Author's note: When in Ranma or John's POV, I will use he/his/him to describe them, even in cursed form. After all, that's how they think of themselves, ne?

***Disclaimer: Ranma ½ belongs to Rumiko Takahashi and her licensees. Used without permission for nonprofit entertainment. Go buy some copies of the manga and anime; it'll keep 'em out of my hair. ***

Dinner was going to be anticlimactic. Well, Nabiki thought so, anyway.

She had been about to go to the dojo to get some pictures of John's cursed form, when Ranma told her that dinner would be ready soon. Gritting her teeth at the delay, she returned her camera to her room and then washed up. She smiled a little as she passed her father and Genma being turned away from the dojo by Kasumi's firm but gentle insistence that "John-chan needs her rest."

Her smile faltered a little when Kasumi turned a "that means you, too, little sister" glares her way. Someone from outside the family would never have been able to tell it from her normal, sunny smile. Seeking relief from the uncomfortable stare, and thereby acknowledging Kasumi's will, Nabiki let her gaze wander to the person behind and to the left of her sister.

Russell Wood looked uncomfortable. It was understandable, really. Nabiki knew he didn't speak much Japanese, and Kasumi was politely haranguing the two elder martial artists. All Russell would know was that she was speaking rapidly, but gently. On top of that, he was being held by the hand like a recalcitrant child.

She briefly considered letting him stew for a bit, but remembered one of the clauses in her contract with him: "should the party of the second part (Russ) be discovered by the party of the first part (Nabiki) in a situation that would be considered embarrassing due to the party of the second part's lack of knowledge of Japanese language and/or culture, the party of the first part is obligated to render appropriate assistance, as determined by said party."

Appropriate assistance, in this case, would be to remove Russ from the uncomfortable situation. Nabiki walked over.

"I'll bring Russ-chan to dinner, Kasumi," she said. Suiting word to deed, she took Russ's hand and gently led him away. She tried not to think about how handsome he was, for a gaijin, or how his muscles rippled beneath his blue gi... Stop it, girl! She thought angrily to herself. Control. She was startled when Russ spoke.

"Thanks, Nabiki," he said in English. "I have no idea what was going on there."

"Well," she said, "Kasumi was just trying to prevent my father and Mr. Saotome from disturbing John's rest."

"Oh. That's all right, then. Heh. She must have been reading them the riot act or something."

Nabiki tried to puzzle out the strange idiom, then gave it up. "Or something. Here we are, the dining room."

Russ looked down at the low table with such an expression of dismay that Nabiki had to smile.

"You've never eaten dinner in a Japanese home before, have you?" she asked idly.

"Um," he answered intelligently. "Where are the chairs?"

Nabiki pointed to the cushions around the table. "We sit or kneel on those," she said. "Allow me to demonstrate." With that, she sat, in proper Japanese style, at her normal place at the table and patted the cushion next to her. Hesitantly, Russ sat down cross-legged beside her, and looked at the eight place settings. He looked at Nabiki and smiled nervously as he took up a pair of chopsticks. She noted with interest that she wouldn't have to show him how to use them. She also noticed how cute that nervous little smile made him.

She derailed that train of thought as Ranma brought in a confused-looking Ken Bakker. Akane, her father, and Genma entered soon after. Everyone took their accustomed seat, except for Bakker, who was placed at the foot of the table, across from Soun. She noted, with some amusement, that Bakker was holding one chopstick in each hand and had tied a linen napkin around his neck.

Kasumi arrived moments later with a platter laden with food. Moving with an airy grace, she set it down in the middle of the table to gasps of appreciation. A brimming bowl of beef tips was flanked by the vast quantities of rice present at any meal at the Tendo Dojo. Ten bowls of miso soup skirted the edge of the platter, and a serving bowl containing stir-fried vegetables completed the arrangement. Both Saotomes and Bakker were leaning forward with ravenous expressions on their faces, their mouths watering.

Nabiki glanced over to see how Russ was faring. His eyes shimmered as he gazed with rapt fascination at the hearty repast set before him.

"Wow," he whispered reverently. Continuing in normal tones, he said, "This looks absolutely divine! And the aroma!" He turned big puppy-dog eyes towards Kasumi. "You are an angel, Kasumi. One of God's angels of the kitchen!"

