Keywords: Romance
Rating: uhm...PG, I think
Distribution: Anywhere as long as you let me know where you put
it.
Send feedback to: mrsinister@mailhost.chi.ameritech.net
Authors Notes: This fic assumes that Tommy and Kimberly got back
together at least a year ago, and are living together. In
addition, this has nothing to do with "Becoming.", in
anyway.
Authors Notes: This fic is dedicated to Symbolic Agony, who
wanted to see if I could write something that could possibly be
shown on daytime television. Let me know what you
Kisses
By Ozmandayus
White Falcon Dojo
Saturday, October 14, 2000
Angel Grove, Ca
<Uh oh, here we go again,> Tommy thought to himself as
Kimberly walked over to his desk on the other side of the room
from where she was working in. "What is it, Kim," he
asked with a smile. He has turned his personal office at the dojo
into a double office, complete with her own desk and computer on
the other side of the room.
Kimberly watches him with a shadow of a grin on her face, but
says nothing as she reaches in a folder she was holding and
pulled out an envelope that had no markings on the outside.
Without saying a word, she hands him the envelope and walks out
the door. Not bothering to wait for his reaction.
Tommy leans back into his chair, and pushes his computer keyboard
out of the way. Taking a deep breath, he wonders what is the
purpose for this letter. <Me and Kim have been doing fine
lately. I can't think of anything I’ve done to get her
mad,> Tommy muses to himself. <Lord knows letters have
never signaled anything good in our relationship.>
When Jason won $300.000 dollars in the lottery, he built two
martial arts schools. The Red Dragon and the White Falcon. The
Red Dragon is in Santa Monica, Ca, where Jason and Emily now
live. Tommy and Rocky run the White Falcon , since they both
still live in Angel Grove.
Kimberly has been teaching the seventh grade at Irving Elementary
for the last year and a half, while she goes to college
part-time. When she first returned, she purposely avoided Tommy,
not quiet ready to face the man who's heart she broke. But Billys
twenty-second birthday party began the start of their new
friendship with a quite talk on a balcony. Then, at Katherine's
going away party, as she had just landed a two-year dancing
contract in New York City, signaled the beginnings of something
new.
Their first kiss in almost five years took place that night.
About three weeks later, they were an official couple again.
Seven months after that, they moved in together.
Tommy contemplates all these things as he twirls the envelope
Kimberly left him in his fingers. He, in all honesty has no
reason to believe this is bad news. But Tommy has always been
weary of relationships ever since Kimberly broke up with him
years ago.
Now that they are reunited, he is even more caughtious, knowing
that he is not sure if he could take losing her again.
Finally, he opens the envelope, and pulls out the letter inside.
<<Tommy,
When I was thirteen, I used to write love letters. I'd sit in the
room when my parents left, and I'd write these letters, me with
my terrible braces, the hair I hated, and the growing body I was
ashamed of. I'd quote famous literary poets, or sometimes I'd
quote awful poems I'd written myself, and I'd fill them with
wonderfully flowery declarations of undying love and eternal
fidelity.
That was the hidden world of Kimberly Hart. The one I kept
separate from the spunky, valley-girl, cheerleader life I lived
in public.
My letters never got sent, of course. Well, I sent one of them,
once, to a boy named Steven, who had blonde hair and could beat
me at running, but that's a story for another time.
Sending them wasn't the point. In a house that at the time,
consisted of me, my parents and my Aunt Meredith and her two
sons, I didn't dare hide them. Instead I'd tear them up, or, if I
was in a particularly angst-ridden and dramatic mood I'd burn
them.
I haven't written anything that could be called a love letter
since then, so bear with me. I'm not even sure this qualifies as
one, for that matter. I've never poured out the innermost secrets
of my teenage soul on a Bugs Bunny notepad one of my students
left in class.
What I wanted to say is this: I saw you stealing those
Hershey’s Kisses with the peanuts from my coat pocket this
morning.
I know you thought you'd gotten away with it, but it was hardly
the perfect crime. I would've noticed that they were gone sooner
or later. When a whole bag of delicious chocolate goodness goes
missing from a womans pocket, she's bound to notice. Besides, if
you're going to steal food from me, you should at least wait till
I'm not only out of the room, but until I've closed the door
behind me.
That little smudge of chocolate just below the right-hand corner
of your mouth is also a dead give-away. Didn't you notice Rocky
suppressing a laugh when you walked in the dojo.
A serious criminal act such as theft may have untold
ramifications for the victim. The biggest of those ramifications,
for me, is that I haven't been able to concentrate on my work for
the last twenty-four minutes, since I noticed that tell-tale bit
of chocolate, because I've been sitting here thinking about how
much I'd like to get out of my chair, walk over there, bend down,
and lick it off.
Such little things you undo me with, even after all this time. Do
you realize that. Some days I have to stop and take a deep breath
when I look across at you and see that you still don't understand
what you do to me.
So here's what we're going to do. In ten minutes time, when the
hands on my watch hit 11:00 AM, I'm going to get up, place this
on your desk, get my jacket and briefcase and go home. When I get
home, I expect your car to pull up in our building parking lot no
more then ten minutes behind mine. Tell Rocky you need the
afternoon off. Then you're going to take the elevator to our
apartment, and you're going to come inside, and I'm going to have
whats mine.
I'm going to have that chocolate.
Then I'm going to kiss you Tommy, and you'd better make the most
of those stolen goods in the car on the way over, because when we
kiss, I want to taste the smoothness of chocolate and the clean,
honest taste of peanuts. I want to taste it on your lips, on your
tongue, on the ribbed roof of your mouth, just where it tickles
you when I touch with the tip of my tongue.
You're going to taste like everything good from my childhood,
from before I shed tears over anything but broken toys and
skinned knees. Like peanut butter sandwiches, cold glasses of
milk, like gummi bears my dad would sometimes buy me at the
drugstore if I'd been very good, like splashing in puddles with
Trini, or playing cowboys and Indians that one time with Zack,
when he let me be the cowboy with him instead of getting tied to
Billys lawn-chair and scalped with my own tomahawk.
You're going to taste like everything I remember as being good
and honest and true about life, just like you always do, and I'll
fall in love with you all over again, just like I did when I saw
that incriminating smear of chocolate on your oh-so-innocent
face, I'll remember why it is I love to touch you, and
there’ll be no more tears, and I won't feel so bad for that
poor, gawky girl sitting in her room writing hopeless love
letters.
But tomorrow morning, I'm going to make you get out of bed early
and go to the store to get me another bag of Hershey’s
Kisses with Peanuts before we go to church together.
Kimberly.>>
Tommy can only sit back in his chair and grin. <How is it that
she has written both the best and worst letters I've ever
recieved.> He gently folds the letter, and tucks it into his
desk, for those days when he and Rocky do the books and he needs
a pick-me-up.
Looking at his watch, he rises from his chair and grabs his car
keys. A quick run to Rockys office and he's off.
<She wanted Reese’s Cups, right?> he mused on the way
to the car.
******
True Ranger fans know of Tommys horrible memory.
The End.
<Come on, Ms. Agony, was it really that bad?
🙂
al kËœ