Kim Possible Porn Story: Way Too Old School Chapter 11

Kim Possible Porn Story: Way Too Old School Chapter 11

At the Mixer of Madness pt. 2

WTOS

Fifteen points.

What!? came the incredulous response. How the hell do you figure that? Fifty!

The elder Delta shook his head slowly. He wasnt sure how it had come to be this way, how this duty had fallen to him. Brent knew he wasnt the best looking brother at Delta Iota Rho, his nose was bigger than he wouldve liked and his skin suffered from a pasty paleness that threatened to burn if he even glanced at a tanning bed for too long. Still, in this matter, his word was law, and that was just the way he liked it.

Members of a fraternity like DIP have certain expectations placed upon them. Some were born through decades of tradition. Most, unfortunately, were stereotypes created by bad frat house movies. There was the binge drinking, the overstated rivalries between houses, even the brutal humiliation, or hazing, of incoming new members was to be expected.

Of course, none of these clichs were observed with the same zeal and reverence as the truly favorite pastime of any Dip the conquest of gorgeous young women.

And, like with so many things enjoyed by young men, elements of friendly competition were inevitable. There were disputes, of course. The question became quantity versus quality. How can one measure what is fundamentally an act of love between a man and a woman? Who can quantify what has long been considered a sacred act of union?

Oh, they found a way. Theyre students at Harvard, for crying out loud.

Brent, better known among the brotherhood by his nickname Data, was the current keeper of their system. A prospective female paramour was observed, judged, and assigned a Pleasure Of Ogling Number, more commonly known as her P.O.O.N. rating. The system itself worked on a number of factors, something that Brent didnt expect the younger brothers to understand right away. Thats why he was there.

She was originally a 95, he explained, pointing to the brunette that was the object of their discussion. Problem is that the rating drops with every confirmed success. Its called the law of diminishing returns.

The first year Delta beside him took another long look at the girl hed been talking to earlier.

Exactly how much diminishing are we talking about? he asked.

Five points per, said Brent, sporting a sardonic grin. You do the math.

At least its a guaranteed fifteen, a smooth, mocking voice spoke up beside them. I bet even you could close the deal with her, little brother.

The younger man frowned up at the new arrival, who was indeed his big brother. The Big Bro/Lil Bro system was a mentorship program popular in fraternities all over the country, as was its Big Sis/Lil Sis sorority counterpart. An older member would take on a younger one while he was still in the pledging process, the purpose being for the new member to have a ready source of information and support. In his case, his mentor figure barely talked to him except to belittle him. Not to mention the fact that the upperclassmen had already snaked four girls, including his girlfriend from before college, right out from under him.

Screw you, Chuck! he snapped, drink sloshing in his hand, before scanning the crowd again. I could close the deal with any chick here, I dont have to go after anybodys leftovers. What about that blonde over there, in the blue skirt?

Where? Chuck asked blithely before his amused disinterest became amused interest. Her? Oh little brother, you do like to live dangerously. No, wait. You have no idea who that budding DEB princess holding court over there is do you, Duncan?

How should I know? he shot back, never taking his eyes off his potential target. I never saw her before tonight. I just know that shes hot and she isnt talking to any of the other brothers yet. So, gimme her rating. Cmon, Brent, whats she worth?

470, the pale Ivy Leaguer answered instantly.

Duncan almost dropped his red plastic cup at the staggering figure. His head jerked back and forth, one second searching for any sign of falsehood in the elder boys expression, before snapping back to the girl to see if he could find any clue as to why shed be so valuable. In his pledge class, no three members combined had that many points racked up yet. Hed never even heard of any single girl with a P.O.O.N. so highly rated.

Identical twins, sure. But never one girl.

I know what youre thinking, his Big Bro chimed in. You want to know how some, admittedly tasty-looking, freshman walks in with those kind of numbers. Simple. Shes a Venable.

Shes a what? asked Duncan, clearly not following.

It means that shes Dalton Venables baby sister, he deadpanned. Which, before you ask another stupid question, is only important because it means that shes Jackson Venables daughter.

There was a pause as Duncan, even while he was silently fuming at being so blatantly insulted, seemed torn. Brent deduced the reason and, with a sigh and a roll of his eyes, answered the stupid question the underclassman was struggling not to ask.

Jackson Venable, Delta Class of 76, he explained. You mightve heard his nickname before, Stoneballs Jackson. Hes a Senior VP of New South Life and Casualty down in Georgia, which youd know if you bothered to pay attention at any of the alumni dinners. Dont know how you could forget a guy who spends most of the dinner talking about all the ways you can make a murder look like a suicide.

Why the hell would he want to make a murder look like a suicide!? the younger man half shrieked, prompting the other two to shush him.

Two reasons, Data answered, grinning evilly. His companys life insurance policies have a suicide clause. It voids the policy so theres no payout, which is good for their bottom line. And the second reason

The second reason is so that he can quietly and cleanly remove threats to his precious little girls virtue, finished Chuck, loving the look of sheer terror that blossomed on Duncans face.

Uh It was another few seconds before he found his voice. M-maybe one of the other girls shes with?

And theres the coward weve come to know and tolerate, his Big Bro said with false warmth, clapping him on the shoulder. Mr. Data, your analysis?

Eager to serve his primary function, though he silently wondered why he only thought of it as his primary function when his friends called him Mr. Data, he scanned the small crowd of ladies and prepared to render judgment.

Okay, he began, totally in his element. The little China girl, who just never seems to shut her mouth, ranks a 205. Miss Bollywood is a solid 190, wouldve been more if she had that red dot thing that says shes already spoken for. Ginger chick, shes hot but meh, 125. Pale girl that looks disturbingly like she could be my sister gets a 175, but bear in mind that youre probably going to be thinking of me the entire time. Now, the other blonde starts off at 250, but Ill allow a bump up to 280 if you can provide photographic evidence of a true full-body tan.

Chuck nodded along with the assessments, then his eyes suddenly widened as one particular girl turned their way. It was only for a moment, but there was no doubt in his mind. He tapped his friend on the shoulder and gestured her way.

I think you should take another look at the redhead, Brent, he offered, casually.

For just about anyone else, that wouldve earned a twenty minute rant about the P.O.O.N. rating system and how any decision he made was final. The history between them was enough to get him to reevaluate, albeit grudgingly, his numbers.

Fine, he harrumphed. You want me to look again, Im looking again. Let me break this down for you. Her hair is worth 40, both for attractiveness and the stereotypical connotations associated with redheads. Shes lacking up top, so a 20 there. Perky, yeah, but the girl couldnt fill a B-cup without raiding the tissue box. Her faces been hidden by her hair pretty much since Ive been looking at her, so thats an absentee 5. The figure is pretty much her biggest selling point, her butt alone is worth the last 60 points. Shes either a cheerleader or a gymnast because you only see ass like that on holy crap its Kim Possible.

Im sorry, said Chuck, smugly. I dont think I caught that last part. Mind repeating it?

Thats Kim FREAKING Possible! the pasty collegiate practically squealed.

At this, Duncans eyes were glued to what had been a fairly unremarkable redhead only moments ago. With this new information, she was suddenly transformed into the single most unforgettable sight of his young life. Knowing somebody famous was going to your school was completely different from being in the same room with her. This is the sort of things you tell your kids about to prove that your life was interesting compared to the other dads in the neighborhood.

You know, provided she wasnt all old and ugly by then. Or maybe if she died young, but in some really spectacular way so that she stays famous.

