Disclaimer: Ranma ½ and its characters do not belong to me.

AN: Oh yeah, you're gonna like this one. I love this chapter! Also, a shout out to the first few readers of the last chapter hailing from the countries of Portugal, India, US, and Italy.


No more pussyfooting around: a Ranma ½ fanfic

By Indygodusk


Chapter 28: Girl Talk and The Competitive Kiss

"Oh," Akane breathed out as she stared down at her clasped hands. Ranma had always yelled about not wanting to marry anybody, but he'd never said something specific about that to Akane, especially not in private. This sounded almost like a declaration. Akane wanted so badly to ask him just who he did want to marry then, if not Shampoo, but she couldn't get the words out over the pounding of her heart.

She'd just opened her mouth to say something, when they were interrupted by a small cough. "Excuse me, Akane?" said a hesitant female voice.

Akane and Ranma both stopped and looked over. It was Miaka. She was nervously twisting a bag back and forth between her hands as she met their surprised looks. "Hi, um, I was wondering if I could talk to Akane for a little bit? Privately, if that's okay?" It was the most subdued and nervous that Akane had ever seen Miaka act. Akane had been doing her best not to make any assumptions about Miaka before, and she wasn't going to start guessing now, especially when it looked like she might get the truth from the horse's mouth.

When Akane glanced over at Ranma, he returned her look with a quirk of his brow that meant that he would go along with whatever she wanted. Encouraged, Akane sent him a grateful smile. "How about I meet you in the park in about an hour?" she asked him. The air had warmed up from this morning enough that Akane had actually unbuttoned her coat as she'd walked, so the park should be pleasant if a bit brisk.

"Sure, no problem. See you later Akane, Miaka," he said with a nod at each of them before he turned and continued down the street toward Ukyo's restaurant.

"I grabbed some food," Miaka said as she swung the plastic bag in Akane's direction, "so we can just go sit on a bench and talk." Akane agreed and followed Miaka as they walked about a block to reach a small rock garden just inside the gate of a small monastery. Neither girl spoke as they walked.

Finally, they sat down on one of the benches not shaded by the walls or trees. The late February sun warmed it enough to make sitting pleasant. Miaka passed Akane a still warm bottle of tea and a couple of rice balls. Akane smiled to herself. Miaka still remembered her favorite flavors and brands.

Finally, Akane broke the increasingly tense silence. "I haven't mentioned anything to anyone. I wouldn't," she said.

Miaka blushed and turned to face Akane. "No, of course not. I know you aren't that kind of person. I wouldn't say anything about seeing you either, but that's not why I wanted to talk. Actually I," she paused and took a deep breath, before saying on the exhale, "I wanted to thank you."

"For what?" Akane asked, confused.

Tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear, Miaka answered. "I'd been trying to work up the courage to go into the clinic for weeks. I practically had a permanent table at that café across the street from all of the lurking I was doing, trying to get up the gumption to actually walk inside. Then I saw you go in. You, Akane Tendo, of all people," she gave a sad laugh. "Just knowing you were in that building was enough to get over my fears long enough to walk inside."

Miaka twisted off the cap of her tea and took a quick sip. "Right after Christmas, I started to suspect that I might be pregnant. I'd missed my period twice. When I told my boyfriend that I was scared, he dumped me and accused me of being a slut and sleeping around, even though the only boy I've ever been with was him. He's denying all responsibility." Miaka's breath hitched and a few tears finally escaped from her glistening eyes. She wiped them away angrily and sent Akane a painful smile. "You said from the beginning that he was no good. I should have listened."

Unable to stop herself, Akane put her hand on Miaka's and squeezed. "I'm so sorry. Want me to beat him up for you? I totally will."

A watery chuckle escaped Miaka. "Maybe. It won't matter soon anyways. The clinic only confirmed what I'd suspected. I am pregnant. As soon as we graduate in April, my family is sending me to live up North with my aunt. They don't want me to shame the family or the Shrine in the local community."

"Oh Miaka, I'm so sorry. He's a rat, and no mistake," Akane grumbled sympathetically.