Nabiki was about to translate, when she noticed Kasumi's blush. She frowned. This means I'm not going to have to translate for Kasumi. That could cut into my profit margin... She was so disturbed, that she almost didn't hear her sister's response.

"Please, Mister Wood," Kasumi said demurely. "There's no need to flatter me." She lowered her eyes, embarrassed by the praise.

"That wasn't flattery," Russ said softly, looking at Kasumi. "It was the unvarnished truth."

Nabiki recognized the look in Russ's eyes and fought down a pang of jealousy. He's smitten, she thought. At least it's Kasumi and not Akane. She ruthlessly beat down the stab of jealousy that even considering the possibility of Russ liking Akane brought. Her little sister had almost as many admirers as Ranma did. What is it about Akane that turns boys into addled fools? She turned to the table to distract herself from something she could ponder later.

Across the table, Ranma and Akane were unusually quiet. Usually, they had had an argument or were starting one by now. Tonight, they were sitting next to each other without incident. Akane seemed a little withdrawn, and Ranma looked at her, concerned. Fortunately for them, Soun and Genma were discussing something and had completely missed it.

They must have been discussing their latest plan to get Ranma and Akane together, Nabiki thought as her father began the meal. Kasumi served the two guests, then her father, and then finally her sisters and herself. Ranma and his father served themselves.

Russell set down his chopsticks, crossed himself, and murmured grace. Then, he picked up his chopsticks and began eating. Nabiki noticed that he ate carefully and appeared to be savoring each bite. Bakker, on the other hand was trying to figure out his chopsticks. Shrugging, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a Swiss Army knife. He pulled out the fork attachment and began eating at a pace to rival the Saotomes, who had begun their usual dinner war.

Nabiki dug in to her own dinner. The beef tips were tender and savory; the rice was perfect. She sighed in contentment. Kasumi's outdone herself, she thought. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to watch.

Ken Bakker had entered into the Saotomes' food war. He was sneaking food off Genma's plate while Ranma distracted the older martial artist. Nabiki saw that his fork allowed him to steal a lot more food in one pass than the flashing chopsticks employed by his opponent. A wide, toothy grin stretched across his face as he took the last beef tip from the plate. He'd gotten away with it, too. He stood up and stretched, speaking rapidly in English. He then walked in the direction of the bathroom.

"What," Soun asked, "did he say, Nabiki?"

"He said, 'Thanks for the meal,'" she said. "He also said he was going to take a bath, if that was all right with you."

"Well. That's all right, then. What harm could it do?"

The meal ended in silence, and Russell offered to help Kasumi clean up. Five minutes of gentle refusals and offers followed, with Kasumi finally giving in. Nabiki noticed a slight smile on Akane's face as she watched them. Nabiki could understand her smile. It had been months since Doctor Tofu had left, and Kasumi had retreated into her shell even further. Intellectually, she knew that Kasumi in any relationship was a Good Thing. Emotionally, however, she was in a jealous snit.

It's not fair, she thought. I saw him first! She took several deep breaths, calming herself, and watched as Akane and Ranma went into the living room to watch TV and do their homework. They were walking a little closer to each other than she had seen in a while, which surprised her. Did I make a mistake when I sent those invitations to break up the wedding? Does she really love him, despite all her protests otherwise?

Disturbed, she looked to see if their fathers had noticed. They were in the middle of an intense shogi-cheating match, completely oblivious. Sighing to herself, she went to her room to do her own homework and update her accounts.

*****

Soun's eyes widened in horror as he looked about the devastation wrought on the bathroom. It was covered in soapsuds, towels, shampoo bottles and puddles of tepid water. At the epicenter of destruction, Ken Bakker sat whistling merrily, taking a bubble bath, and playing with a rubber ducky.

In the furo.

True, his bath had seen worse. The various visits by Pantyhose Tarou came readily to mind. The "devastation," such as it was, was negligible, really, in the grand scheme of things. It wouldn't cost much of anything to return the bath to its original, pristine, state. In fact, Kasumi could probably take care of it in five minutes. So, the mess wasn't what upset him.

