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Disclaimer: I /DO NOT/ own Kim Possible, or any characters contained herein, Kim Possible, and all related characters are property of Disney Entertainment, the Playboy Mansion is the property of Hugh M. Heffner, Playboy, the Playboy bunny logo, and Playmate of the Year, are owned by Playboy Enterprises Inc. The storyline is mine, I make no profit from this.




Centerfold

Starring

Kim Possible

Ron finally gets a good job after losing a photographer's position at the Los Angeles Times, shooting Centerfolds for Playboy, but the job becomes even more interesting when Kim becomes one of his subjects.






Chapter 1
The Lost Job



Just Once in my Life

by

The Righteous Brothers


There's a lot of things I want,

A lot of things that I'd like to be,

But girl, I don't foresee,

A rags-to-riches story for me,

There's just one little dream, I got to make come true,

There's just one round I got to win,

I can't be a loser with you,

And baby, baby, Just once in my life,

Let me get what I want,

Girl, don't let me down,

Just once in my life, let me hold onto,

The good thing I've found,

Don't let me down,

Baby say that you'll be stayin',

'Cause I couldn't face the day,

If you weren't here by my side,

And if you went away,

Then I'd be left without any pride,

I've given up on schemes,

'Cause every one fell through,

I've given up so many things,

Don't ask me to give up, on you,

And baby, baby, Just once in my life,

Let me get what I want,

Girl, don't let me down,

Just once in my life, let me hold onto,

The good thing I've found, Don't let me down,

Baby say that you'll be stayin',
That old pot of gold,

Ain't so easy to find,

But if you'll stand by me,

Girl, I'll keep peace of mind,

I can't give you the world,

But I will fall for you girl,

I will call (out your name)

On my mind (if you will stay)

If you won't leave me (Please don't leave me)

Please don't leave me (Please don't leave me)

Just do this for me (Baby!)

Once in my life,

Let me get what I want,

Girl don't let me down,

Just once in my life,

Let me hold onto,

The good thing I've found, don't let me down,

Baby say that you'll be stayin'.

Ron Stoppable stood in front of the desk of the Editor-in-chief of the Los Angeles Times, he was shocked into stunned silence when he got the news that he was being released from the paper he so faithfully took photos for during the last two months, the last set of which earned him the Pulitzer Prize for photojournalism,

"/WHY ?/" Ron demanded, staring daggers at the portly, balding elder man sitting in front of him,

"Remember the Policeman's Ball ?" the editor asked, "I asked you to shoot it, and schmooze with the guests, but you never showed up."

"I told you to find someone else, I don't know how to dance, and I'm not a P.R. director, I'm a photographer." Ron said just as hotly,

"I gave you an assignment, Stoppable, and you choose not to show up, so you, and your assistant, Flagg can find another place to work." the editor said, now standing, and motioning to the door,

"You know, you'll live to regret this, Don, there's no way in hell I'm going to let you forget this." Ron said,

"I've heard it all before, Stoppable, and you won't be the last person that tells me this." the editor said, now grabbing Ron by his shirt collar, and unceremoniously tossing him out of the office,

"What happened, Ron-man?" Brick said, he had been waiting outside of the glass fronted door, and could tell that Ron's blood pressure was rising every second he stayed in the building,

"Let's just get out of here, Brick, they don't want me, or my camera, so I'm going elsewhere, there's more than one newspaper, or magazine in town that's looking for a good photographer." Ron said, turning his back on a newspaper that had been his meal ticket for the last two months.
It was two months prior to this, that Ron and his friend, Brick Flagg arrived in Los Angeles, looking for a job, so that Ron could call his fiancee, Kim Possible out to the west coast, and finally settle down, and start a life of their own,

"We got canned, didn't we?" Brick asked, looking at Ron,

"Yeah, all because I refused to cover the Policeman's Ball." Ron replied, an uncharacteristically sour look on his face,

"I told you, Ron, I could've covered it for you, I know how to dance, and you've taught me how to handle the equipment." Brick began, but he was cut off by Ron, raising his hand for silence,

"Now what." Ron said,

"We could always call . . . " Brick began,

"I know what you're going to say, Brick, and the answer is no . . . I don't want to impose on him." Ron stated flatly,

"Ron, we need something to pay the bills." Brick said,

"I know, give me a couple of weeks, I'm sure I'll find something." Ron replied.