"Yes, well, spilled milk," Miaka sighed. "My dad offered to go and speak to his parents, maybe force him to marry me, but as much as this is going to suck alone, I don't think I want to marry him anymore. After what he said, how he used and hurt me, I don't want to be around him. He's already dating another girl, some sophomore. He doesn't deserve someone as," she stumbled on her words, but forced herself to finish in a wobbly tone of voice, "as awesome as me, and as wonderful as my kid is gonna be." Not knowing what to say to make things better, Akane just squeezed Miaka's hand again. However she didn't fight it when Miaka twisted away to get a little distance and grabbed her drink.

After a few moments, Miaka sent Akane a forced smile. "I might force him to pay child support later, but otherwise I want nothing to do with him now. I've been thinking about looking up Mami from last year and forming a support group for teen moms from Furinkan. Speaking of which," Miaka asked, "what about you? Did Ranma accidentally get you…?" she trailed off leadingly.

"Oh! No!" Akane gasped out. "Ranma and I haven't even kissed yet, not really."

"Then why were you at the clinic?" Miaka asked with a suddenly guarded expression.

Akane bit her lip, but decided to trade painful truth for painful truth. "I haven't told anyone but the nurse, but… when I was in Okinawa over the fall holiday, I got kidnapped and knocked out by some men. Some of my clothes were missing when I woke up, and I haven't had my period since. Luckily, the pregnancy tests came back negative, though they couldn't tell me if anything had," she stopped, gulped in a breath, and then finished quietly, "really happened to me or not when I was unconscious, since so much time has passed."

This time it was Miaka reaching out to squeeze Akane's hand. "I'm sorry. I guess that explains Ranma's calm exterior. I figured he had to be completely ignorant. He's not that good at faking stuff. Of course, you do realize that if he finds out something like that happened to you, he is going to completely blow his top, like Hiroshima levels."

Akane grimaced. "I don't plan on ever telling him."

Miaka shrugged and unwrapped one of her rice balls. "Well, just in case, if you do tell him, or if he finds out, make sure I'm out of the city or that he's in the countryside or something so the destruction is limited. That boy may be unable to say a sweet word to you in public without ruining it a second later, but his actions are much louder. He's only gotten more and more possessive and brutal every year where you are concerned."

Akane scoffed, but Miaka just nodded her head seriously. "You don't always notice things that are right in front of your face, Akane, and you know it. Heck, maybe I can see it more clearly because I'm just observing from a distance, but," she pointed a pinky finger at Akane, "I'm telling you, he's gonna break. If he doesn't do one of those crazy energy blasts and level a forest in his anger and rage, he's going to finally pick you up, throw you over his shoulder, and take you back to his cave to stake his claim."

"Ha ha, very funny," Akane said as she rolled her eyes. Miaka was exaggerating about Ranma. And if the thought of being thrown possessively over his shoulder and claimed by Ranma made her shiver, it was nobody's business but Akane's. Though if he did try it, she would definitely have to do some claim staking of her own.

Akane couldn't believe they were joking about what had happened to them, but then again, it was Miaka. She always preferred to deflect when emotions got serious if she could. At least she used to. Whatever the case, it felt good to talk to a friend about it.

After that, it seemed like the ice was completely broken. The two of them caught up on family happenings and events that they'd missed in recent years. Akane had never met the aunt Miaka was going to go and live with, but she remembered hearing Miaka speak about her with wonder and hero worship in the past. She specialized in studying spiritual energies at another family shrine up north. Hopefully, she would be kind to Miaka and the baby.

As Miaka collected up all of their wrappers and put them back into the baggie, she sent Akane a suddenly nervous look. "So I need to tell you something else kinda weird."

"Okay," Akane answered agreeably, not that worried anymore. After all, what could be worse than pregnancy and potential rape? They stood up and slowly started walking back down the street towards the park.

"Sometimes the women in our family have the gift of prophetic dreams and visions. Most of the women in my family have even stronger episodes while they are pregnant, even if they never have anything but wisps otherwise." She paused, took a breath, and then blurted out, "So I've been having these strange dreams and nightmares about you, and yesterday, I think I remembered telling you something about avoiding a purple cloud or a rat? In the train station last fall?"

Akane grimaced. "Oh yeah, that. I totally should have listened to you and gone home instead."

Miaka grimaced and looked apologetic. "I wish I'd gone home with you too, but anyways, sorry it was so vague, and that I forgot about it until now. Prophecy is often like that. I'm having trouble understanding these new dreams too. I just know that some of them are about you. They could be actual visions, but hopefully they aren't. After all, they don't make any logical sense, like how I dreamed that you are going to die a second time. I mean, you obviously haven't died before, so it's probably all gibberish." Miaka waved away her words with an expansive hand gesture.