What upset him was, the filthy gaijin was putting a ring around the furo. In a Japanese bath, one washed and scrubbed off the dirt before one relaxed and soaked in the furo. This allowed others to enjoy a good, hot, and clean soak with a minimum of fuss. In fact, even with all the use and abuse his bathroom took in the course of what was jokingly referred to in Nerima as "normal" life, the water in the furo only needed to be changed once a day.

Soun was willing to give his guest quite a bit of leeway in etiquette. In fact, he had been able to forgive quite a few things already. It was, after all, a mark of a good host to ignore the minor things a guest might do to upset him. Thus, he forgave the execrable table manners. His best friend Genma's were worse. He forgave quite a lot, actually. This Ken Bakker was actually more polite than many of Ranma's friends, rivals, and/or fiancées, but none of them had desecrated the sanctity of his favorite relaxing spot like this. This... This... atrocity was intolerable.

Something needed to be done, and Soun was the one to do it.

*****

Ken never knew what hit him. One moment, he was sitting in the bath, relaxing in his accustomed Avon Strawberry Bubbles with his rubber ducky, Mister Quack-quack; the next, he was running for his life from a hideous, green skinned, evil face screaming at him in some infernal dialect he couldn't understand. Of course, that meant it could be any of earth's languages other than English.

He ran screaming, not caring where he went, or that he was naked. He tripped over a carelessly placed leg and went flying into the koi pond, activating his curse. He struggled out of the pond on his four legs and shook out his fur. He located Mister Quack-quack, picked him up with his teeth and scrambled for the nearest possible refuge: the Dojo. He barreled past John's sleeping form and crashed into his knapsack.

At least, he thought as he lost consciousness, I was able to save Mister Quack-qua . . .

*****

Russell stumbled wearily towards the dojo. The day's events were fresh in his mind, but he really needed to sort them out. The sheer insanity of the day almost made him wish he'd ended up in Neon Genesis Evangelion's Tokyo-3. Better to deal with giant monsters and government conspiracies than love-starved, shape shifter martial artists.

I really wish I'd seen more of the Ranma 1/2 anime, he thought. Then I might know what's going on around here. He snorted to himself. Doesn't matter. I've got to deal with it, anyway. His thoughts turned to at least one way to deal with the situation. When in doubt, fall in love! He smirked wryly. The phrase had been his motto throughout high school. Of course, he was able to apply it only to others. He'd had infatuations before, of course, but they'd never been reciprocated. In fact, he had two infatuations going right now. His thoughts turned to the two beautiful women he'd met today.

The odd thing was, they were both fantasy women. Kasumi was the repressed housewife, a gentle, loving mother figure. Nabiki was a dangerous femme fatale, sensual, alluring and incredibly intelligent. Strangely, he saw the potential for each sister's traits to appear in the other, given the right circumstances. Perhaps Nabiki would make a wonderful mother when she had children. Perhaps Kasumi had more on the ball than she was showing, and was just waiting for the right man to come along. Russell sighed.

Who do I like more? he wondered. Kasumi? She's a wonderful cook. Nabiki? She'll be a multimillionaire before thirty. "They're both so wonderful!" he exclaimed. "I kinda wish I could have them both!" Lightning crashed in the distance.

*****

In his room, Tatewaki Kuno sneezed. Concerned, he tilted his head and considered the numerous portraits of his two loves.

"Beneath the downpour, someone thinks of me," he said to himself. "Perhaps the fiery Akane Tendo? Or, by chance, the lovely Pig-tailed Goddess? I know not, and yet wouldst I discover..." He shook his head. "It matters not, and, in time's full measure, my loves shall loud proclaim their true passions! Come the dawn to Furinkan's hall and soon, soon shall I break the foul sorcerer's spell!" He rose to his feet and struck a dramatic pose, hitting his head on a heavily framed picture. He slipped into unconsciousness and, as he had many nights previous, finally went to sleep.

*****

Rain fell in torrents upon Russell, forcing him into his cursed form. Grateful for the night vision all leopards possessed, he padded his way into the dojo. Too tired to do much else, he curled up on a futon placed next to his backpack and slipped into a deep sleep filled with dreams of a beautiful woman to share his life with. If her hair and wardrobe flickered between mousy and provocative, he didn't really mind. Not at all.