Either way, good story.

A sharp click ended his wool gathering and he looked to see his Big Bro standing in front of him, hand in his face and ready to snap again.

Back with us? he asked with a smirk. Now, before you drown yourself with you own salivary glands, I suggest you listen carefully. If you plan on trying your luck with her, you should at least know whats at stake, besides last scraps of your pride of course.

Try my luck? Duncan parroted as if in a daze.

Youre the one who was so sure he could close the deal with any girl here, Chuck reminded him, suddenly sounding less insulting and more proud? As for points Brother Data? Whats a confirmed conquest of the world famous Kim Possible worth to you?

One hundred billion! he said with no hesitation. All-time high score, lifetime bragging rights, and I am officially your first disciple!

Duncan, meanwhile, was still trying to get his head around the concept of actually walking up to an internationally known crime fighter who had saved the world multiple times, introducing himself, and trying to get into her panties like she was any other cute little co-ed.

But any other cute little co-ed wouldnt have their picture in newspapers and magazines in more countries than he could name. Any other pretty little co-ed wouldnt have had her 18th birthday celebrated in fraternity houses all over the country, this one included, with a Shes Finally Legal party. No, this definitely did not fit into his established notions of reality.

Oh no Chuck wagged his finger, scolding him. I see that look and I know exactly what it means. Im not about to let you waste an opportunity like this. Listen, I havent been the best mentor to you. I can admit that. But there comes a time when you just have to do right thing. For me, the right thing is to send you over there with the knowledge that you have as much chance with her as any of these other guys. For you, the right thing is to go over there and make me proud.

His last words came with a slight mistiness of the eyes and a soft brush of his knuckles against Duncans chin in timeless go get em slugger fashion.

The younger man was stunned, infinitely more so than he was minutes before. Seeing Kim Possible was actually kind of tame compared to the idea of his Big Brother treating him with anything resembling respect. It was more than encouraging, it was downright inspiring.

Duncan held his head up high, squared his shoulders, and turned to face his destiny.

Then he turned again. This time, in the direction of the beverage station.

One quick beer. Then hed face his destiny.

The two upperclassmen watched his progress, what little he was making, wearing polar opposite expressions. Brent was the picture of shock and disbelief, eyes wide and face, as unbelievable as it was, paler than usual.

Are you out of your mind!? he said in a bizarre cross between a whisper and a screech. You sent Duncan out to bag Kim Possible? What the hell do you expect a second-year brother, one with no game to speak of I might add, to do in a situation like that!?

Exactly what I expect him to, Brent. Chucks smile seemed to stretch impossibly wide. Exactly what I expect him to.

Meanwhile, across the room by the unused fireplace, Kim and the other ladies continued to get to know each other better. Savannah was a complete lifesaver, stepping in immediately if she seemed to be at a loss for words. The others were great, for the most part.

Max, being the only other girl born in the U.S. besides Vannah and herself, had heard the most about Kims exploits but her New York attitude was enough keep any hero worship down to the barest minimum.

Mala struck her as being a kind and compassionate person, if a bit stiff and proper.

Lor was an experience to talk to, considering how free she was with certain topics that left Kim blushing worse than even her brothers had ever inflicted on her, but her sense of humor was as disarming as it was risqu.

Halle

She hadnt made her mind up about Halle yet. As much as their personalities clashed, the arguments theyd into in the last hour alone had turned into some of the most intellectually stimulating discussions shed had since coming to Harvard. Theyd probably never be each others maid of honor, but some kind of friendship was likely to form between them whether they wanted it to or not.

Its about time. Speak of the she-devil. Here I am, completely parched, and shes taking twice as long as I did when it was my turn to get the drinks!

Sorry. Kim pointedly looked at every girl except Halle as she apologized and handed out the drinks in their red plastic cups. There was a line at the table. Plus the only things that didnt smell like cheap liquor were the unopened bottles of soda, and I had to split three bottles six ways because thats all theyd let me take.

Always have to make excuses, dont you Possible? Halle shot back, then turned, snatched Malas cup right out of her hand, took a generous sip, and handed it right back.

Hey, what did you do that for? Kim asked, indignantly. I got you your own, you dont need to take anybody elses.

Im checking it for alcohol, she answered, smug like it was painfully obvious.

I already told you, I poured them myself from the bottles, she countered. I think Im competent enough to keep a drink from getting spiked in the fifteen feet separating us from the drink table.

Its alright, really, Mala herself cut in, cutting off whatever response Halle was planning. I dont mind.

Oh yeah, shes used to it by now. Max snickered a bit, which she failed to hide with her own cup.

You mean you do this a lot? The accusation came with a finger pointed at the future defense attorney.

Or I do. Savannah gently pushed Kims hand back down. Or Maxine, or Laurette, whoever happens to be closest. Trust me, Sugah, its for the best. Mala gets a little rowdy when she drinks.

Ill say, last time it took three weeks for the bruises to fade, muttered a momentarily less amused Maxine. Curse my flawless porcelain complexion.

Bruises? Now Kim was completely lost. You mean she attacks people when shes drunk?

The idea was preposterous. There was no way she could reconcile the image of a drunken brawler with the prim girl who was currently blushing as deeply as her skin tone would allow.

I suppose you could phrase it zat way, Lor giggled shamelessly at her friends discomfort. Mais non, it iz not what you think. Zee attacks are ow do you say it? Amoureux?

Amoureux? As in amourous? Kim thought, and reddened at the implications. You mean?

Liquor gets her horny, Maxine finished indelicately, her hand reaching back to rub her left buttock. I looked the other way so she could sneak a glass of wine, I wind up with five little finger-shaped bruises on my ass.

Oh! So, Malas a um which is fine, stammered Kim. Of course its fine. I mean, I was a cheerleader in high school. If I had a nickel for every time I walked in on two girls kissing And Ive even been asked to speak at the National Center for Lesbian Rights in San Francisco. Except they cancelled on me for some reason when they found out I wasnt bringing Shego, but I still fully support the rights of-

Shes not gay, Possible, Halle broke in, unwilling to listen to anymore.

Shes not? asked the redhead, before turning to the woman in question. I mean, youre not? Then why?

Because shes not that picky when shes had too much, Savannah explained. She had a few sips of champagne at my brothers wedding and I had to pull her off of three different groomsmen. And the minister we hired to perform the ceremony. Poor thing loses every bit of her inhibitions, and then shes positively mortified the second she comes back to herself. Shell spend a week crying and calling her fianc day and night to beg forgiveness.

Fianc? Suddenly Kim was less embarrassed for herself about assuming Mala batted for the other team, and more embarrassed for her new friend whos metaphoric dirty laundry was being aired in a party setting.

Back in Mumbai, said Lor, patting Mala gently on her shoulder. It iz an arranged marriage. E az been er fianc since zey were children.

Hes a wonderful person, really, Mala was quick to defend. I know arranged marriages are considered barbaric in your culture, but I believe the divorce rate in India speaks for itself. More than ninety percent of couples stay together for life. Less than fifty percent of Americans can hope for that much.

Kim bit back the speech about freedom of choice, even though she really wanted to give an opinion. Sure, she loved her parents, but letting them decide who she was going to spend the rest of her life with?

So not.

I only wish he wasnt so far away, lamented the pre-med. We grew up together. He even went to school in the same city as Ms. Laviters Academy so we could visit on the week-ends. His father got him a job at the State Bank of India, otherwise he would have come with me to Harvard.

