she'd had for several weeks following the alien invasion at high school graduation, and he had been the one who comforted her in his arms no matter what time of night it was. He was her whole world, and she was his—and if anything had happened to him, she would have known. She knew she would have felt something deep down in her core.

"Kimmie?" came a soft voice from the doorway, and Kim turned her head slowly to see her mother. She carried a bundle in a baby pink blanket, "She's all cleaned up. There were no difficulties; she's a perfectly healthy baby girl."

Kim reached out and gathered the bundle into her arms, holding her daughter for the first time. She had never seen anything so beautiful in her life, and she had brought this child into the world. Bringing her finger up, she gently caressed her baby's cheek, feeling the soft velvet skin. Her finger traveled down and came to rest on the infant's tiny clutched hand. Then, ever so slowly, the sleeping child seemed to recognize her mother's touch, as the tiny fingers closed around Kim's index finger. Kim felt a burning in her throat as she looked up at her mother, who smiled weakly.

"Have you thought up a name yet?"

Kim kissed the little sleeping face softly—and as she pulled back, saw the faint wisps of blond hair on the infant's head. Her burning throat tightened and she had to swallow several times before answering, "Jessica…Ron loved that name. It was…the only girl's name we could agree on." She could suddenly hear her heart pounding in her ears as she began to breathe heavily through her mouth.

"He would have been here by now."

Anne could no longer restrain her tears as she held Kim by the shoulders, "Oh sweetheart…Kimmie, I am so, so sorry."

"I don't believe it."

"Ten people witnessed Agent Du find his body—"

"I don't believe it."

"He's gone, Kimmie, you have to accept that. He's not coming back, and you know in your heart that that's the truth."

"No," Kim said in the sharpest, firmest voice she could muster. "If there's one thing I know in my heart, it's that he's still alive. I know it; I would've felt it if something happened."

"That's not necessarily true," Anne said, cupping Kim's face in her hand. "I used to believe that about your father—"

"You and Daddy don't have what Ron and I have."

"You're right, we don't," Anne stated firmly, and Kim suddenly felt like she was sixteen again, being scolded by her mother. "This is tragic, Kim, and I'm sorry it had to happen to you, but you have got to understand that it has happened. I loved him too—I loved him like a son just as much as I love your brothers."

She could barely say the last sentence as she began to sob. Kim looked from her mother down to the baby in her arms. Slowly, she reached up and stroked the blond hairs with her fingertips—and knew, all at once, that Ron was never coming through that door. She would never hear that high, nasally voice of his that she used to find annoying, would never feel his warm sweet breath against her as they made love. She would never hold him, she would never again feel his soft lips…those lips she had waited far too long to kiss, and now never would again.

"Oh, Ron!" Kim burst out in a shuddering, anguished exhale. Clutching the newborn to her chest, she finally let go, weeping as she never had before. She wanted so badly to believe that her daughter didn't have Ron's golden locks, angrily wishing that the child birthing had taken her life as well—for at least then she would be with Ron, they would still be together. Instead, she was here, alive and whole…completely and utterly alone. As she felt the tears cascade from her eyes, Kim willed herself to believe that it was Ron's arms that held her tightly, his chest that her head was leaning against as she released her pain—even though she knew perfectly well that the embrace belonged to her mother.

Consciousness slowly seeped forward in his brain…he was lying on something hard, stiff, and cold. Ever so gradually, he opened his eyes. White…the only color he could see. A bright glow greeted his vision, and it felt as though he were surrounded by a gentle veil of comfort. This must be what heaven is like. Not the cornucopia of giant burritos and sombreros he had thought it was several years ago, but this…lying still in complete silence…man whatever I'm on is cold! Ever so slowly, he raised his hand so that he might grasp the heavenly blaze above him…

His hand could not move much further, as it collided with the veil…Wait…the veil he felt around him was real. It was…covering him. He brought his hand up to his face, and the veil rippled along with his arm movement. A sheet?! he realized, I'm under a sheet? No wonder all he could see was white.

In one swift motion, he pushed the sheet off his head and opened his eyes all the way. The glow was coming from the sunlight in the overhead window in the concrete wall. I guess I'm in a basement or something. His arms felt the cold beneath him, the cold of a steel table—the cold he felt so intensely due to the fact that he had no shirt or pants on, just boxers. Hey, who took my clothes?! He sat up suddenly and looked around, and he realized something else. Wherever he was, it wasn't heaven, and he wasn't dead. He had been here a couple times before, and the logo on a first aid kit on the table only confirmed his location—he was in the basement of the Middleton Global Justice headquarters.

