Here you are on the back of my mind again

Don't guess it's gonna get any better

Is your memory ever gonna end

Or does it go on forever

I was the one when you left town

Said I'd get along somehow

Didn't take long to find out

That I was wrong

--Bryan White "Look At Me Now"

So after successfully messing around with my head for about five minutes in the grocery store earlier today, I finally arrived home.

I cooked the stupid meal I agreed to in hopes of learning more about the guys after me and was amazed Hiroshi even accepted.

I mean, c'mon, it was me, and it was cooking. This equation usually had something blowing up or being born. Sure, I had exceeded expectation since I was a youngling, but I was no Chef Boyardee.

I went and got everything together. My memories of old meals created haunted me as I reached for the top to the pot on my stove.

"Nice soup." I cooed, just in case it came alive and needed soothing.

I took off the top, shielding my eyes, and stared at the profound mess in front of me.

A blob. A big orange blob bubbled in front of my eyes. I sniffed it and fell back with disgust.

Oh my gosh, what the hell was this? It smelt like Orange Crush on acid.

I quickly grabbed the handle, ran to the sink, and dumped the gross 'soup' away.

Once done, and over the temporary shock of how badly that went, I decided to look at the time.

Shit.

I had five minutes to prepare the most tantalizing meal in the world. On the other hand, I could scrap making it, order Chinese food, and get myself ready.

I was a selfless girl; Mr. Ho's family would obviously need the money to go through college. How could I say no? It was practically a charity. That is, of course, if Mr. Ho even existed past a name on a piece of paper. Even then, his paper children obviously still needed to go to college.

No, I had to order; no discrimination against paper children could ever be tolerated!

I looked back on my last thought.

My, my, my; so, I had finally gone crazy.

I was contemplating this as the buzzer sounded. I ran to my phone, picked it up and breathed into it.

"Hello?"

"Miss Tendo?" A manly voice answered. "It's the police. We heard there's been an emergency, you've been cooking. We've come to check for illegal substances . . . or beings."

I rolled my eyes. "You overuse that cop thing, Hiroshi."

He was smiling. "Nothing can be overdone. Except, maybe your steak. Let me in. Bad host!"

I stuck my tongue out into the phone.

"Put that away." He scolded devilishly. "For now."

I quickly pressed the buzzer and hung up the phone.

Okay, I just needed to phone Mr. Ho's and I was done, right?

Wait. What was I forgetting?

I looked down at my tattered apron and up at my freaky roots and barely muffled a scream.

I was definitely not getting laid tonight.

Which, of course, was good because that's definitely not why I asked Hiroshi to dinner, and why I had bought a little red dress to go along with the carrot stew.

Obviously.

I dashed into my bedroom, thanking god for waxing the night before and showering earlier today. I only had to tousle my bangs into place and slip on the damned dress.

I had just zipped up the back and was applying too much lipstick when Hiroshi knocked on the door.

Dagnabit, even his knock sounded cocky.

I ran to the door and opened it slowly, trying to be as seductive as I could.

He was just off work; suit on with the collar unbuttoned and his tie loosened in the most badass way. His hair was mussed up and fell airily atop the strand previous. His eyes were almost half lidded in a dare-you-to-stare gaze he had adopted over years of leaving nothing to a poor girl's imagination. To say the least: he looked good.

I couldn't very well let him know it though.

"I like your tie." I purred.

"Are you trying to seduce me, Mrs. Tendo?" He quipped, staring heatedly into my eyes.

Oh my goodness, my stomach said, along with other parts I couldn't mention.

I managed to roll my eyes. "Don't be ridiculous."

I turned around and walked to the living room, sitting daintily on the couch.

It was really hard in the dress I had shoehorned into and I almost fell off.

He waltzed in, took off his coat and tossed it onto one side of the couch.

"Oh, so you put that little red number on because it was the most comfortable, I suppose?"

Damn cop.

"Y-y-n-yes?" I managed.

"Dork."

I shook my short mane of hair and patted the spot next to me.