Although she couldn't see it, Akane could feel the blood draining from her face. "Last year, in China, I did."

"Did what," Miaka asked cautiously, her hands freezing mid-air.

"Died," Akane answered succinctly.

Miaka winced. "Ok, that's not so good then." She took a deep breath. "I'll figure it out. When my aunt comes to visit this week, she's also going to teach me some things to help me control the visions a little bit better. Can you come over to the shrine next weekend? After I've worked on it a little bit? I can tell that this is going to be important for you, but not why, beyond the scary maybe second death thing."

Just the thought of hearing another one of Miaka's prophesies made Akane feel ill, especially since she still didn't fully understand the first one even after living through some of it. However, it did sound important to Miaka, and perhaps to her own future. "I'll come on Saturday morning, since my work got cancelled. Does that work?"

Miaka agreed, then added after a hesitation, "You can bring Ranma with you if you want, as long as he's not going to explode about it. I've been getting flashes of him too, though only associated with you and whatever it is I'm supposed to tell you. I'm not clear on what he has to do with it yet, but he's definitely involved."

"I'll think about it," Akane answered cautiously. She still didn't want to discuss any of this with Ranma. At the next corner, Miaka gave her a tight hug. "I'm glad we're friends again," she whispered.

"Me too," Akane replied thickly with a squeeze of her arms before clearing her throat and letting Miaka go. Miaka turned left, Akane turned right, and they parted ways with a smile. Shaking her head and rolling her shoulders, Akane forced herself to put her worries and the conversation out of her mind.

At the park, she had a few minutes to warm up before Ranma appeared. By that time, she was focused and ready to spar. Months spent playing around combining techniques allowed her to knock Ranma down twice in a row. Twice! Of course, part of it was probably due to how he constantly underestimated her, and how he seemed a bit distracted at first, but that was still his fault, not hers. They were sweet, sweet victories that she would enjoy for quite a while.

After that, he got extremely competitive and focused, quickly picking up all her new tricks and soon surpassing her ability to follow what he was doing. Reminding herself that his crappy, horrible childhood enabled him to be this good, and that she wouldn't want to go through that even if it meant she'd be equally talented, she tried to force herself to let go of the jealousy. Ranma helped buoy her mood by staying playful. Sometimes, he would even stop and force himself to slow down a bit to show her how to replicate his moves. It was a lot of fun exerting herself and sparring all through the park.

Even though she wasn't as good as Ranma, something about the way he talked to her today made her think that he respected her efforts. There was a maturity in their interactions that she hadn't often, perhaps ever, experienced with him. It was wonderful. Akane found herself losing track of time as they played for hours in the park. Only the setting sun, and their grumbling bellies, finally forced them to quit.


The next evening, Akane finished her homework for school early. Looking at the calendar above her desk, she realized that she only had two months left before graduation. Miaka had said it, but Akane hadn't really thought about it. Once upon a time it had been strange to walk to school with Ranma by her side each day, back when she'd been 16 and suspicious of the strange boy wearing Chinese clothes. Now, at 18, she couldn't imagine not always having him there.

As soon as they graduated high school though, there wouldn't be anything to keep the Saotomes in the house. Ranma's mother would prefer that they live with her, but Genma had used the excuse that the school was closer for Ranma here and that it would minimize damage to her house. But Nodoka had already extracted Genma's promise to move back as soon as school ended.

Though there was the engagement….

But Akane was doing her best not to set her heart on a wedding, because she didn't want to face what not having it would mean. Just thinking about not having Ranma by her side every day made her feel like she'd been stabbed in the chest repeatedly with splintering chopsticks. Her only protection was trying not to read too much into his smiles and romantic gestures. She had to keep reminding herself that Ranma could be a jerk, after all. It was getting harder, especially after their wonderful afternoon in the park yesterday, to keep beating down her hopes. But if Ranma couldn't choose just one woman after almost three years living here, maybe it was because he didn't like his options.

He certainly seemed open to flirting with any floozy when he wanted or needed something, as his recent actions had reinforced for her. Maybe he'd graduate and decide to take up martial arts hair dressing full time, or become Shampoo's first husband after all. Akane had given him a zillion opportunities to say something if he really liked her, but he never said anything specific! Not once!