The girls circumstances resonated deeply with the former teen hero. Its almost the same story as me and Ron. Except for the betrothal, the longer distance, and the raunchy drunken parts, theyre practically identical.

She was about to say as much when she felt someone entering into her personal space.

Hey Im , uh, feeling a little off today, came a voice from behind her that was both distinctly male and totally unfamiliar. W-would you like to turn me on?

Kim Possible was many things to many people but, as her authorized theme music clearly states, she is really just your basic average girl at heart. So, she did what any girl would do when presented with a pick up line like that.

What?

Turning to face her apparent admirer, she was immediately struck by, well by the smell of beer, mostly. The contents of the red plastic cup sloshing in his right hand, added to what was on his breath, was practically an assault to her nostrils. The rest of him wasnt quite as offensive, he was average looking, if little on the thin side, with black hair that hung over his forehead and eyes that probably looked beadier than they actually were because of how much he was blinking.

Hi, Im Duncan, he said, declining to comment on his previous statement. Can I get you a drink?

Um, no thank you. She lifted her left hand, the one holding her drink, to eye level. I already have one. See?

Uh He was visibly sweating now, which didnt improve the smell. You have really beautiful uh eyes, yeah. And youre you have a nice neck.

A nice neck? Thats the best you could come up with? Theyd never know it, but that was the thought going through all seven minds simultaneously. Well, one of them was thinking it in French, but still.

What Im trying to say His hand was shaking so badly that hed already spilled half of his beer. If you believe in walking by, no Do believe in love and walking no no NO!

Tentatively, Kim reached out her hand, not liking the way his eyes clenched shut, the speed and shallowness of his breathing.

Are you oka- her fingertips were nearly to his shoulder when shouted back.

JUST LET ME TALK, DAMNIT!

She flinched at the words, and she wasnt the only one. Around them, their corner of the party screeched to a halt. Old instincts were kicking in for the semi-retired crime fighter, only now she wasnt so much worried about him as she was about what she might have to do. Things probably wouldve degraded from there if it wasnt for one calm, gentle voice.

Duncan, youve had too much. I think you need to leave these ladies alone and sleep it off.

As one, they all turned to the newcomer. Tall, just shy of 64, with chestnut brown hair and eyes to match. He wore his blazer over a white turtleneck and pressed khakis. His soft tone conflicted with the hardness of his features as he looked at the smaller man in front of him. With a quick bow of his head to the gathered women, he took his fraternity brother by the arm and led to the stairs, pointing the way up to the living quarters. There was some muffled argument but, eventually, Duncan lost out and trudged up the stairs with his head hanging low.

Im sorry about all of this, he said as he got back, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. Older brothers are supposed to try and set an example for the younger guys, but some learn slower than others. He shouldnt be coming back down any time soon. Again, Im so very sorry. I promise that hes not the defining example of a Delta Iota Rho man.

Its okay, Kim spoke up, accepting the apology for all of them. Im sure he meant well.

I doubt well ever know what he meant. I think he was translating pick-up lines from Pig Latin at the end there, he joked, getting a short laugh for his trouble. Im Charles, by the way. Charles Holder. A pleasure to meet you.

Kim, she replied. Kim Possible.

Yes, I know, Charles admitted, sheepishly. I recognized you earlier. I think more than half the people here have recognized you by now. And I know they all appreciate what youve done for the world at large as much as I do. On behalf of the Deltas, thank you.

An easy smile was spread across his handsome face as he held out his hand.

Well, it was never just me on those missions, she clarified, then put out her own hand to shake his, firmly. but, on behalf of Team Possible, youre welcome.

Introductions continued all around. He was unassuming, but charming, even managing to greet Laurette in her native French. His Chinese was a little weaker, unable to give Halle anything more than a good morning in Mandarin. For Mala, he listed off menu items from his favorite Indian restaurant before apologizing and promising to learn more before their next meeting, something that got him laughs all around.

When he said that he hoped theyd enjoy the rest of the party, it really seemed that that would be the end of it. But then he turned back around.

You know, now that Duncans given it his shot, youre all a lot more likely to get hit on again, you especially, he said, looking directly at Kim for the last part. Its the sort of thing where everyone kept back because nobody wanted to go first. Even if he did make an ass out of himself, he also set the bar pretty low if you know I mean. If that sounds appealing, then great. But, if not, Id hate to see your night get ruined because some guys cant take a hint.

Taking a closer look around, Kim could see what he meant. There were more eyes focused on her then before, and their stares were hungrier. More demanding. And my typical freak fighting strategies could get me arrested for assault if I use them here.

Still, Charles continued, there is a way to avoid getting hassled.

And what would that be? asked Savannah, sweetly but with an edge of something that Kim couldn’t quite place, somewhere between curiosity, disbelief, and outright flirtation. You plan to play chaperone?

Well, in a manner of speaking, he grinned innocently. Im not very big into the party scene, I normally only come to these things to make sure nothing goes wrong. But, I am an older brother, a lot of these guys remember me looking out for them as they were coming up. If Im here, talking to you, theyll think Im trying to chat one of you up and theyll give me plenty of space.

And will you be chatting one of us up? Max wondered, voice soft and eyes wicked.

Not on purpose, he answered, refusing to match her tone. Obviously, youre all gorgeous. Id be lucky to date any of you, but I already said Id be doing this to keep you from getting hassled. What kind of guy would I be if I tried to take advantage of the situation by hassling you myself?

After a short group huddle to vote, they accepted the offer. Even thanked him for going to all the trouble for them. What they didnt know, was the answer to his question.

Simply put, the kind of guy it would make him was exactly the kind of guy he was.

Charles Chuck Holder, brother of Delta Iota Rho and the worst thing to happen to female college students since Girls Gone Wild.

WTOS

Looking out onto the makeshift dance floor, little more than a bare corner of the cellar with a raised stage that was really just a wine crate, Rufus could see why they referred to undomesticated animals as wildlife. Sure hed heard some things about what people did in mosh pits, but actually seeing one where fangs and claws were required made humans seem almost civilized in comparison.

On stage performing was a group of rock wrens, who had ironically named their band The Rock Wrens. They were little birds who tried to make up for their limited singing abilities by being as loud as possible. Thankfully, he could see a wood thrush warming up just beyond the crate, so the noise pollution would be over soon enough.

Daisy, meanwhile, had excused herself when she spotted a trio of shrews came in from night air. They were hanging around the entrance deep in conversation, stopping every so often to glance over at him and break into a fit of squeaky giggles. The mole rat waited patiently, leaning against an empty cask of amontillado wine. It wasnt until the wrens had finished their second encore, hed almost scampered over and broke out the kung fu tail whup on the mockingbird thatd called out for a third one, that the females made their way over.

The shrews were introduced as Daisys very best friends Naty, Ema, and Martie, or the closest equivalent to those names that a rodent could pronounce. Theyd been anxious to meet the field mouses hero so they could find out a few things for themselves. Rufus hadnt gotten the third degree this badly since a twelve pound wheel of cheddar had conveniently gone missing from the Stoppables fridge. Naty, especially, seemed ready to lash out at any little fault she could find. He wasnt all that offended, shrews will be shrews after all, but he eagerly accepted Daisys invitation to dance when the wood thrush finally got up to sing.

If he hadnt been raised among humans, Rufus mightve politely declined her offer. In the animal world, dancing served a very specific purpose. It sent out crystal clear signals of intent that could be read by any that saw it, the desire to mark territory, the desire to scare away competition, the desire to mate

Actually, when you get down to it, dancing in the human world really isnt all that different.