*****

John woke to the realization of three things. First, he was in his cursed form. Second, he had to go to the bathroom. Finally, it was That Time of the Month.

Sighing, he rose from the futon and absently noted that Ken and Russ were sprawled out, sleeping, in their respective cursed forms. Looking down he realized someone had dressed him in the robe from his Rezo the Red Priest costume. So, he mused, that wasn't a dream, but a memory. Having Kasumi call him "imoutochan" had felt oddly reassuring. Of course, I would've liked being called "oniisan" or "otoutochan" instead, but being another little sister will do, considering... Shrugging, he stepped out of the dojo and into the yard.

It was early in the morning. The stars were still mostly visible, with a lighter smudge on the eastern horizon. Low, dark clouds were scattered about the sky like the stuffing from a doll mangled by a Rottweiler, but the smell of the air promised a sunny day to come. However, with this being Nerima, one expected sudden cloud bursts even on the clearest of days. All was still, as if in anticipation of the chaos that was sure to come once the sun rose.

A slight smile crossed John's face. He didn't often get up this early, so he treated the tranquility as the gift from above that it was. Being a fan of Ranma 1/2, he knew how rare peaceful moments were at the Tendo Dojo. His curse and the effects of the Lucky Scholar Point added to his insight. I'll have to tell Ranma and Akane about that, he thought. I don't want to put them through a repeat performance of what happened when the Neko-ken came out of the bag. He sighed as he noticed the sky lightening.

Today was going to be a bitch and a half. He smiled at the unintentional humor, and then frowned. It was Saturday, and the half-day of school meant that there would be ample weirdness at the Dojo later. There was also something else bothering him.

He really had to pee. The cramps weren't helping matters any, either.

Answering the not-so-subtle urgings of his bladder, he made his way into the house and almost ran into Kasumi. He noticed she looked freshly scrubbed, and her hair was slightly damp. She was wearing her normal attire, and was just tying her apron on. John smiled gently and moved to steady her.

"Good morning, Kasumi," he said as cheerfully as his current mood allowed. Kasumi beamed at him.

"Why, Good morning to you, too, John-chan," she replied. "The bathroom is available, now."

"Thanks, sis!" John said. He began to rush off, but then stopped and turned around, remembering something. "Um, is it okay for me to call you 'sis,' Kasumi?"

"Why, of course!" she said. "It's nice to have another sister." She blinked a bit, and then looked concerned. She nervously wrung one corner of her apron. "Or should I consider you a brother, considering your curse?"

"Why don't you call me both?" he asked, laughing softly. Kasumi regained her smile and smoothed her apron.

"I'll do that," she said. "Is there anything special you or your friends want for breakfast?"

"Hmm," John pondered, putting a slender finger to his lips. "I think... I think I should fix breakfast for them, Kasumi." Kasumi's eyes widened a bit. John noticed, and continued, waving his hand back and forth. "It's all right, I'm not as hopeless in the kitchen as Akane is. Besides, I don't think the guys can handle a normal Japanese breakfast. The only rice they're used to in the morning goes 'snap, crackle, pop!'"

"I suppose it's all right," Kasumi said hesitantly. "What will you need?"

"Flour, eggs, oil, baking powder, and bacon or ham. Cheese and cabbage would be nice, but aren't necessary."

Kasumi thought for a moment, and then said, "All right. We do have those. I'll leave them on the counter for you." She began to head towards the kitchen, and then called over her shoulder. "Oh, by the way, John-chan, I washed your clothes, and they are on the dryer in the changing room. Ryoga left a note saying they needed it."

"Yes," he said, wrinkling his nose, "they did. Thank you very much, sis!" He dashed off, praying he'd make it to the bathroom in time.

Thankfully, he made it. Feeling a little better, but not much, he went into the changing room and found his clothes. They were neatly folded and segregated into "his" and "hers" piles. Of course, the "his" pile was much larger, consisting of the clothes, mostly t-shirts and shorts, he had packed for the convention, a Chairman Mao suit, and two sets of Chinese silks like Ranma's usual attire. The "hers" pile contained three changes of simple, white cotton panties and three sports bras. There was also a cheongsam and an Amazon "pantsuit." John knew the armor that went with it was still in his pack.