A snide little voice whispered that she hadn't said anything specific to him either, despite all of her opportunities, but Akane squashed it like a bug.

If Ranma didn't want her, Akane just wished he would let some other man have a chance of earning her heart, instead of acting all jealous, scaring the other men away, and giving her hope by flirting with her. Once they had graduated, he wouldn't have school as an excuse to be here. Ranma would either have to beg her to marry him, or move out.

In the meanwhile, the only way to protect herself was to treat him like a harmless flirt and keep repressing the truth about how much she loved everything about Ranma Saotome, even and including his myriad curses, including his girl-side and cat-side. Akane huffed out an angry breath at herself for allowing that thought to surface.

Going over to the window, she drew a smiling cat in the fogged glass. Although cold had fogged her window, she knew from earlier in the day that there was no snow on the ground, only yellowed grass. Her friend Yuka, whose family owned a cat, had told Akane that you couldn't force a cat to do anything. They weren't like dogs, which would do tricks for the sake of a treat and would snuggle up to almost anyone. Dogs didn't mind being leashed or domesticated.

But a cat was different. "You don't own a cat," Yuka proclaimed, "a cat owns you. And they are picky about who they choose to be their person." She had hesitated then, but to be Akane's friend you had to be brave, so she continued, "It must mean something, that when Ranma thinks he's a cat he chooses to go to you - you out of everyone."

Was it pitiful that Akane wanted to believe it? Sometimes she felt a thrill replaying the memory of Ranma's cat kiss and how he'd stroked his tongue along her skin. Yes, it was pitiful, she scolded herself, because those were memories Ranma didn't share unless in a dream, things he did while thinking he was a cat, not a man. An affectionate cat didn't prove anything when you were looking for love and marriage and commitment.

Erasing the drawing with a swipe of her hand, Akane wiped the moisture off on the side of her shirt. She'd finished her homework and had already exercised. Instead of brooding, she should just go to bed early. She hadn't been sleeping well lately, as she'd been having nightmares about Iriomote Island again. During the day she'd repressed most of those memories, but at night they seeped out to torment her. A good night's sleep would probably make everything better.

Nodding decisively, Akane grabbed her flannel pajamas and placed them on her desk. The flannel kept her warm despite the cold air emanating from the window. She suspected that the windowsill had cracked from one too many encounters with Ranma, Happosai, and thrown barbells, but she'd have to wait to fix it. During New Years, Nabiki had given them a new budget and an ultimatum – if they broke anything more before she returned home from school in April, it would have to stay broken. That or they could pay for it themselves.

With what source of income? Akane thought to herself with a snort. Daddy only taught as much as he had to, so he never had much extra money. Every once in a while Akane would do an odd job in town for a little extra pocket money, and there was her work for Dr. Tofu, but after bankrupting herself four of the last six months repairing the house and dojo, Akane had finally gotten the hang of curbing her destructive temper. Hadn't she proved her self-control by not hitting Ranma even once when he'd been wrapped around that ditsy hairdresser, or when he'd given her that weak explanation for his actions?

At least Ranma had been sweet about paying for things when they hung out after school together. Even if he didn't have much money himself, he still tried to look out for her. When he turned himself into a girl to con food out of guys, Ranko always made sure now to con enough for two. Akane had given up on being disapproving a long time ago. She was too poor to look down on a free cupcake or hot chocolate. Plus, if those guys hadn't figured out Ranko's ploy after over two years, Akane had trouble respecting them very much. Though considering that he was now fake flirting as a guy as well as a girl, Akane might have to revise her opinion.

Akane had a depressing thought. Sometimes she thought that he was flirting with her lately, but what if that was fake flirting too? Maybe she should just act like all his flirting was boring, and try not to respond when he sent her that teasing smirk that made her heart flutter. It would be hard though. Really hard.

Raising her arms, Akane stretched up onto her toes and yawned. Then she scrubbed her fingers hard through her hair, shaking away her negative thoughts as hard as she could. Slipping out of her skirt, she put on some cool flannel pajama pants. Unbuttoning her blouse, she threw it into the clothes hamper. Finally, she reached back and unclasped her bra. As the straps started to slide down her arms, Akane heard a perfunctory knock before her door was thrown open.