I bet you're wondering: wow, she has gotten desperate to present herself like a cat in heat, but I had a plan. See, Hiroshi was a cop, and cops don't talk. I needed to know more about the guys after me, but I couldn't very well just ask him; he'd slither away from answering, which only bothered me more.

Thus, his Achilles' heel: a long pair of legs attached to, a rather frazzled, me.

He slid next to me and had his arm resting on my shoulder in another second.

"So, where's the food?" He asked eager to make fun of my wicked skill.

"Oh."

Crap. Forgot to do that too.

"I just have to phone someone." I got up and slid past him, even though I really didn't have to.

Oh Akane, you horrible vixen.

"The dress is working, by the way." He called from the couch.

I secretly smiled, but outwardly scoffed. "Pig."

He laughed from the other room and it made me smile.

I picked up the phone and speed dialled #1: Mr. Ho's Restaurant. Don't think I'm a bad daughter: Dad was #2. Unfortunately for them, Nabiki and Kasumi and everyone else just weren't called as much on my phone.

So I guess if you could define a "dream date" it wouldn't quite be our relationship. I mean, nothing was the nuclear family-one, two step reality anymore, but still, we were quite the pair.

He made fun of my take out and then ate most of it, I pushed him off the couch a few times, and we had ice cream afterwards, right out of the tubs; yes, this had been a nice night.

So, now it was time to get the information out of him. I decided, after trying many ways of seducing him out of it, reducing me to sheer panic at eye contact with his hungry eyes now, that I would straight-out ask him.

"Hiroshi." I stated, staring next to me on my comfy couch.

He looked to me, pulling the ice cream tub in his lap closer, protectively. "Yeah?"

I smiled. "You loser, I'm not gonna steal your ice cream."

"I don't know if I can trust you; you've got a criminal mind."

"Says who!"

I was not a criminal. I minimally cheated on my taxes, phoned my father some of the time, and was very forgiving. . . sort of.

"Says the tree you drove me up."

"Oh, yeah . . . that."

Sly jackass.

He laughed. "Yeah, that."

"Well, that was with good reason, you fink!"

He smirked.

Good, lowering his shield.

"Anyway, I was just wondering if you could tell me more about the break in."

Smooth Akane, smooth like the Rocky Mountains. He definitely wouldn't tell me anything now. Well, I suppose the blunt approach wasn't the way to go after all.

I saw his uneasy glance at my phone and the door, but I wouldn't let him call for back up.

"Don't know a thing, Sweets." He played.

Liar.

"You better tell me what you know."

"Or else what, you'll stiletto me to death?" He dared.

He jumped out of his seat and headed for the door. "Gotta go."

"No," I wasn't gonna let this be for nothing and I needed to keep him here, "don't I . . . get a good night kiss?"

Hah! Achilles' heel, bitches!

He wavered a bit. "You're just stalling me."

I grinned my sexy-vixen grin, and he receded.

"You're just using me." He played, mock-hurt. He stepped a bit closer and delicately wrapped his arms around my waist.

I straightened at the sudden touch. Okay, this plan was backfiring a bit.

He circled his thumbs by each side of the small of my back. The thought of my love handles made me inwardly cringe.

He noticed, looked down and then back up at me.

"Perfect fit." He noted.

I swallowed hard. Okay, calm down, remember to be a vixen, Akane.

His jeans took rest against my hips. Suddenly, this dress was feeling all the more flimsy.

He half grinned, half scowled and I stared up as innocent as I could.

He detached a hand from my waist, at which I felt oddly irritated by, and brushed a hair from my eyes, folding it neatly behind my ear. He let his hand linger down the front of my body; over every ripple, every silky spot I could imagine, with the utmost care, and then ended right where he started: at the base of my back.

My hands were by my sides lamely and I didn't know what to do.

I coughed. "You always this delicate with the girls?"

He smiled and leaned his head to the side, staring me down from another angle.

Smug bastard.

"Shut up and kiss me." He grinned, pulling me up to him and clenching me in one of the deepest kisses I ever took

His hands searched each side of me and started to pull up my dress. It was off in a second, my white lacy bra standing out in the pool often around it. Luckily, I had a half slip on I had forgotten, and thanked myself for remembering, before.