He was pleased to notice that the gi he had worn to fight Ranma was hanging up on the bar and immaculately white. Trust Kasumi to remove even the most stubborn stain, he thought wryly. He'd had it laundered five times in China and no one had been able to remove the handprints left by Happosai, much less the grass stains caused by sparring sessions with Ryoga and Russell. He touched the fabric. Still damp. Kasumi must have gotten up even earlier than usual to take care of this. I'll have to do something special for her.

He shucked his robe and carefully placed it into the laundry basket. He then wrapped a towel around himself, preserving what "feminine modesty" he had. He posed a little, admiring his reflection in the mirror. It was rather strange to see the attractive Japanese girl in the mirror aping his actions, but he'd gotten used to it while he was in China. Smiling, he put up the "Occupied" sign on the door to the furo and entered. He walked over to the faucet and filled the scrub and rinse buckets with hot water. Sloshing a little of the rinse water on himself, he returned to his proper form and gender. He sighed in relief as the cramps disappeared.

That's much better, he thought. He sat on the stool and began scrubbing. He marveled at how muscular he had become in the last three weeks. The intense physical activity of traveling with Ryoga had effectively banished the "fanboy flab" he had carried since high school. Of course, carrying four enormous packs around because he was the only one who still had hands when he got wet was part of it, too. He finished scrubbing and dumped the rest of the hot rinse water over himself. He put the buckets away where they belonged and then got into the furo, reveling in the warmth and relaxing. He leaned his head back and let memory wash over him.

Flash.

He cursed as his car sputtered and jerked, knowing full well he'd run out of gas. He turned to the person beside him. He would have said something, but the expression on Ryoga's face stopped him cold. Following the lost boy's gaze, he looked at the hundreds of springs dotting the area. Each spring had a bamboo pole sticking up from it.

He could hear Russ and Ken asking where they were. He was in numb shock, but managed to speak in unison with Ryouga.

"It's . . ."

Flash.

She awoke to find herself surrounded by black feathers from the crows that had abducted her. She blinked and took in her surroundings. When she realized where she was, the blood in her veins froze.

"Oh!" she said. "This is . . ."

"The cursed training grounds," a silky voice said behind her, "Jusenkyo." She had heard that voice before. Arrogance colored it even beyond the slight Chinese accent. She turned to face her abductor.

"You!" she yelled, voice dripping fury. "You're that Kiima person!" She took up a basic stance and prepared for battle.

Flash.

"Shit!" he yelled. Ryoga had just applied a Bakusai Tenketsu to his car door and raced towards the springs. He turned to Russ and Ken. "Guys, this place is dangerous. Don't leave the car unless your life is in danger, got it?" Seeing the blank, terrified looks, he assumed they did. He undid his seat belt and got out of his wreck, er, car.

He began running after Ryoga. He noticed how muddy and treacherous the footing was as he ran by three springs. Looking ahead, he saw Ryoga wandering in circles. Ryoga slipped and fell in.

"Oh, man!" he said, wincing for Ryoga, but was relieved when he saw the lost boy stand from the pool, human and laughing in joy. Until he walked out and splashed into another pool. Ryoga's exclamation was quite different when he emerged from the second pool.

"Bwee!" P-Chan cried mournfully.

Flash.

She was having a hard time dodging Kiima's feather darts, but she was doing it. She noticed that the feathers were slicing chunks off of the training poles. In desperation, she did a rolling dive and snagged a double handful of sharpened bamboo stakes. She unleashed a volley of her makeshift daggers at the Phoenix person.

Her opponent dodged the missiles as several of the crows began to attack. Lashing out, she knocked them out of the sky and into one of the pools. Seconds later, several black frogs sprang out.

"See?" Kiima taunted as she sprinted away. "If you move carelessly, you'll end up like that, too!"

If I get caught, she thought, Ranma will . . . She cut off that line of thought and continued running.

Flash.

He stood at the edge of one of the pools, having just barely stopped in time to avoid falling in. Sighing in relief, he looked around cautiously and saw a little man being chased by a huge winged . . . thing. They were coming his way. Fast.

Oh, shit, he thought as Happosai slammed into his head and knocked him over. Waving his arms frantically, he fell into the pool.