But why was he here, covered in a sheet? Obviously someone must have believed he was dead, he couldn't think of any other reason why he would have woken up in this condition. He leapt off the table when he saw a GJ watch lying on the table across from him. Picking it up, he saw the time: 11:45 AM. Hitting the button on the side, the digital numbers rearranged themselves, and Ron gasped when he saw the date. Four days?! I've been dead for four days?! Wait…was I dead? That seemed to be the million dollar question.

It was starting to come back to him now...he was thinking of Kim just before those mafia men shot him…or tried to shoot him. There was a blast of azure blue—the glow of his Mystical Monkey Power. He never felt the bullet, it must have whizzed past him when his power came forth, and ultimately caused the collapse of the mafia's headquarters. Could that have been what saved him? Why did his power come and go so quickly? All he had done was let his mind wander to the love of his life in an attempt to take it off the fact that he was about to die…

Maybe there wasn't an answer. Maybe…it just wasn't his time to go. Perhaps he wasn't quite finished being a part of Kim's life, loving her, having her back when she took the lead, protecting her when she couldn't handle it alone, reminding her to take it easy when she pushed herself too hard, spoiling her every once in awhile with his Naco royalties because she was worth it. Kim was worth fighting for, dying for if it meant making sure she was out of harm's way—and because of his devotion, he had been given another chance.

Someone up there must really like me…

Turning to his right, he saw his mission clothes, dirty and torn up lying across the back of a chair. Grabbing them off the chair and throwing them on, he pried open the basement window and took off down the street—he had a wife, and newborn child, to return home to.

"Are you sure you don't want us to stay with you?" Zita asked as she folded up some blankets and stuffed them in Kim's duffel bag, she and Monique preparing her to return home from the hospital.

Kim shook her head, just as baby Jessica began to cry, "I'll be alright, girls, really. You know I've got you both on speed dial if I need you." She opened up her shirt and began nursing Jessica as Monique shook her head.

"Well I'm staying," she said with an air of finality. "I don't care. 'Cause if I don't, I'm gonna be up all night worrying about you committing suicide over Ron—!"

"Monique!" Zita cried reproachfully as Kim tensed, closing her eyes.

"Don't tell me you haven't been thinking about it, girl!" Monique shouted in Kim's direction, her voice breaking. Zita sat down on the bed and put an arm around Kim's shoulders.

"Of course I have," Kim said, looking up at her, her emerald eyes flashing dangerously. "I've thought about it every day since it happened, but I won't do it Monique. Because I can't. It's selfish, and I can't afford to be selfish anymore because I have Jessica." She held the infant closer against her breast as she stared down Monique, who had tears leaking from her eyes. "Monique…the fact that I am never, ever going to see Ron again is killing me. It's absolutely tearing me apart to the point where I feel like I have nothing left to give. That the fight I've always had in me is gone. But I have to go on…for her sake. 'Cause what's going to happen to her if I'm selfish?"

Monique opened her mouth to respond, then slowly closed it again. Nodding at Kim, she picked up the duffel bags and headed out the door, crying softly as she did so. Zita reached over and pulled Kim into a tight hug.

"She just misses him," she whispered in Kim's ear. "We all do…so much. Felix is such a wreck, I'm afraid to leave him alone. We just—we just feel the same way about you. Both of you." She leaned down and kissed the baby on top of the head, a single tear landing on the blanket. "I'll get the rest of your stuff outside."

"Close the door, please and thank you," Kim asked, trying to keep her voice steady. Zita nodded in understanding, taking up the last of the bags and shutting the door behind her. Once she was gone, Kim surrendered to her grief. She didn't know how many more times she was going to fall apart like this, but the heartache was so suffocating she had no choice. She let the tears flow, covering her face in hot, salty tracks, her shoulders began shaking uncontrollably as she gently removed Jessica's mouth from her breast. The baby looked up at her with bright emerald eyes that mirrored hers, the golden blond hair lying flat against her scalp.