WTOS

So, this is part of the courtship ritual? Mac asked, eyes seemingly transfixed by the moving bodies on the dance floor. At what point does interaction with the females begin?

As long as youre here, never. Leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and his jacket draped over one shoulder, Steve glared out at the dancers, silently fuming.

Oh, come on! groused Ron beside him. You cant blame Mac for this.

The hell I cant, Stoppable, he shot back. Like my pops always told me, some guys are just plain bad luck. Aw for crying out loud Man, how do you screw up a pop and lock that bad!? BOO!

He cupped his hands around the sides of his mouth for emphasis, but nobody out on the floor seemed to care. Across the way, up against the far wall, young women by the dozens stood in various stages of boredom. Some were watching the dancers intently, others looked on with a casual interest, but most would just glance and scowl before turning back to her friends to complain.

On the main stage, the band looked to be about five minutes from calling the gig a washout. One guy was even on the phone to his aunt, seeing if it was too late for them to play his cousins Bar Mitzvah. Apparently, you dont need a live band when you bring your own stereo boom box.

I am unfamiliar with this terminology you use, Steve, said Mac, eyes shifting quickly between the irritated athlete and the spectacle in front of him. To pop a lock suggests safe breaking, the screwing implies the use of a drill. I see no evidence of burglary in the first place, let alone anything to support the idea that it is being done poorly.

You dont see a burglary? Steve asked in disbelief. What do you call that mess?

He gestured wildly with his hands towards the crime in progress.

I would call their actions dancing. Mac answered. I was not aware of any mess, beyond the increased degree of perspiration caused by their vigorous activity and the poor ventilation in this structure.

The dance floor had been cleared completely except for a handful of young men, all similarly dressed and all moving to the sounds of vintage hip hop.

In their hearts, they were legends. They gave themselves to the music; put it all on the line. They were swift. They were sure. They were confident.

They were b-boys.

They were fairly awful.

That, Steve said, pointing at the break dancing youths, is the unwarranted theft of my peoples culture, perpetrated by six skinny white boys with no rhythm!

Yeah, they suck, agreed a fullback Ron hadnt formally met. And, cause of them, nobody gets to dance, which means none of us are gonna score tonight, which means this whole thing was a huge waste of time!

Again, Im uncertain as to your reasoning. Macs entire focus was on the dancers, now, as if to look for some hidden truth. I was made aware of the involvement of rhythmic movements done to accompanying harmonic patterns in the courtship process; Ron explained that much earlier tonight. These males have been fulfilling this behavioral requirement for the past fifty-three minutes, fourteen seconds. I fail to see what is preventing the advance to subsequent stages of the proceedings.

Blank looks all around, which is not surprising considering that while definitely a cut above the typical scholar-athlete, none of the players had taken graduate level anthropology. Ron, being the roommate and keeper of his fellow Miski student, finally spoke up.

Mac, Im not really sure what any of that means, but the reasons most of these guys came to this thing, yourself included, was to meet girls. Now, yeah, theres dancing involved, but it doesnt work for you to just be standing here watching other people dance.

Then were meant to participate? asked Mac.

Yes! Ron said, excited that his friends seemed to be getting it. Participation is most abso-tively posi-lutely key here.

Ah, I suppose that makes sense. The male must prove to the female that he is fit to breed by engaging in this physically demanding display of agility. The understanding on Macs face slowly faded as he made another observation. But, if that is the case, why is it that no females have approached them so far?

Ron palmed his face with a loud slap. He was about to try again when Steve opted to explain it himself.

Because theyre not dancing with chicks, man. Theyre just dancing. Heres the deal. Men come to these things to get laid, get busy, perform the courtly courtship ritual, or whatever else you call it. Yeah, we dance. We dance to impress women. Yeah, we drink. We drink to get brave enough to ask women to dance so we can impress women. Women, now get ready for this, they come here for the exact same reasons we do. The difference is that they can still have a good time just drinking and dancing if theyre not impressed enough. Theyll settle for that if we cant get out there and show em that were worth their time. Now, are you feeling me, Mr. Thesaurus? Cause I cant explain it any simpler than that.

So, in order to progress to effective interaction with these women Mac looked deeper in thought than anyone outside of a quantum physics classroom had any right to be. We must be allowed to dance with them.

And, for once, were on the same page, Steve said without smiling. Not that it makes any kind of difference, unless somebody can get those wannabe jackasses to pack up and go home.

With that, he slumped back against the wall, silently lamenting their situation. The other players all seemed to share his sense of hopelessness.

All but one, that is.

Gentlemen, he said, tone harsh and face serious. Get ready fill up those dance cards. Those b-boys are going down.

Hell yeah! shouted an overeager defensive end. We can take these guys easy! On three, we grab em and take em out to the alley behind the dumpster. I call the one in the fake gold chains. Okay one two

Whoa, wait STOP! Rons serious face dropped for a second as he put a restraining hand on his teammate. I didnt mean going down like hey, lets start a fight and get kicked off the team, out of school, and into a state correctional facility going down.

Then what, I dont why? he murmured, visibly deflating at the loss of his opportunity for violence.

Yeah, Ron, said Steve, looking interested. What did you have in mind?

Guys, he began, looking at each man in turn. I wasnt always like this, the suave, mature man of the world you all know.

He ignored the spontaneous coughing and continued.

Back in high school, I even had a little trouble fitting in. I know, shocking. So, yeah, I wore the baggy pants with too many pockets. I bought man jewelry and referred to it as bling. And yes, I have said the words Im a bon-diggety dansah! Those guys out there, I know them. I know how they think; I can get inside their heads. And theres only one thing their attention-whoring, Ebonics-thieving minds are gonna understand. So, are you guys with me?

Some nodded. Most still hadnt gotten over the bon-diggety dansah comment.

Steve, are you with me, man? he asked.

At this point, Ron, Im down for whatever, the taller man answered, indifferently. I figure thisll either get them out of here, or itllx wind up blowing up in your face and I get a good laugh. Im good, either way.

Hey! he cried, indignantly. Youre probably right, but still. Look, I gotta go talk to the band, but when I get back

In hushed tones, he told his friend the general outline of the plan, along with what he expected Steve to do and when to do it. There were a few raised eyebrows but, in the end, he would go along with it. One fist bump later, Ron was on his way over to the stage where the musicians were all in various stages of irritation and boredom.

It took some convincing, they were going to get paid for the gig regardless after all, but they all got on board after he paid their five-dollar song request fee. Ron left, muttering about sell-out mercenaries, but thrilled that hed guessed right and this particular cover of the well-known tune was part of the bands repertoire. He wasnt sure whod covered the song originally, he wanted to say Extra-Terrestrial Roach Motel but that was way off, but it didnt matter right then.

It was time to go to work.

All at once the music stopped, some of the dancers actually trying to pause in mid-maneuver before falling very painfully. Every eye in the place was on the stereo, then on the foot that rested on the power button. The owner of the foot stood silently, arms folded. His blond head was cocked to one side and a single eyebrow arched, eerily similar to a certain professional wrestler turned legitimate thespian.

You suckahs mus be outside yo minds, bringin this weak sauce up in ma house! he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. Who yall think you is, anyway?

The b-boys traded looks of confusion. It was obvious that nobodyd ever approached them like this, let alone straight up insulted them. Eventually, one of them broke off stepped up, puffing out his chest and looking down his nose at the interloper. Under his sideways ball cap, you could just make out his fade haircut that, thanks to his bleached hair and pasty complexion, looked more like a skin condition than a fashion statement.