Flash.

She heard the faint crack and suddenly fell. Water was covering her head, pouring into her mouth. She couldn't breathe! She couldn't breathe! Everything was going black . . .

Flash.

John shot upright in the bath, shivering despite the warmth of the furo. Deciding he'd had enough, he got out, wrapped a towel around his middle and made his way into the changing room.

Suitably dried and feeling clean, he chose his clothes for the day. For sheer practicality, he grabbed the lone pair of bikini briefs he owned. He knew they'd fit comfortably if he went girl unexpectedly, having tested them before buying. Besides, he just wasn't a "boxers" guy. He grabbed his black Hand Maid May t-shirt and his green "Ranma outfit" and quickly got dressed.

He palmed a maxi pad and a couple of Midol, just in case. Embarrassed, he grabbed his clean clothes and returned to the dojo.

*****

Akane woke to the realization of two things. She had to go to the bathroom, and it was That Time of the Month. The sudden shout and splash she heard outside made her realize a third thing: Ranma and Uncle Saotome were awake and fighting.

"Honestly!" she muttered. "Every morning!" Strangely, she was angrier with Uncle Saotome than Ranma.

She got out of bed and stretched. All things considered, it looked to be a good day. She looked around her room and carefully opened her underwear drawer. Looking inside, she counted seven pairs of panties and seven bras. She also still had the lingerie she had worn under her dress at the failed wedding attempt.

Better not think about that, she thought, suppressing a twinge of fury at almost everyone she knew. The fact that I still have underwear at all is a good sign. Happosai had been missing since he had drunk the cask of Nanniichuan. If he had been around, he surely would have wiped her wardrobe clean.

She grabbed her plainest undergarments and her workout clothes and got dressed. Adjusting her headband, she pulled out her school uniform and laid it on the bed next to another set of under things. There! All set for when I get back from my jog.

She made her way downstairs and stopped by the kitchen. An unusual aroma was floating in the air, so she poked her head in the doorway to see what was going on. Kasumi was in one corner, preparing the usual breakfast. Akane gasped when she saw John at the stove, cooking something. She made her way into the kitchen, and cleared her throat. Both cooks turned to face her.

"Good morning," she said.

"Good morning, Akane," they both replied. Kasumi had her normal blissful smile, while John had a slightly roguish grin. Akane had to keep herself from giggling when she saw the pink, frilly apron he was wearing. He noticed the stifled giggle and chuckled wryly.

"What's the matter, Akane?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Never seen a man in a frilly, pink apron before?" He turned his attention back to the stove, where Akane saw he was tending to a frying pan filled with something. On plates next to the stove, she saw piles of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. With a sudden movement, John heaved the pan up, flipping what looked like an okonomiyaki. He did a back flip and caught the item in the pan.

"Showoff," Akane muttered with a tinge of jealousy. Speaking louder, she continued. "Is that an okonomiyaki, John?"

"No," he replied. "It's a pancake. Much easier to make." He turned a practiced eye to the pan and slid the pancake onto a stack of four others. "I'll have to teach you how to make 'em, later." Akane watched with fascination as he took a bowl of batter and spooned it into the frying pan. The batter hissed as it formed a round puddle. "Watch carefully, the secret to a good pancake is knowing when to turn it." Bubbles began forming in the batter, and John grabbed a spatula. When the edges were beginning to brown, he flipped the pancake with the spatula. Akane marveled at how round and golden brown it was. After a couple of minutes, it was done and joined the stack. He covered the plates of breakfast goodies and handed them to Kasumi. "Could you keep these warm until the guys wake up, big sister?"

"My, yes. Certainly, little brother," Kasumi said gently. Akane's eyes widened. She had been about to ask how he could be so forward, when Kasumi accepted his endearment. She almost jumped when he spoke to her.

"You're going on your jog, right, Akane?" he asked. She nodded dumbly. "Can I come along? We have a lot to talk about." She nodded again, unsure of what he meant. "Great! I'll meet you by the gate in two minutes."

Slightly dazed, Akane made her way to the gate and waited for John to arrive.

*****

Author's note: The dialogue in the flashback regarding Kiima comes from the Ranmascan project's translation of Ranma ½ Volume 37.