"Why did you have to have his hair?" Kim managed to choke out, running her hand over the tiny head. She reached down to close her shirt, feeling the tears fall like a steady rain. "Your father knew how badly I wanted to raise a family. I was almost ready to give up the missions to do it. But he didn't care; he said whatever I wanted, he had my back." She pressed her wet cheek against the infant's, holding her firmly. "Oh Jess…he always had my back. And I didn't always act like I appreciated it, but I did. I always said I could do anything, but the only reason I could was because of him." She thought she heard the door open, but didn't look up from her baby's face. "You would have loved him. He would have been…the world's greatest dad." She closed her eyes, gulping back sobs as she rocked her back and forth. "Ron…Ron, I love you…I love you so much it hurts. And no matter how long it takes, please wait for me."

"Well, that depends…just how long are we talking here, KP?"

Nothing, nothing registered in Kim's brain except for those last two letters that came from the voice in the doorway. She had imagined it—good God she was hallucinating. There was only one person in the entire world who called her KP. She wouldn't open her eyes, she wouldn't glance at the doorway to see if the owner of that endearing nasally voice was standing there. Kim didn't think she could stand being wrong, realizing that she had indeed imagined his voice…it would break her heart all over again.

The moments ticked by, and Kim realized the risk had to be taken, if only for the small portion of her heart that believed Ron was still with her. Slowly, she lifted her head from Jessica's now sleeping form, opened her eyes and, with every ounce of the Possible courage within her, turned towards the doorway.

She had heard correctly. There he was. Her angel. Not with some heavenly glow around him like in that one Patrick Swayze movie, but in dirty, torn mission wear, stubble along his jaw line, pale as if he had not eaten in days. Kim was completely stunned, unable to speak, her arms holding the baby limp. For minutes that seemed to move into hours, they stared at each other. Then Kim managed to formulate the only thing she could think of to say, "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough," Ron said, taking a step into the room. She was a vision, glowing as any new mother would, despite the tears on her face. His eyes traveled down to the bundle in her lap—and realized the true reason why he had been given a second chance. It was not only to be a husband, but to be a father to his child. His child. Their child. Because she could now truly be called their child.

Ron practically flew across the room, and Kim hastily put the baby in the bassinet beside her, so as she would not be crushed by the impact that was about to occur. She turned back around, and Ron was on the bed—and in her arms. He clung to her so tightly, dry sobs erupting from within him as he buried his face in her neck.

"I knew it," Kim whispered, clutching him so hard her nails dug into his back. "I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!" she repeated over and over until she broke down completely. For what felt like eternity, they were the only two people in the world, crying into eachother's arms, Ron covering Kim's face and neck in kisses before finally meeting her lips—and then the passion was only broken when they were forced to come up for air. "How?" she breathed, gazing into his deep brown eyes.

"I…I don't know, Kim," Ron said in a cracked voice, struggling to regain his composure. "All I remember is that something—something must've triggered my monkey powers. There was a big flash of blue light, and this burst of energy and it must've caused the building to collapse."

"But that would've killed you," Kim said. "It—it should've killed you. Dr. Director, Will, everyone saw you dead! The energy that radiated from you must have also protected you. It's the only way…"

"Instead of getting killed, I was in some kind of deep coma with no pulse or signs of life or anything," Ron said. "But something else saved me Kim, something that's even bigger than being the Monkey Master." He ran a hand through her hair and let it rest on her cheek. "Being your husband…and being a dad. I knew my job wasn't done yet, and…someone up there must've known it too."

Kim reached behind her into the bassinet and lifted the infant out, "I think it's about time you met your daughter, Dad." She handed her to Ron, who gingerly encircled his arms around his baby girl. "Jessica Marie Stoppable."

"A girl…" he breathed. The baby cooed softly against his chest, and tears spilled down Ron's cheeks. "She's…the second most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life."

Kim couldn't help chuckling as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissing him, "She sure is. And gosh darn it, we are gonna be the best parents ever!"

"Booyah!" Ron exclaimed happily, kissing Kim briefly on the lips. "It's gonna be a blast, watching this tiny little thing grow up to be a crime fighting cheerleader who—cooks and—has Mystical Monkey powers and—shops retail." He looked up at Kim and said in a voice of dead seriousness, "We gave birth to a monster, didn't we?"

And once they'd had themselves a good laugh over those prospects, Ron stood with one arm holding his daughter, the other around Kim's waist. "Come on, Mom…let's get you girls home."

A/N: I hope you guys liked this one. It was a plot bunny I've had nagging in the back of my mind for awhile, and I finally said "Ya know, why not?" Okay, maybe watching the late Patrick Swayze in Ghost may have had a bit to do with it ;)

Please read and review!