Conception - a story told
in forty weeks
By TheCentauress
AUTHORESS' NOTE: Yes, this is a Ranma fic. However, this is a multi-crossover
as well. As the story goes on, the various other series will have their cameo
appearances. Needless to say, the end result will more than likely shock the...
well, you get the general idea.
DISCLAIMER: Yadda, yadda, don't own it, mumble, mumble, don't sue...
Chapter 1 - days 0 through 28
Ranma locked her jaw tight as she ran to the toilet. She would be dammed
if she were to loose control over Kasumi's well cleaned floors. As she ran
toward the porcelain monument, she allowed the part of her mind that was not
either panicking or concentrating on reaching her goal to wander over the past
month. Little would she have thought that, less than a month ago, she would
have been in _this_ situation....
-FLASHBACK-
She ran, as if the hounds of Hell, rather than her rivals and fiancees,
were dogging her erratic path. Between the lot of them, she had been
alternately drugged and beaten; her body, in an effort to try and heal both the
exotic chemicals inside and the cuts and bruises and swelling outside, was
slowly being effected in ways that were strange for even her.
She felt both hot and frigidly cold; panicked and strangely detached.
The air she gulped at moments was as sweet as honey then as arcid as burning
plastic. As she stumbled about, she was unconsiously searching for something...
Rounding a corner, she bowled over a tall man, dressed in dark
clothing. He was apparently, to the last of her clouding sight, carring a
cane or bokken, she couldn't tell...
-----------
Consiousness returned slowly. She propped herself up onto her abraded
elbows and took stock of herself. Achy, check; Sore, oh yeah. Even her...
there... was trobbing dully. She was even sitting in ... a puddle ... a sticky,
cold ... puddle.
Her scream was heard clear to the other end of the island.
-----------
As she leaned against the Nekohanten's wall, she stated at the beautifully
hideous features of the cro... multi-great grandmother that, to her knowledge,
was the best source of information on the entire island - probably the best
source on the _planet,_ at that.
Said matriarch who, at this precise moment, was grumbling in what
sounded like a trash compactor trying to process a serving of Akane's jello.
"Gouhl," she said in a gentle, soft voice. Cologne just growled and
continued on in her rant. "Kol Lon!" she tried again, to have her switch to Hindi.
"***GRANDMOTHER!***" she screamed. This finally worked; the withered Amazon's
tirade cut off as if on a stereo without current. The little old woman drew in
a extremely deep breath, sighed, then pulled out her clay pipe and lit it
with a miniscule spark of chi.
Her head wreathed in bluish-grey smoke, the tri-centurian leveled a
flat gaze upon her. "Child," she grumbled, "in the time I've been alive, you
have been the one thing that has kept my old ticker humming like a Swiss
pocketwatch. Your ability to turn a liability into an asset has left _me_ in
awe. That learning talent, frankly, can and _will_ one day make you a great
leader. But your blind dumb luck, frankly, will make me want to kill you
horribly by the end of the week."
She tensed herself, until the next words came from the Chinese woman's
mouth. "Matriarch Ranma, the nations of the Amazons are at your disposal
in finding your attacker. Notice has been sent to the Brazillian and Greek
colonies, as well as the Chinese, and the members of your tribe will be
chosen from the best warriors, fenale _and_ male, to start the Japanese
branch. The resources of this resturant and its' contents are the seeds of
your tribe."
She was baffled. "Wazzat?" she squeaked.
Cologne bounced her head against the tabletop a few times. "Ranma,"
she growled into the formicaed surface, "you are with child. And, as much
as you may argue otherwise, I'm partly to blame."
Screaming, she found, is quite catharic.
END FLASHBACK
Ranma let her cheek rest against the cold porcelain, as she tried
to collect the shreds of her consiousness for the day. Yep, it'd only been
four weeks; even though her body was still hiding the suprise that was in
store for their fathers, it seemed that the females in the house had wised
up to what was happening, at least subconsiously.
Even, she admitted with a bit of awe, _Akane_ got the suliminal
message....