We Da Thunda from Unda Crew! he shouted proudly, oblivious to the fact that the name could be a euphemism for flatulence. So who you be, comin in an messin up da flow, chump?

You aint got skillz enough to know ma name, son! Ron leaned forward, his closeness and volume forcing the crews spokesman a step back. All you gotta know is I want you and your little pixie scout troop off my dance floor!

Y-yeah!? the apparent leader squeaked, before stepping forward again and rebuilding his bravado. Well we aint leavin this hizzy less you can make us leave, foo!

Well awwwriiiiight! He grinned like crocodile, ignoring the growing pain in his throat. Jeez, I forgot how loud you have to talk to fit in with these schmucks. And to think, this is where I couldve ended up if it wasnt for Kim. She is so getting something from Country Club Banana for our next halfa-versary. Its ON!

And, like the throwing of the gauntlet, war was declared. They couldnt back out, not without resigning themselves to shame and dishonor. Because it was on. Those were the rules. Who had written them, why they were expected to follow them, nobody knew. They only knew that it was something bigger than them.

The Code of the Poser.

You got no crew, the spokesman said, voice suddenly low and serious.

I gots all I need, Ron answered in the same tone. Winner stays. Losers walk. We go by how loud it gets up in here, you feel me? You ladies go first.

Again, they had no choice but to comply. Snatching the boom box from under Rons foot, the shaken youth went back to his friends and the six of them huddled up. The conference was short, it didnt take them long to choose their weapon. Setting their stereo down a few feet in front of them, they faced their opponent in a line and waited for the beat to start.

What followed might actually be too horrible to describe. Imagine watching an army of fire ants marching over carcasses of fallen puppies. Imagine the sound of a million chainsaws slaughtering a million veal calves all at once. Imagine the wailing cries of all the circles of Hell as they flood with molten lead and the blood of the damned boils in unspeakable agony.

Now forget all that and imagine five idiots doing variations on the robot while a sixth idiot does clumsy somersaults in the background. This would devolve into what they thought was a synchronized routine, filled with freezes that didnt freeze, rocks that didnt rock, and airs that never got more than three inches off the ground.

For their big finish, they brought out a motorcycle helmet. Nobody wanted to think about where theyd been hiding it, Ron least of all. The smallest member of the crew put it on and the rest of them gathered around as he went down for a very shaky headstand. After about a minute of false starts, the little guy finally moved his hands away and gave the signal. Working as one, the others took hold of his arms and legs and tugged him into a spin. He was completely surrounded, removing the possibility of him falling over but limiting the overall speed of the maneuver. Still, it was the most impressive thing hed seen from them all night.

Now thats a depressing thought Ron mused.

It ended with a brief smattering of applause from the assembled crowd. Da Thunda From Unda Crew looked cocky, thoroughly pleased with their performance. He can only hope he was never that deluded in high school, though hell admit that he probably wasnt that far off.

He says nothing, only turns to the stage and points to the drummer, who raises his sticks in the air and does a quick four-count. Immediately the guitarist launched into a biting riff, distortion pedal down to the floor as he ground out some familiar opening notes. Ron stood there for a long moment, then let out a quick breath and broke into a dead sprint to where Steve was waiting, leg braced behind him and both hands palm-up on his thigh.

The former sidekick didnt even slow, gasps rising from the partygoers as they waited for an impact that never came. Without breaking stride, Ron stepped up onto his teammates waiting hands only to be lifted up with every ounce of strength the lanky guy had in him. He flexed at just the right moment and was sent into a back flip easily twenty feet in the air. Still on the rise, he tucked and rolled once, twice, again and again before he straightened up just in time to land with a thud that everyone gathered felt through the soles of their shoes.

Eyes widened as they began to process whatd just happened. Standing there as if nothing had happened, Ron slowly brought a hand up to his head, drawing attention to the white fedora that had appeared there as if by magic.

Off to the side, Steve had a big grin on his face as he stood, his do rag now uncovered since his friend snatched off his hat in mid-flight. It was all coming together now. A white jacket and a white hat with a black band. There was no doubt in his mind what was coming next and, just at that moment, his suspicions were confirmed as the first lyrics of the song blared out of the speakers.

As he came into the window

Was a sound of a crescendo

He came into her apartment

He left the bloodstains on the carpet

Tugging his new hat down over his eyes, Ron went from standing still to a flurry of movement. His feet moved fluidly, hips and shoulders in perfect harmony. Anyone could see these moves for what they were, an homage to the King of Pop.

She was sitting at the table

He could see she was unable

So she ran into the bedroom

She was struck down

It was her doom

Head down, one hand on his hat and the other behind him and out wide from his body, Ron began the quintessential technique made famous by the original writer of the song. Putting out one leg as if to take a step forward, he let it slide back underneath him before taking a similar step with his other leg. It was exactly what everyone suspected, but no one suspected what he was going to do next.

Annie, are you OK

Are you OK

Are you OK, Annie

Annie, are you OK

You OK

Are you OK, Annie

Annie, are you OK

You OK

You OK, Annie

Annie, are you OK

You OK

Are you OK, Annie

The term pop and lock refers to a dancer tensing and releasing joints and muscles so that they freeze in place between every movement. Even as Ron continued to moonwalk, the liquid smoothness of it was suddenly broken up. Ron was alternating moments of tension with movements so fast that you could barely see them. This was no ordinary pop and lock, this was a human strobe effect. At the last Annie, he threw himself backwards on his outstretched hand and exploded into a series of one-handed back handsprings.

Annie, are you OK

Will you tell us that youre OK
There
s a sign at the window

That he struck you

A crescendo, Annie

He came into your apartment

He left the bloodstains on the carpet

Then you ran into the bedroom

You were struck down

It was your doom

The last handspring shifted into a one-armed freeze, his body locked in what wouldve been called a handstand if his body hadnt been practically sideways instead of straight up and down. Sensei said I couldnt use my Monkey Powers on the football field, but he never said anything about using them at parties, Ron thought, eyes glowing blue behind the dark hat band.

Swinging his legs around, he alternated his hands on the ground while his feet arced through the air like a gymnasts on a pommel horse. It was actually a mimicry of the Di Tang Quan ground tumbling boxing style of kung fu hed learned as a supplement to his Tai Sheng Pek Qwar training at Yamanouchi.

Annie, are you OK

You OK

Are you OK, Annie

Annie, are you OK

You OK

Are you OK, Annie

Annie, are you OK

You OK

Are you OK, Annie

Youve been hit by

Youve been struck by

A smooth criminal

Hed told the bad to skip ahead to the instrumental ending at this point. It time for his big finish. One final twirl of his legs and his feet shot up into the air, leaving him in a ramrod straight headstand. With a quick jerk of both arms in opposite directions, he was spinning. Faster and faster his arms pushed him into the spin, until the momentum was so strong that he folded both arms over his chest and began flinging out his legs to keep it going. Hearing the instrumental winding down, he pulled out the last stop and shot his right arm up, or down depending on your perspective, to push himself off the floor and into the air.

Youve been hit by

Youve been struck by

Corkscrewing upwards, he righted himself at the top of his arc and shot down, faster than gravity shouldve allowed. One arm still tight against his chest, he used his free right hand to flick the brim of his hat up and away from his eyes.

A smooth criminal.