One week later:

Ron had been searching for a job for a full week, but so far, he had found nothing more than a few freelance gigs here, and there, he was all but ready to admit defeat, when the telephone rang, he sighed, thinking that it was another bill collector, but got a huge surprise,

"Ronald Stoppable." asked a very sexy female voice on the other end,

"If this is not an insanely beautiful redhead by the name of Kim Possible, I'm hanging up right now." Ron replied,

"Even if it's for a job offer?" the woman asked, this instantly peaked Ron's interest,

"Talk to me, what do you got?" Ron asked, his attention now completely focused on the voice on the other end of the line,

"I represent a company that has need of talents like yours, and they're willing to pay top dollar for your services." the woman said,

"Well, stop on by my apartment, and we'll hammer out all the details." Ron said,

"Actually, we have a car on the way to pick you up, and bring you here, where the deal can be discussed by my boss." the woman said,

"Who's your boss?" Ron asked,

"You'll know soon enough." the woman said, then, without saying another word, she hung up the phone,

'/That was the weirdest phone call I've ever got/.' Ron thought to himself as he hung up the phone.

No sooner had Ron hung up the phone, that a loud horn sounded, like a train whistle going off. He peered out the kitchen window of the apartment he shared with Brick, and saw something he couldn't believe.

Parked in front of his apartment, was a long black limousine, painted on the rear doors, plainly visible, was the logo of one of the most famous gentleman's magazines in the world, Playboy.

"You've got to be joking me." Ron said, shaking his head as he left his apartment, and got into the car.

"Hello, Mr. Stoppable, I'm Julie McCollough, Miss January 2005, I've been asked by Hef to take you to the mansion, where he's waiting on you." a beautiful blonde sitting in the back seat said,

"O-Kay, where's the joke?" Ron asked, looking around,

"No joke, Mr. Stoppable, Hef is very interested in your services." Julie repeated,

"Okay, I guess I'll bite." Ron said, easing himself into the seat across from the beautiful blonde in the car with him,

"Katrina, take us back to the mansion, please." Julie said, now catching the attention of the driver, a beautiful brunette,

"On it, Miss McCollough." the driver responded, and in a twitch of the gear selector, and a quick depression of the accelerator, they took off, and were heading for a meeting with one of the most famous men in the world, the ultimate bachelor himself, Hugh Heffner.


The Playboy mansion:

Ron walked into the mansion he had only ever seen in pictures, and was completely amazed that what he had seen of it wasn't enough.

"This way, Mr. Stoppable." Julie said, motioning Ron to a long corridor, and to a door near the end of it, which had the initials H.M.H. in the center of it,

"This is Hef's private office, he's waiting for you." Julie said, motioning to the door, which Ron took hold of, and opened,

"Ah, Ron . . . come on in, and take a seat," said the only occupant in the room, Hugh Heffner,

"Hey, Hef, sorry I never came over, or called, but I've been rather busy." Ron said, in an embarrassed way,

"I'm not disappointed in that, Ron, but I am disappointed in the fact that after you lost your job with the Times, that you didn't look me up, I would've given you a job here in a second." Hef replied,

"How did you find out?" Ron asked, looking at the editor-in-chief of one of the most well-known men's magazines in the world,

"Do I have to explain it . . . I have connections in the journalism world, and a mutual friend of ours told me about the editor of the Times tossing you out on your ear, of course." Hef explained, rather calmly,

"Sorry, but I really didn't want to impose on you." Ron said somewhat sheepishly,

"Nonsense, my boy, you wouldn't be imposing on me at all." Hef replied, waving Ron's apology off quickly,

"So . . . what's the deal?" Ron asked, looking at Hef and giving the elder man his undivided attention,

"Just like your grandfather, you don't play around . . . I served with him in the Army, you know," Hef replied, reminiscing on how he, and Ron's family became so tight over the years, then, focusing on the task at hand, he turned back to Ron, and got a serious look on his face, "I'm willing to pay you forty thousand dollars a week for your services as senior staff photographer, and centerfold photographer, I have another position open, but we'll get to that in a moment, so, what do you say?"

"What do I say," Ron said, looking at the man that was almost like a grandfather figure to him, "where do I sign up?"