"Hey Akane," Ranma barged in, "can I borrow your history boo-whoa!"

Clasping her left arm frantically over her chest to hold the slipping bra in place, Akane picked up the book in question off her desk and threw it at his head. "Pervert, don't just walk in!"

Ranma caught the book before it could smack him in the face and quickly turned around. "Sorry about that," he caroled unrepentantly with a little smirk, "and thanks!"

When did he stop sounding terrified of her wrath? Akane wondered in surprise. And just what did that little smirk mean?

Grabbing the doorknob, Ranma was halfway back out the door when suddenly he stopped. Then, in an explosion of movement, Ranma's head whipped back around and skewered her with his electric blue eyes. It wasn't a salacious look either. Akane felt flash frozen by his suddenly intent and increasingly rage-filled glare as it slowly ran up and down her body. But somehow she could tell that the rage wasn't directed at her, it was protective.

He'd never looked at her like that before. At least, not that she'd noticed. It was like Ranma had taken of his overwhelming energy and focused it all on Akane, without any shields to hide the immensity of his power. Akane felt both scared and, dare she admit it, aroused. Ranma made her feel like a mouse about to get eaten, and she wasn't sure that she'd mind. Her muscles went weak and the air stalled in her lungs. Perhaps she was just tired or shocked, but like a match with no oxygen, Akane's temper failed to ignite and burn away her freezing paralysis. So she uncharacteristically waited for him to say something first.

Time stretched out unbearably. Akane felt like pulled taffy getting thinner and thinner each moment, until Ranma finally broke the silence with a question. "Where," he asked softly, carefully enunciating each word, "did that come from?"

Finally broken from the spell of his intense eyes, Akane took a deep, gasping breath. She had no idea what he was talking about and she wanted him out of there. She didn't want to feel this intensely about him anymore. She'd made a new resolution just a second ago, remember? To treat him like a flirt? Plus, she was in the middle of undressing.

In this sort of situation, I have every right to get mad, right? Right. Taking another big breath, Akane shook off her paralysis and finally felt her righteous indignation sputter to life.

"What? Ranma, I'm getting dressed. Get out, you pervert!" Although her voice started out weak, by the end of it she'd regained her usual tone of loud irritation. If only she hadn't cleaned off her desk earlier that evening, she'd be throwing something else at him. Unfortunately, she couldn't afford a new lamp right now, no matter how tempting.

Ranma's eyes narrowed dangerously. The borrowed history book dropped from his fingers, forgotten, as he stepped back into the room and closed the door behind him with an ominous click.

"I asked, where did that come from?" he repeated, his voice dropping register to end in a bass growl.

As he prowled closer, Akane could sense pulses of his aura dancing like blue and red flames just above the surface of his skin. The only times she'd ever seen him like this before were during a serious battle. Something was dangerously off.

But this was her room and she would not back down to Ranma, no matter how scary he looked advancing on her. Yes, she was a little scared… and a lot angry. She'd just confused arousal for the first flush of outrage, she told herself. "I don't know what you're talking about, you idiot, but I said GET OUT!" Akane fired back. Her barbells might be out of reach, but enough was enough. Hitting him was more important than a desk lamp anyways. Leaning back against her desk, she sent the itching fingers of her free hand questing for the lamp.

Then Ranma lifted his finger and pointed at her side. "I'm talking about that scar. Who cut you, Akane? When?" he shouted angrily, his voice carrying a raw undertone.

Akane felt unbalanced by his questions. The fingers questing for her desk lamp spasmed and went limp. In the months since it had happened, and even when discussing it with Miaka, she had fooled herself into thinking she'd never have to talk about it with him.

"What, this old thing?" she gave a nervous laugh, "I've had it for ages. I don't even remember where I got it."

An angry growl escaped Ranma's throat as he took another step closer. "I've seen you naked, Akane, more than once. I know your body."

Flustered, Akane let her instincts take over. Giving up her search for the lamp completely, she reared back and tried to slap Ranma. But then something unexpected happened.

Instead of letting Akane hit him, Ranma caught her wrist before it could connect and squeezed firmly, just shy of pain. He'd never done that before in an argument, never forced her to acknowledge his superior strength. Akane gasped, starting to lose her bravado. She was acutely conscious of her vulnerability at that moment, of the size of his calloused hand where it completely circled her wrist, of his height as he loomed over her, of how only her arm and a scrap of slipping lace shielded her chest from his gaze.