He winked a now brown eye at the break dancers in front of him, all six standing wide-eyed open-mouthed at what theyd seen. They were still like that a few seconds later when the cheers erupted from either side of them. Clapping, shrill whistles, and general shouts of amazement were almost deafening in the enclosed space.

Ron lifted a single hand and made a cutting motion and the cheering died down. With the same hand, he made an approach gesture behind him, a signal hed worked out earlier in the planning stages. Still walking like chafed bull-rider, Mac broke off from the crowd of footballers to stand beside his friend and roommate. He looked at the six challengers before him, took a deep breath, and spoke.

You have gotten served.

Meh, close enough. Ron smiled and shrugged, putting an arm around Macs shoulder.

Another cheer rang out, and Da Thunda From Unda Crew walked away with heads hanging and shoulders stooped, probably off to drown their sorrows in wine coolers from their moms refrigerators.

My people! Ron shouted, arms raised like a victorious gladiator. Whatre you all just standing around for? Lets DANCE!

The band shot him a grateful look before finally getting to the first song on their playlist. On the dance floor, mobs of young men and women met like waves crashing in the ocean, quickly forming into a single pulsing mass of bodies.

My hat! a familiar voice from behind shouted suddenly, snatching the item of clothing off Rons head. What the hell did you do to my hat!?

Ron got his first good look at the once pristine fedora as it lay cradled in Steves hands. The top was now completely flat, having lost its trademark angular shape, and the dull gray color from the all the ground in dust clashed with the bone white sides and brim. Hed just opened his mouth to apologize when he found himself completely surrounded by close to a dozen fine examples of feminine hotness.

They were all pressed up against him as tight as they could, saying things that ranged from youre such a good dancer to that was so amazing and do you want to dance? to do you want to get out of here? to I know a stall in the mens room here that actually locks. Meet you there in five minutes? Somehow he managed to keep a clear head in the midst of all of it, and thought of a way he might be able to pay his friend back for the damaged apparel.

Steve, man, I am so sorry about your hat! he said, sending all eyes to his taller compatriot. I thought I could pull off that last move without hurting it, but I guess theres still a lot for you to teach me about dancing.

Wait, you taught him all that? one of the girls asked, suddenly looking at Steve with new eyes.

You bet he did, Ron answered, not giving his buddy a chance to deny it. Taught me every move I know. And Im so honored he was still willing to teach me after his tragic injury.

Yeah he echoed uncertainly. My, uh my injury.

His entire dancing career, cut down in its prime, Ron continued, laying it on thick. And all because he saved a box full of kittens from being run over by that eighteen-wheeler. Now he has to go with his Plan B, playing college football for an Ivy League university.

Aww, you poor baby, one of the girls lamented, rushing to Steves side where she was joined by the others. Thats the saddest thing I ever heard.

Youre so brave, added another, softly stroking his cheek. And so sweet, teaching your little friend how to dance.

Well, I heh Steve, looking out at the sea of beautiful faces looking at him with a mix of awe and desire, couldnt help but grin. Its no big deal, really. Im just trying to leave the world a little better than I found it, you know? Hey, why dont we all talk some more back at my dorm room? I can tell you about some of my old glory days.

As Steve made his way to the door with his new entourage, he looked over his shoulder and mouthed an emphatic thank you to Ron before giving him a thumbs-up, which Ron happily returned. Needless to say, neither of them was feeling all that bad about the hat.

Well Mac, old buddy, he said, reaching up to ruffle his roommates hair. The partys saved and a potential fedora crisis was averted. All thats left for us to do tonight is find you a girl to dance?

His words trailed off, his voice fading to nothing, as he looked across the crowded floor into a shadowy corner of the building. It was impossible, what he was seeing, it had to be. But there they were, shining emeralds in the dark. In the dimness, he couldnt make out anything else, not a single thing except those eyes. Eyes hed know anywhere, even from this distance.

Kim? he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

And just then, as if shed heard him, she stepped forward into the light, and he saw. But what he saw only left him that much more confused. How do you react to seeing the eyes you fell in love with staring out of a strangers face?

Okay, time out! Those are not KPs eyes. Ron shook his head furiously, as if to shake the thought from his head. A lot of girls have green eyes. This is just a severe case of girlfriend withdrawal. He looked again, intent on proving that this girl looked nothing like his best friend and partner. And sure enough, aside from the eyes, he couldnt find a trace of Kim no matter where he looked.

Not when he looked at the girls tanned complexion, much darker than Kims ever was. No, this girls flawless skin reminded him of soft, creamy caramel, of rich coffee with milk. It was much closer to Bonnie Rockwallers luscious tan, or the dusky features of his one-time crush, Zita Flores.

No trace of red in hair, either. Not a single strand of auburn in the flowing black locks. He watched as it swayed behind her, reaching down to the curves of her hips, as it shone like handfuls of diamonds thrown across a blanket of silk. He felt his hand twitching. It never failed, seeing hair like that, wanting to run his fingers through it. Even when the hair had belonged to Shego.

And speaking of Shego, the curves this girl sported were much closer to the green-hued villainess own hourglass figure than they were to his girlfriends more modest frame. In his mind, he could contrast the two easily. Especially considering what she was wearing to cover those generous assets. Hed seen almost the exact same outfit on Kim more than a year ago, and her little black dress hadnt stretched over her body like this. No, not like this.

He felt a tugging in the back of his mind. Like a small voice whispering to him that something wasnt right. This same feeling often warned him, too late, that his pants were down around his ankles, but that wasnt it. Didnt stop him from checking, though, experience taught him not to ever take that for granted. No, something else was off. Maybe the green-eyed girl knew. Was that why she was coming this way?

Wait, shes coming this way? That same tugging tried to turn his head, to make him walk away. Unfortunately, his conscious mind was occupied as he watched her walking towards him. Specifically, he was thinking about all the times people had accused him of being unable to stand still for any length of time. Theyd always had this insulting tone theyd use to say it, but he had to wonder. If they could see what he was seeing

She was always in motion. Never hurried, but never hesitating. Not fast, but smooth as dripping honey. As she came closer, the crowd seeming to part between them, she added the slightest of rolls to her hips on each step. The movement flowed to a natural rhythm, one that he couldve almost swore he heard. He looked over at the stage when he realized he really did hear something.

The drummer tapped out the beat, his sticks hitting the metal rim of one of his drums, giving it a sharper, snappier sound. Suddenly, the guitar player who hadnt previously shown any evidence of knowing more than three chords, let out a lick worthy of Carlos Santana. Ron wouldve been more impressed by it if the guy hadnt been hamming it up so much, looking down at his hands like he was shocked that he could play that well.

When he turned his head again, he finally noticed that the crowd actually had parted, no one standing closer than ten feet away from the raven-haired beauty. She wasnt coming towards him anymore, but that didnt mean shed stopped moving.

The roll of her hips had upgraded to a full gyration in time with the syncopated rhythm that saturated the room. Her hands glided upwards across those hips to her sides, then slithered up and around the swell of her breasts before they met at the nape of her neck and continued on up into her hair. Her body swayed like willow branches in a gentle wind.

The tempo picked up, gaining energy, and her feet started moving again. The guitar wailed over the amplifier as she went into a routine that wouldnt have looked out of place in a music video. Every step was bold, confident. Her hair fanned around her with every spin, seeming to float on the air. Weightless. Effortless. And no matter what she did, her green eyes always came back to him.

And then, with a final flourish, it was over. The partygoers whooped and whistled, the male population anyway. Ron barely heard it. He was slightly more concern by the fact that she was walking his way again.