-FLASHBACK-
Ranma sat in the dining room, her heart beating at a trip-hammer
rate. From the smells snaking from the kitchen, there was at least _one_
dish that had been cooked by her tomboy fiance. As much as she really
_didn't_ want the little parasite growing inside her, she felt that
poisoning the little squiggler was low.
She growled at her father. The fat, lazy bum had been hassling
her for the entire week about being stuck in her female form; calling
her a weak, spineless female for not trying to move Heaven and Earth to
break whatever had locked her like this. She'd be dammed if she'd tell
him just yet exactly _why_ she wasn't able to change. If that fat, honorless
fool were to find out what she was carrying around, well...
A scream of rage, typical of her fiance, shocked her from her
downwardly spiralling thoughts. As she listened close, her jaw began to
drop in amazement.
"Kasumi, why didn't you TELL me that my cooking was so VILE-TASTING?!?"
the youngest Tendo screamed. After her sister's inarticulate murmur, her
voice emerged again, only slightly lower. "You actually _taste_ it as you
cook it? Alright, then; I'll try to make it again. Mizo soup shouldn't be
gelatinous, right? And it really shouldn't be trying to escape either."
The facefault was classic; how often does an event like this
_really_ ever come up in this household?
END FLASHBACK
A chuckle escaped her lips, as she rinsed off the soap from her body.
Since that day, the quality of the tomboy's cooking had improved by leaps
and bounds. Instead of being industrial strength rat poison, the output of
her efforts was now nearing the level of her own efforts. True, the occasional
bad dish did slip through, but it was bad in the sense of it being bland or
burned or just undercooked; still quite edible in comparison to her older
efforts, even if it wasn't quite right.
Sliding her body into the steaming furo, she drew in a deep breath.
The subterfuge has worked alright; that is, until the point where the Tendo
sisters put the pieces together...
-FLASHBACK-
As Ranma was shuffling past Kasumi's room, a hand shot out and
grabbed the redhead's pigtail, pulling the hapless girl into the darkened
room. Before she could react, she was deposited onto the bed and the
three girls were sitting around her.
The eldest led off the interrigation. "Why," she enquired in a soft,
level tone, "would you stay female for the last four weeks?"
Before the redhead could reply, her intended spouse cut in. "You've
been sick to your stomach the last week," she noted. "Are you coming down
with the flu?"
This time, Ranma was able to shake her head from side-to-side before
she was hit with the next bombshell. "You're pregnant, aren't you?" the
middle Tendo sister made it almost a statement. She hesitated a long moment,
then just gave a single downward jerk of her chin. *Here it comes,* she
thought to herself. *Rejection and dishonor, figures.*
The next action shocked the tiny woman to her core. Instead of the
three others lashing out at her, or turning away, the trio engulfed her in
a warm, loving hug.
Before she could even finish her gasp, Akane spoke up. "Ranma," she
said in a voice more suited for Kasumi, "I know that this isn't your fault.
Of anyone, you're the _least_ likely to do something this perverse."
At that moment, the dam on her feelings shattered. With a silent wail
of relief, she poured out all the pain, grief and hopes for the future to
the three sets of waiting ears.
For the remainder of the evening, the only time that the conversation
strayed away from motherhood was to ask just why they had not been disturbed
by the fathers. To Ranma's surprise, Kasumi grinned evilly and held out a
tiny bottle. "Perfect for any occasion, Ranma-chan," she chortled. "Sodium
chloralhydrate, the refreshment that pauses."
After a catharric moan, the girls continued their planning.
END FLASHBACK
As Ranma pulled her body from the still-steaming water, Akane slid into
the tub room. THe dark-haired girl's expression was unreadable as she pulled the
towel from around her body.
"What's happening?" the redhead enquired.
As Akane sat down and began washing off, she gave a long-suffering
sigh. "Baka-chan," she grumbled, "the bimbette is here."
Her eyes wide as she began to shred the towel she had just taken, Ranma
gulped. "Why??!" she squeaked so shrilly that Bess, the neighborhood dog
whined from the yard a half mile away.