Stopping only inches away, Ranma held her eyes angrily as he forced her tense arm back down to her side with a jerk. "Don't lie to me," he ordered. "This!" He lifted his other hand to trace the raised red line bracketed by the dots of stitches on her side with a scorching fingertip, "This is new."

Akane shivered and swallowed. Something new swam into Ranma's eyes at her reaction, but before she could decipher it he dropped his head to stare at the wound.

"When Pops and I travelled through southern Japan, we stayed for a time at a dojo that specialized in knife-fighting. I know that this cut was made with blade between five and seven inches long," he stated in a tone almost analytical and emotionless. "The blade was slightly dull, and the wound was bludgeoned before fully healing, as shown by the uneven scarring." The sudden reasonableness of his tone made her even more nervous.

Placing his hand once again at the top of the scar, he slowly dragged his fingers down her side like a molten brand, exploring each bump with his calloused fingertips. "I can see the dimpling of stitches, meaning that the wound was deep and, considering the muscles it cuts through, probably very painful. If it had gone deep enough, it would have perforated your bowel. Left untreated, a bowel wound would have caused a protracted, agonizing death." His voice caught a little, the tone finally becoming tight on his last words.

Suddenly he splayed his hand completely over the scar, hiding it from sight like a young child who trusts that if he can't see something, it no longer exists. But Ranma had not been a trusting child for a very long time. He knew that solutions were never that simple.

"Where was I when this happened?" Ranma demanded softly. His bangs obscured his eyes, hiding his expression from Akane. She could only see the tautness of his lips and chin, and that told her nothing his voice hadn't.

"It doesn't matter," Akane prevaricated, trying to get him to drop the subject.

Ranma responded by lifting up his head sharply and moving even closer. "It does to me." His thumb began to rub up and down her stomach in a sensual scrape. The remaining fingers tightened and relaxed against her back, kneading her skin rhythmically in a manner that felt anything but comforting.

"Ukyo doesn't have any weapons that could make a wound like this, but Shampoo might. Did Shampoo do this?" he asked in a crooning voice that terrified her for all of its softness.

This wasn't the Ranma she was used to, who turned a smiling or blustering face to his friends and enemies. This was something darker and deeper that had slinked out from behind his usual mask of bravado. Akane didn't know this Ranma. His voice scared her, but his touch… Akane was trying very hard to ignore the breathless tingling caused by his touch.

"No, it wasn't Shampoo or Ukyo," she quickly clarified, trying to placate the insane glint in his eyes. She started to inch back but had no room, since he'd trapped her against her desk.

A chilling smile quirked his lips, "But it was somebody." His eyes burned into hers. "Tell me who."

Akane lifted her chin stubbornly. "No," she denied him. "I took care of it."

Leaning over her menacingly, he demanded, "Tell me!"

"No!" she refused, glaring up at him for being such a bully.

Sparks flew between their eyes as they tried to stare each other down. Akane could feel Ranma's hot breath puffing against her cheeks from mere inches away. She refused to be the first to look away.

Suddenly, and she never knew which one of them swayed forward first, they were kissing. But this was no simple press of lips, no girlish fantasy of a prince touching his lips reverently to hers, or a shy, virginal fumbling. This kiss was raw and hard, declaring war, demanding surrender.

Ranma's mouth crashed into Akane's, forcing her lips open for the invasion of his tongue and bowing back her neck. Pressing back aggressively, she slanted her head to keep her lips from being crushed into her teeth and widened her jaw. Tongues and lips dueled for supremacy. For a few seconds it remained a battle for control and domination, the fact that the battle took place within a kiss seemed almost superfluous.

No, not like this, Akane thought.

And then she relaxed her neck, let her head fall back slightly, and ran her tongue lightly along Ranma's lower lip. In response, he gasped against her mouth, breathing in her rapid exhalations, and shivered. His response filled her with a sense of feminine power and quickened her heartbeat. Akane had never felt this way. She wanted to make him do it again.

In response, Ranma lightly bit her top lip, simultaneously dragging his nails down her back and across her stomach. Akane involuntarily arched her back and shivered as pleasure tingled up and down her spine. Releasing her lip with a gentle scrape of his teeth, Ranma looked quite self-satisfied.