No, check that. Bounding his way. Bounding in a way that caused certain things bounce. Certain things that left a consummate distraction professional feeling distracted.

oMe mir usted?

Wha huh? Ron articulated, blinking rapidly to clear the haze.

Shed apparently stopped her bounding and was standing less than three feet away. Standing face to face, he was genuinely surprised at what he saw. She was beautiful, of course. But he couldnt see any of the conceited smugness hed come to expect from gorgeous women. If anything, she looked giddy. Her emerald eyes shining with excitement as her red lips wore a smile of pure joy.

Did you see me? she repeated in lightly accented English. I saw you dance. QFantstico! I never saw anyone move like that before.

Ah well, I dont know about that, he said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. I bet theres a lot of guys that could do those moves.

He wasnt lying. He left out the part where the guys who could do them were super villains, ninjas, or mystically empowered mole rats, but he wasnt lying.

Oh no no no! she exclaimed, shaking her head and taking another half step forward. Its so much more than what you did. A monkey could do that.

Ron bit down the urge to whistle nonchalantly. Lady, you dont know how right you are.

Its how you did it, she continued. Passion, freedom. You show your soul when you dance. It was beautiful.

There was something all too familiar shining in those familiar eyes. Ron felt a surge of panic which was, for him, also very familiar. He needed an out, quick before she got her hopes up too high. A drop-dead sexy girl dances up to me in the middle of a crowded party and starts giving me the eye, and my biggest problem is figuring out how to let her down gently. When did this become my life?

Glancing to his left, he realized to his joy that they werent alone. His roommate, bless his big awkward heart, was still standing right next to him. All it would take is another strategically placed fib and his other new Miski friend would be set. Mac was a great guy; shed like him just fine.

Hey, if youre into dancing, my buddy Mac here taught me everything I- he began, but stopped when he heard a sharp noise from beside him. The closest thing he could compare it to would be a cough, but there was something decidedly unnatural about it.

Actually, Ron, I believe Ill be returning to the dorms, now, the lanky student stated firmly, his eyes never leaving the girls face. I appreciate all of your assistance tonight. There is much to process tomorrow, so it would be prudent for me to rest beforehand. I can secure my own transportation, dont worry about that. Good night.

With that, he backed away. He didnt turn, not until hed already reached the exit. Hed stared at her the entire time, almost like he was afraid to look anywhere else.

Aw, cmon, Mac, Ron whined internally. I thought we were past the low self-esteem thing. Youre never gonna get back in the dating scene if you run every time you see a pretty girl.

Im really sorry about that, he said, turning back away from the door his friend had used. Look, um I dont think I got your name.

Yidhra, she practically purred, holding her hand out palm-down for him to take. Yidhra De Siempre.

Yidhra? he repeated. Thats a new one on me. Ive never met a Yidhra before.

Its an old family name, she explained. Its wasnt common back home in Havana, either.

Well, good to meetcha, he said, nervously. Im-

I know who you are, Ron Stoppable. She cut off his introduction and, when she said his name, she seemed to taste it.

And she rolled the R in Ron. He loved the sound of his name pronounced that way. It was one of the main reasons hed crushed so hard on Zita back in high school. He forgot he was still holding her hand until he felt her bring up her other hand to trap his in between, lightly stroking his knuckles.

Dont look so surprised, she scolded him playfully. The whole world should know who you are by now, si? Even back in Cuba they would put your picture all over the telenoticias or in the newspapers. Ron Stoppable the hero.

This did not compute.

You mean Kim Possible the hero, right? he said in disbelief, even as he gently took back his hand. Or maybe Ron Stoppable the sidekick? I know we never took any missions in Cuba, all that political junk, but I really dont think they couldve gotten the facts that mixed up.

And I dont think they mixed up any facts at all, said Yidhra, warmly. But you are dodging my question. Did you see me dance?

Y-yeah, I saw it, he stammered. Shed inched in as she asked it, now barely a foot of space between them. Youre really good. And this is coming from a former member of his high school cheer squad, so you know I know what Im talking about. Badical moves.

Im glad you liked it, she half whispered. I danced for you, Ron. Only for you.

Huh. Well thats thats just huh.

He wanted to step backwards, make some distance, but there always happened to some couple dancing just behind him every time he tried to take a step. All of a sudden, the intense look hed seen on her face faded to something decidedly more impish. With a giggle she pirouetted in place, and then stepped around to the now empty space behind him. It was the sort of thing he wouldve expected from Tara back home in Middleton. Hed always admired the platinum blonde cheerleader for her carefree, playful attitude, way before hed ever even begun to suspect she might be interested in him.

So she drawled, speaking into one slightly oversized ear, then the other, then back. You dance for me And I dance for you Now we must dance together, si?

Si I mean no! he sputtered as she darted back in front of him and stared expectantly. Look Yidhra, you seem like a really nice girl. And youre pretty and youre talented and any guy in here would be crazy not to be interested. But, the thing is, Im with somebody.

Is she here? asked Yidhra, playfulness seeming to drain out of her tone.

Well, no but-

Then, whoever she is, she is not here to dance with you. I asked you to dance, not to ravish me in the alley. Or did you think that Im the type of chica who takes every man I dance with into my bed?

No! shouted Ron, hands up to reinforce the denial. I dont think that at all, its just-

Shh! She silenced him with a slender finger pressed to his lips. No more words. QBailamos!

And with that she turned around, but not before grabbing both of his hands to place on her hips. He didnt remove them. Oh he wanted to but, if there was one weakness that Ron had never quite overcome, he still had trouble saying no to an assertive female. As horrible as shed treated him back at Middleton High, Bonnie and her domineering tude had gotten to him in ways that werent completely unpleasant.

Besides, it was just dancing. Right?

A good distance away by a far wall, three sets of eyes watched as Ron started just dancing with his new acquaintance. Two looked worried, even as the third wore a secret smile. The peroxide blond spoke to her sandy-haired friend.

How can you be so blas about this, Marie, she asked. First you stake a claim on that guy in front of all the other girls on the squad, and now you dont even seem upset to see him dancing with some Flamenco floozie!

Marie smiled wider and shook her head, blonde ringlets dancing across her shoulders.

Melanie, you should know me better than that, she chided her friend. If I wanted that boy in my arms at this moment, my arms are where he would be. I have plans for him, but I wont make my move until Im sure its the right time. The only reason I told you and the others to stay away is that Id feel so much worse if I had to steal him away from one of my precious friends. Youre not thinking of changing your minds on me, are you ladies?

Of course not, Marie, Melanie said emphatically. We promised. Right Teri?

The brunette beside her nodded, but stared back out onto the dance floor with something like longing.

We did. Never woulda guessed hed give me a reason t regret it. Teresa lamented, her soft Cajun accent showing through. Coo, dat boy can dance. Big sister always said, find a man dats magic on his feet, he gonna be magic offa dem.

Would that be the same sister that ran off with her rumba instructor? asked Marie.

Just shows you she been practicin what she preaches, she shot back with a wicked grin. Now I know bout you femmes, but I dont plan t sit and cry over dat boy when theres plenty others to pick from.

Teresa, I think you have something there, her friend and longtime squad captain agreed, taking both girls by the hand and leading them onto the floor. Laissez les bon temps roulez!