Oh, Kami; why do I feel the urge to leave these cliffhangers in my
stories..... ^_^'
in forty weeks
By TheCentauress
AUTHORESS' NOTE: Yes, this is a Ranma fic. However, this is a multi-crossover
as well. As the story goes on, the various other series will have their cameo
appearances. Needless to say, the end result will more than likely shock the...
well, you get the general idea.
DISCLAIMER: Yadda, yadda, don't own it, mumble, mumble, don't sue...
Chapter 1 - days 0 through 28
Ranma locked her jaw tight as she ran to the toilet. She would be dammed
if she were to loose control over Kasumi's well cleaned floors. As she ran
toward the porcelain monument, she allowed the part of her mind that was not
either panicking or concentrating on reaching her goal to wander over the past
month. Little would she have thought that, less than a month ago, she would
have been in _this_ situation....
-FLASHBACK-
She ran, as if the hounds of Hell, rather than her rivals and fiancees,
were dogging her erratic path. Between the lot of them, she had been
alternately drugged and beaten; her body, in an effort to try and heal both the
exotic chemicals inside and the cuts and bruises and swelling outside, was
slowly being effected in ways that were strange for even her.
She felt both hot and frigidly cold; panicked and strangely detached.
The air she gulped at moments was as sweet as honey then as arcid as burning
plastic. As she stumbled about, she was unconsiously searching for something...
Rounding a corner, she bowled over a tall man, dressed in dark
clothing. He was apparently, to the last of her clouding sight, carring a
cane or bokken, she couldn't tell...
-----------
Consiousness returned slowly. She propped herself up onto her abraded
elbows and took stock of herself. Achy, check; Sore, oh yeah. Even her...
there... was trobbing dully. She was even sitting in ... a puddle ... a sticky,
cold ... puddle.
Her scream was heard clear to the other end of the island.
-----------
As she leaned against the Nekohanten's wall, she stated at the beautifully
hideous features of the cro... multi-great grandmother that, to her knowledge,
was the best source of information on the entire island - probably the best
source on the _planet,_ at that.
Said matriarch who, at this precise moment, was grumbling in what
sounded like a trash compactor trying to process a serving of Akane's jello.
"Gouhl," she said in a gentle, soft voice. Cologne just growled and
continued on in her rant. "Kol Lon!" she tried again, to have her switch to Hindi.
"***GRANDMOTHER!***" she screamed. This finally worked; the withered Amazon's
tirade cut off as if on a stereo without current. The little old woman drew in
a extremely deep breath, sighed, then pulled out her clay pipe and lit it
with a miniscule spark of chi.
Her head wreathed in bluish-grey smoke, the tri-centurian leveled a
flat gaze upon her. "Child," she grumbled, "in the time I've been alive, you
have been the one thing that has kept my old ticker humming like a Swiss
pocketwatch. Your ability to turn a liability into an asset has left _me_ in
awe. That learning talent, frankly, can and _will_ one day make you a great
leader. But your blind dumb luck, frankly, will make me want to kill you
horribly by the end of the week."
She tensed herself, until the next words came from the Chinese woman's
mouth. "Matriarch Ranma, the nations of the Amazons are at your disposal
in finding your attacker. Notice has been sent to the Brazillian and Greek
colonies, as well as the Chinese, and the members of your tribe will be
chosen from the best warriors, fenale _and_ male, to start the Japanese
branch. The resources of this resturant and its' contents are the seeds of
your tribe."
She was baffled. "Wazzat?" she squeaked.
Cologne bounced her head against the tabletop a few times. "Ranma,"
she growled into the formicaed surface, "you are with child. And, as much
as you may argue otherwise, I'm partly to blame."
Screaming, she found, is quite catharic.
END FLASHBACK
Ranma let her cheek rest against the cold porcelain, as she tried
to collect the shreds of her consiousness for the day. Yep, it'd only been
four weeks; even though her body was still hiding the suprise that was in
store for their fathers, it seemed that the females in the house had wised
up to what was happening, at least subconsiously.
Even, she admitted with a bit of awe, _Akane_ got the suliminal
message....