After that, the touches changed, became less about winning and losing, and more about Ranma and Akane giving each other pleasure, making the other respond with a gasp or groan or shiver (because they couldn't completely abandon competition) and finally kissing each other after almost three years of foreplay. Merging again, their lips touched softly this time, rubbing lightly to learn the other's shape and texture. Using slow, drugging kisses, they learned from each other what it truly meant to give and receive a kiss - the positioning of heads and lips and tongues, how and when to breath, the importance and simultaneous irrelevance of taste, and reacting to and inciting your partner – those things that must be experienced because mere description cannot encompass the true electricity of something as intimate and individualized as kissing someone you only admit to loving in the privacy of your most secret thoughts.

But Ranma had always been a quick learner, and Akane always rose to a challenge, so soon the pauses between kisses decreased as they mastered the basics. Soft exploration once again turned to hard need. Their mouths devoured each other, voracious and wet and hungry.

Releasing her wrist, which he'd held onto all this time, Ranma ran his hand down her thigh and lifted her leg up around his waist, forcing their bodies tightly together as he pressed her against the edge of her desk. All of his hard places slotted into the hollows of her body. They both gasped. The hand caressing her side slid a scorching trail up the bare skin of her back to fist in her hair, pulling her head back so Ranma could trail sucking kisses down the side of her neck. He nipped hard at her shoulder, forcing Akane to whimper in a mish-mash of pleasure-pain, before returning to feast upon her swollen lips.

Akane welcomed his return, licking into his mouth greedily. One of her arms was partially trapped between their bodies, but she used the other to drag up the back of his shirt and send her fingers questing up his spine. Steely muscles rippled beneath the smooth texture of his skin as her fingers explored. The slickness of his sweat allowed her touch-starved fingers to glide hungrily across his shoulder blades and up and down the length of his back.

Ranma kept one hand buried tightly in her hair, keeping her head at the perfect angle for his kisses, as if she might try to escape. Silly Ranma. The other danced over the edge of her waistband before caressing up her side and glancing over the bare edge of her breast, plump where it escaped the tight squeeze of their bodies. His fingers hesitated, with each fingertip exerting so little pressure that the absence of more touch was like a torturous sting. Akane couldn't help but whimper against his lips and lean sideways enough to complete the electric circuit between her body and his hand.

Despite her encouragement, he still used the lightest of touches to reverently trace the curve, panting against her lips as he memorized the shape and feeling of her lush skin. Each touch left fiery tingles that only more touching could soothe. She needed more. Akane recaptured his lips, surging inside with her tongue as she raked fingernails down his back.

The awkward positioning of Akane's arm prevented the complete press of their bodies, along with Ranma's shirt. She hated that shirt and she hated her arm because she desperately wanted to feel the surging heat of his body on her chest and the drag of his skin against her flesh. She could never have imagined this, or how she'd respond to it. Akane's body throbbed. There was heat and hands and lips and if something more didn't happen right this second she was going to explode.

Before she could decide what that something more was, a sudden loud commotion downstairs broke through their intimate bubble. Startled, Ranma and Akane both froze, breathing hard against each other's lips. After a second, her scrambled thoughts managed to identify it as their fathers arguing about something. Ranma's hands dropped to her hips.

Unable to meet Ranma's eyes, Akane forced herself to remove her hand out from under Ranma's shirt. She couldn't keep her fingers from dragging just a little down the muscles of his slightly sweaty back, causing Ranma's breath to catch and his body to jerk, dragging his lower lip briefly across her upper one. Having trouble catching her own breath, Akane forced herself to lean back from the enticing heat of his body and the nearness of his mouth before she fell again into temptation. Her skin felt cold, lonely at being separated even slightly from his touch. Akane did her best to ignore it, barely catching her bra as it started to slip and pulling it back up over her chest.

"Ranma…," she whispered huskily, trailing off when she couldn't find any more words to explain her chaotic thoughts. She focused her eyes on the shine of his thick black hair and tried to breathe evenly. Only when they heard the creaking coming up the stairs did Ranma finally lower her leg from his waist and step back from where he'd pinned her against the edge of her desk.