Even as Ron started to get into the dance, he got the sense that he wasnt doing all the leading. It was confirmed when he found himself pressed up against the stage where the band members were hastily clearing a space. He looked at his dance partner, his brows raised in confusion. Her response was to throw her arms around his neck and jump, forcing him to catch her in a bridal carry. She tilted her head towards the stage and, oblivious as he might be, he got the message. A microseconds worth of Mystical Monkey mojo in his leg muscles and he had them both on stage in a single leap.

Okay he said, completely conscious of all the people now staring at them. What now?

He let her down, despite her reluctance, and she put out a dainty hand. The lead singer practically fell over himself to hand her his microphone.

You want to know what happens now? she asked, throwing him a wink over her shoulder. Oye

The band roared to life, a quick tempo tune with Latin flavor. Quick as a striking cobra she snatched his hand and dragged him up flush against her. The mic was suddenly at her lips and she let out a shout.

Sal-SA!

Yidhra moved against him, the beat seeming to flow out of her and into his own body. Almost without even trying, he matched her. His feet tapped in time with hers and their hips moved in tandem.

Mi salsa es caliente!

Mi cuerpo pide – oye!

Mi cuerpo pide – oye!

Oye! Oye! Oye!

The music soared as she broke into the chorus. Her voice rang out, caressing the ears. Ron wouldve bet his last naco that Brittina couldnt have aced those notes even in her prime.

Oye mi cuerpo pide salsa

Y con este ritmo

Vamos a bailar

Oye mi cuerpo pide salsa

Y con este ritmo

No quiero parar

She turned now, bringing them face to face again and moving so that their audience saw them in profile. Their dance became a kind of call and response. He would dance her backwards, she would do the same. As the first verse rolled off her tongue, she kept her eyes on him.

Hey boy, I see you lookin’

I know you’re watchin’

But you won’t make that move

Oye, I know you want me

I’m trying to show you

There’s no way you can lose, oh baby

C’mon over here and give me what I want

If you don’t know how, I’ll teach you fast

We don’t have to worry ’bout tomorrow now

I know that I want you and I want this night to last

She spoke to him, even as she sang. They werent her words, he was pretty sure hed heard this song sometime in the mid-90s riding in the car with his mom, but Ron couldnt help but worry that she meant every bit of it. While she sang another round of the chorus, he tried his darndest to keep a picture of Kim in the front of his mind. She was the one he wanted, the one he loved. This was nothing, just a friendly dance.

Oye mi cuerpo pide salsa

Y con este ritmo

Vamos a bailar

Oye mi cuerpo pide salsa

Y con este ritmo

No quiero parar

Thoughts like that went immediately out the window as she threw herself back, forcing him to lunge and catch her in an improvised dip. Shed kicked up her left leg when shed done it and, in a show of flexibility, she was now resting her heel on his shoulder. When she started the second verse, she pulled herself in closer to him without lowering her leg. Catcalls echoed through the room as she inched further and further into a standing split, their pelvic areas closer to touching with every passing second as he felt her smooth calf glide along his chest.

There now, a little closer

Just hold me tighter

And you’ll be doing fine

Ron was fairly sure that holding her any closer would see them arrested for public indecency.

Ronnie! (ahhh) that’s what you feel like!

He almost did a double take when he heard her improvised line. A blush spread over his cheeks when he heard her gasp rather suggestively after saying his name.

You warm my body

Just like the bright Ronshine

At this point, he fought the urge to clean out his ears. He had to have heard her wrong because, unless hed missed something, Ronshine hadnt exactly made it into the general vernacular.

Everytime i touch you I feel no worries

I discover things I never knew

Feeling this desire coming over me

Can no longer fight it I just want to be with you

They were almost nose to nose, the microphone brushing against their chins. Her voice had gotten lower, huskier, the further she went. Those green eyes seemed to look through him, inside him, deeper than hed ever thought possible

Possible

Kim, he breathed, snapping out of it and leading his partner into a quick spin. It had the desired effect, as they were no longer pressed up against each other. She wagged a finger as if to scold him, but the smile never left her face as they went back into their dance to finish out the song.

Oye mi cuerpo pide salsa

Y con este ritmo

Vamos a bailar

Oye mi cuerpo pide salsa

Y con este ritmo

No quiero parar

No quiero parar

No quiero parar

The microphone dropped to the floor with a thud as the last strains of the song faded. The deafening applause and shouts for more went ignored as Yidhra led her new friend downstage to a short set of stairs. Ron marveled at the way the crowd parted again, the ones closest to them giving the space even as the people behind them pushed to get closer.

They stopped at a particleboard folding table covered in drinks, specifically iced water. Unlike the alcoholic drinks being sold across the room, these were free and were there for a specific purpose. One Yidhra seemed to have firmly in mind as she handed him a full glass and took one for herself.

Drink, she said in a no-nonsense tone of voice. Youre overheated. I dont care if youre not thirsty, the body doesnt register thirst until after its already dehydrated.

He was bringing the clear plastic cup to his mouth when he saw her reach into her own water and pull out one of the larger ice cubes. Without so much as a may I, she pressed it to Rons forehead, melting water soon mingling with the beaded sweat. He froze, in a way totally unrelated to actual cold, as she rubbed it against both of his cheeks before she withdrew her hand brought the ice to her own brow.

If you were to ask Ron Stoppable what his first truly sexual experience was, hed tell you about the time Kim Possible, under the effects of Cyrus Bortels Moodulator, had him pressed up against his locker with her tongue exploring his mouth.

In this case, he would be lying.

Rons first experience of a sexual nature happened about three years earlier, the summer immediately following his Bar Mitzvah. Yes, there was a Possible involved. Yes, she had red hair.

No, she wasnt Kim.

Hed been outside in the Possibles backyard, helping his best friend finish her weekend chores early by pulling weeds and spreading fertilizer. The sun was hot, unusually so for the small Colorado town, and had opted to wear the hockey jersey Kim had got him for that special thirteenth birthday. Anne Possible shouldnt have been surprised at that, Rons mother had complained that the boy only took it off when she forced him to let her wash it.

The result was, in the good doctors opinion, the early stages of heat exhaustion. Shed led him by the hand into the kitchen and peeled off the oversized red and white shirt. She herself was only wearing a tank top and shorts.

Between the two of them, they got him up onto the counter where she handed him a glass of ice water and told him to drink, citing the exact same reasons Yidhra had just given him. Then shed gotten another ice cube out of the freezer, brushing it over the boys sun-reddened face to help cool it down faster.

When she was confident that his temperature had normalized, she used the cube on her own face, not wanting to waste it. She relished in the sensation. Her hand traveled downwards, dragging the ice first along her neck, then over her collarbone, then just a bit lower. She didnt think twice about the teen staring at her with nearly bulging eyes, so in the moment shed forgotten he was there. So, when a thin sliver was all that was left of the ice, she didnt even hesitate as she popped it into her mouth, letting out a happy sigh as the last of it melted on her tongue.

Ron had hopped off the counter so fast hed blurred, squeaking out an excuse about mole rat feeding schedules in a cracking voice.

Hed never mentioned that day to anyone, not even Mrs. Dr. P. And now, here he was, watching as gravity took hold on the droplets of water that pooled where the ice was melting against her warm flesh. Watching as the ice circled down and down until it reached the black fabric of her dress neckline.

This moment of his life, recreated so completely in surreal dj vu, could only mean one thing as far as Ron was concerned.

Bad road Miles and miles of bad road.

WTOS

Smooth Criminal

by Michael Jackson

covered by Alien Ant Farm

Oye!

by Gloria Estefan

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