His shirt was unbuttoned by my semi-practiced fingers in another moment, my hands smothering over his hot, smooth chest; chiselled by many years of close calls and dangerous liaisons.

His mouth engulfed mine, my mind in tatters.

It's just that this felt so good, so right. My hands ruffled through his array of hair and in a moment we were on the floor.

The cool hardwood sent a chill up my spine, only enticing the moment. He was on top of me, kissing my neck. He grazed across my décolleté and I closed my eyes, breathing in deeply, and feeling the instant pleasure.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, Ranma's face flickered in the back of my mind; a picture of his dejected face, on a plane to a place he didn't know. The loss in his eyes; knowing he'd never experience my taste, that I would be another's. I just couldn't do this; he was stealing my full attention.

I pushed Hiroshi off me. Not harshly, but soft, I was still allowed to enjoy the moment.

I breathed heavily. "Hiroshi."

He looked up. "Yeah, Tendo?"

He smiled warmly. He liked when I said his name.

I ran a hand through my hair, breathing hard, trying to hold a thought for more than five seconds before the guilt set in.

"What if they come back?" I mustered, before his greedy hands tried at my slip.

He pressed his lips to mine, but I parted them with a finger and stared at him.

He sighed, annoyed at having to wait. "Don't worry, we got the location from your phone, they're not coming!"

He smiled and stroked my shoulder, kissing me fervently on the mouth.

No fucking way.

I pushed him off, feverish thoughts going through my mind.

"Wait, you're telling me you knew the address of where they phoned from?" I practically screamed.

He paused, raised an eyebrow, and rolled his eyes. "You don't have to get all dramatic-"

"All dramatic?" I screeched. "What the hell is wrong with you? You told me you didn't find anything, you dirty, stinking liar! Too bad a branch from the tree I ran you up didn't puncture you fatally!"

I stood up in a second; looking a little silly in a see through skirt-like attire, and a lace bra with one strap completely off. I stared at him, shirt and pants now both thrown down in the heat of the moment. His tie was no where to be found.

His boxers were gorgeous: little pink flamingos and the phrase "Flying's for Dummies" in little green writing.

Too bad they were attached to the spawn of the thing growing in the back of my fridge.

I pointed to the door. "Get out right now you jerk bag."

He looked up impatient. "Don't over react. We have everything under control. You haven't been going to work or anything, it's being patrolled, it's fine."

Wait, what about work?

"Are you saying that the call came from…" I couldn't finish my sentence, it creeped me out far too much.

He stepped towards me. "Sweets, you're shaking."

I pointed to the door. He had his clothes on now, buttoning up the first button of his shirt.

"Get out, you jerk." I spat.

He stepped forward, then stopped, turned around and walked out the front door, slamming it quite effectively.

I walked to the couch and stared blankly ahead.

Someone at work was trying to kill me.

I picked up the phone and dialled the first number that came to mind numbly.

Jeez, talk about job satisfaction.

A/N: This took forever! Work is too much, and then everyone wants to go out and do stuff. Jeez, stuff!

SkippyPanda: Well, thanks that's really nice of you to say! I updated soon after you reviewed, so hopefully it wasn't that bad of a wait for ya?

Suteishii: Yep, Jin's gay. Pro-bono is basically work for free. I bet Nabiki's would have nightmares about a word like that, eh?

WhiteTigress666: It was hard to kill Pride & Prejudice considering it was such a wonderful book and such, but for the story: anything! Genma is my favourite character so that was tough to do, but it was necessary for plot . . . would've been hilarious though, eh?

Jace3: Ballet was really good for my balance when I was younger and after I stopped, it certainly helped in karate. Yes, they are incredible, Hulk-like drunks.

Ikerana: Get ready for more depth into Jin's character. I've been preoccupied at the moment with the "star struck lovers" but Jin's past is real interesting too. Plus, he gets to make fun of Ranma and Saotome takes it; that's always fun.

Innortal: Thanks very much. I like writing dark, but my real love is comedy. Adding depth is necessary for all things in my books. I like that you noticed he's not the same, it means a lot.