"This isn't over," Ranma warned in a voice like gravel. Reaching under his shirt to touch his back, his fingers came back slightly smudged with blood. Akane winced in mortification. Ranma sent her a savage smile, seized her gaze with his electric blue eyes, and licked his fingertips clean with one swipe of his red tongue. Then he reached forward and tucked a strand of sweaty hair back behind her ear. His fingers drifted slowly down the shell of her ear, and she wanted to sway forward again.

The sound of footsteps came closer down the hall. "Tomorrow," he promised. Then he pulled back and clenched the hand that had been touching her into a fist, as if to keep the sensation, before opening the window and swinging with a pained grimace out of the room and up onto the roof.

Luckily for Akane, the footsteps continued down the hallway, never stopping at her door. Completely overwhelmed, she fell onto her bed, put the pillow over her face, and screamed. A few minutes later, she finally finished pulling on her pajama top. Then she cautiously sneaked out to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face.

She'd never understood in the past how girls could get so stupid over boys, or let their boyfriends go farther physically than they'd planned. But after having her own brain turn to mush at the touch of Ranma's lips and hands, she felt unfortunately enlightened. She was pretty sure she would have stopped Ranma soon, before anything more had happened. But the fact that she wasn't absolutely sure scared her. In her rational moments she had decided not to do anything too sexual before marriage, nothing beyond a few chaste kisses. But obviously lust was poison to rationality. Or maybe there was just something in Ranma's saliva, she thought with a snort as she ground her palms against her eyes in frustration. Try not being half-naked with him, that might help, she thought with a wince. In the future, she had better lock her door before getting changed. Better not to tempt either of them too much, even by accident.

Coming out of the bathroom, she was surprised to see P-chan trotting down the hallway. "P-chan, I haven't seen you in ages," Akane whispered with a tired smile, grateful for something to distract her from her thoughts. The light caught P-chan's eyes strangely for a second, reminding her of something or someone familiar, but Akane ignored it as always, and chalked it up to being tired. Scooping up the small black pig with his yellow bandana, Akane snuck back into her room. "Boy could I use a friendly distraction like you right now."

Turning out the light, she tucked P-chan into bed with her after bestowing a quick kiss on his snout. It wasn't anything unusual, but the quick kiss suddenly reminded her of her slightly swollen lips, and how they'd gotten that way, and of the small purple mark now hidden by the collar of her shirt. For a second, Akane desperately wanted to talk to someone about this.

She briefly considered telling P-chan, who she'd used as a confidant before, but as much as she wanted to talk about what had just happened, she didn't know what to say. Where would she even start? It was all too big. If Akane once again tossed and turned all night, at least this time it wasn't because of nightmares.

TBC


AN: So their first kiss finally happened in the story. The bones of this makeout scene have been written for three and a half years, just waiting until the story was ripe for it. Editing it was tough though, because I kept adding stuff on every pass. I'm forcing myself to stop now. Nevertheless, I'm quite proud of how scorching it was, but that might just be me. Was it worth the wait? What did you think? And what will Ranma think if he finds out that Akane kissed him like that, and then spent the night in bed with P-chan? I have the next chapter pretty much written already except for an introspection bit by Ranma, so no delays for next week. Yay! I only have outlines for everything after next chapter though, which could be boo. We'll see.

But a warning for those sick of their two steps forward one step back relationship that is their canon. It isn't over yet. Kisses, even awesome ones, aren't substitutes for talking. We still have Akane's insecurity and Ranma's overconfidence. To wrap up the story they still have to deal with the demon's possession of Akane that Ranma doesn't know about, and Ranma's tie to Akane that Akane still doesn't know about, and a new prophesy from Miaka, which means several more chapters. This means that there are truths that have to still be revealed, which leads to more difficulty and some angst still to come. Because if somebody doesn't start talking honestly about what is going on soon there are going to be repercussions. Considering the complexity of Ranma and Akane's relationship, a kiss, even a mutual kiss, isn't enough to solve everything. My point? They are going to get together, and there is going to be an awesome happily ever after, and this kiss was a big deal that will advance their relationship, but like everything in Ranma-verse, things won't come easy, and people will probably jump to conclusions and put their foot in their mouth before the end. So brace yourself for the rest of the ride, but please don't get off just yet. I'll make it worth your while.

Thanks for reading so far, giving me your thoughts and encouragement, and continuing on this journey with me.