"I'll have the proper paperwork ready for you to sign in a moment," Hef said, puling out his ever present pipe, and smiling as he lit it up, "now, I seem to have a bit of a problem, I don't have a centerfold model for this months shoot, and I'm running out of time . . . I have two-and-a-half weeks before I have to go to print, centerfold, or not . . . do you have any ideas?"

"Well, I know that you prefer exotic females for those, gimme a minute," Ron said, thinking hard, his mind finally locked onto one person in particular that would fit perfectly into Hef's plans for a Playmate centerfold, "well, there is one person, but getting her to pose might be a bit tricky."

"How's that?" Hef asked,

"Well, she's in Federal Prison at the moment . . . Shego." Ron replied,

"Shego . . . the international assassin-for-hire . . . the one that you and Kim caught a couple of years ago?" Hef asked,

"That's the one . . . so far, she's been a good girl, but trying to get around Global Justice might be a bit tricky, Dr. Director can be one tough cookie." Ron explained,

"Leave Betty Director to me, Ron, I think I can put the old Hef charm on her, and make her see reason." Hef explained with a wry grin on his face.



Two days later:

Ron was still waiting on word about Shego, when Hef walked into the makeshift office that Ron made out of one of the several bedrooms that dotted the mansion,

"We're on . . . but there's one string attached." Hef said, looking at Ron, and smiling,

"You got the deal? How?" Ron asked,

"Nothing's set in stone yet, there's a catch." Hef replied,

"What is it?" Ron asked,

"Dr. Director wants a private shoot, and she wants to keep the negatives, something about tarnishing her porfessional standing within GJ itself." Hef explained,

"She wants a private photo spread?" Ron repeated,

"Yep, and you're the photographer, son." Hef said, to Ron's complete shock, and dismay,

"How long before I have to go back to Middleton?" Ron asked, looking at Hef,

"Not Middleton, she's a little closer, the GJ regional headquarters in Parker Center, two floors up from the main Police headquarters." Hef explained,

"Alright, I'll call her, and let her know I'm on the way." Ron said, reaching for the telephone at the small desk in the room, and dialing a number.


Parker Center, downtown Los Angeles, location of Central Police headquarters, and regional headquarters of Global Justice:

Ron had walked these halls before, as a member of the local press, but now he was a photographer of a major publication, and a respect photojournalist, and he was about to shoot himself in the foot, and take a nude photo spread of the head of Global Justice herself,

'How did I let Hef talk me into this?' Ron thought to himself, as he reached Dr. Director's office, and knocked,

"Enter." came the familiar voice of Dr. Director from the other side,

"Morning, Dr. Director, you know why I'm here." Ron said, looking at the woman in front of him,

"Indeed I do . . . take a seat, and I'll tell you the deal I reached with Mr. Heffner as to Shego's release." Dr. Director said, motioning to the chair in front of her desk, which Ron sat down into, and turned his attention to the woman in front of him,

"The deal is very simple, you are to take a photo spread of me, which I will keep the negatives, if I like what I see, then I will release Shego into Mr. Heffner's custody, with one condition, she will not be allowed to leave the Playboy mansion without an escort."

"That's it?" Ron asked,

"As you know, Mr. Stoppable, I can be a hard person to please . . . the photos must be to /MY/ liking, not to Playboy's Editor of Photography." Dr. Director said,

"Ironic, I AM Playboy's Editor of Photography." Ron said, smiling slightly,

"Well, I believe that we should get started, the sooner, the better." Dr. Director said, now standing behind her desk,

"Agreed, let's get this over with." Ron said, now unpacking his camera from the huge duffel bag that was slung over his shoulder.

He watched closely, as Dr. Director reached into a drawer of her desk, and pulled out a box, turning her back on him, he watched her pull off the ever present eyepatch, and reach into the box, a few seconds later, she turned around to reveal to Ron, that she had two perfectly matched eyes.

"Glass eye, huh?" Ron remarked,

"Yep, I really don't like wearing it that much, because it gives me headaches, but just this once, I'll let it slip." Dr. Director said, reaching for the zipper that kept her jumpsuit closed, Ron suddenly gulped loudly, as she stepped out of the outfit, to reveal her nude body for the shoot.