-FLASHBACK-
Ranma sat in the dining room, her heart beating at a trip-hammer
rate. From the smells snaking from the kitchen, there was at least _one_
dish that had been cooked by her tomboy fiance. As much as she really
_didn't_ want the little parasite growing inside her, she felt that
poisoning the little squiggler was low.
She growled at her father. The fat, lazy bum had been hassling
her for the entire week about being stuck in her female form; calling
her a weak, spineless female for not trying to move Heaven and Earth to
break whatever had locked her like this. She'd be dammed if she'd tell
him just yet exactly _why_ she wasn't able to change. If that fat, honorless
fool were to find out what she was carrying around, well...
A scream of rage, typical of her fiance, shocked her from her
downwardly spiralling thoughts. As she listened close, her jaw began to
drop in amazement.
"Kasumi, why didn't you TELL me that my cooking was so VILE-TASTING?!?"
the youngest Tendo screamed. After her sister's inarticulate murmur, her
voice emerged again, only slightly lower. "You actually _taste_ it as you
cook it? Alright, then; I'll try to make it again. Mizo soup shouldn't be
gelatinous, right? And it really shouldn't be trying to escape either."
The facefault was classic; how often does an event like this
_really_ ever come up in this household?
END FLASHBACK
A chuckle escaped her lips, as she rinsed off the soap from her body.
Since that day, the quality of the tomboy's cooking had improved by leaps
and bounds. Instead of being industrial strength rat poison, the output of
her efforts was now nearing the level of her own efforts. True, the occasional
bad dish did slip through, but it was bad in the sense of it being bland or
burned or just undercooked; still quite edible in comparison to her older
efforts, even if it wasn't quite right.
Sliding her body into the steaming furo, she drew in a deep breath.
The subterfuge has worked alright; that is, until the point where the Tendo
sisters put the pieces together...
-FLASHBACK-
As Ranma was shuffling past Kasumi's room, a hand shot out and
grabbed the redhead's pigtail, pulling the hapless girl into the darkened
room. Before she could react, she was deposited onto the bed and the
three girls were sitting around her.
The eldest led off the interrigation. "Why," she enquired in a soft,
level tone, "would you stay female for the last four weeks?"
Before the redhead could reply, her intended spouse cut in. "You've
been sick to your stomach the last week," she noted. "Are you coming down
with the flu?"
This time, Ranma was able to shake her head from side-to-side before
she was hit with the next bombshell. "You're pregnant, aren't you?" the
middle Tendo sister made it almost a statement. She hesitated a long moment,
then just gave a single downward jerk of her chin. *Here it comes,* she
thought to herself. *Rejection and dishonor, figures.*
The next action shocked the tiny woman to her core. Instead of the
three others lashing out at her, or turning away, the trio engulfed her in
a warm, loving hug.
Before she could even finish her gasp, Akane spoke up. "Ranma," she
said in a voice more suited for Kasumi, "I know that this isn't your fault.
Of anyone, you're the _least_ likely to do something this perverse."
At that moment, the dam on her feelings shattered. With a silent wail
of relief, she poured out all the pain, grief and hopes for the future to
the three sets of waiting ears.
For the remainder of the evening, the only time that the conversation
strayed away from motherhood was to ask just why they had not been disturbed
by the fathers. To Ranma's surprise, Kasumi grinned evilly and held out a
tiny bottle. "Perfect for any occasion, Ranma-chan," she chortled. "Sodium
chloralhydrate, the refreshment that pauses."
After a catharric moan, the girls continued their planning.
END FLASHBACK
As Ranma pulled her body from the still-steaming water, Akane slid into
the tub room. THe dark-haired girl's expression was unreadable as she pulled the
towel from around her body.
"What's happening?" the redhead enquired.
As Akane sat down and began washing off, she gave a long-suffering
sigh. "Baka-chan," she grumbled, "the bimbette is here."
Her eyes wide as she began to shred the towel she had just taken, Ranma
gulped. "Why??!" she squeaked so shrilly that Bess, the neighborhood dog
whined from the yard a half mile away.
Oh, Kami; why do I feel the urge to leave these cliffhangers in my
stories..... ^_^'