Martial Arts Motherhood Challenge Chapter 4 – Lunchtime in Little Tokyo, a ranma fanfic

Chapter 4 - Lunchtime in Little Tokyo

Debra's laptop began chirping just after four in the morning and she sluggishly dragged herself out of bed. In spite of having been quite drunk the night before, she didn't get very much sleep. The story Jeff and Ranko... no, make that Ranma, had spun for her last night would have sobered up anyone.

It was all too incredible to believe, but Jeff certainly believed it and when Ranma offered to have her wife send proof (God, it was so confusing!) she finally left them alone and returned to her room. The few times she managed to slip into fitful sleep, she was plagued by dreams of animals suddenly turning into humans and attacking her with martial arts moves she had never seen before only to return to animal form when the rain fell on them.

She tapped the space bar on her laptop and the plasma screen lit up the room. Centered on the display was, "Email received from A. Saotome, Musabetsu Kakutou Ltd." Debra tapped the 'Read' icon and watched the message pop up. It was in Japanese and had a huge file attached. She read the message and dragged the file to her desktop. Then she went to take a quick shower while it downloaded from the company mail server.

By the time she was showered and considerably more awake the file was ready to be viewed, so she slipped into a robe and sat down in front of the laptop. She looked at the file header and found it was in a standard video format, about forty-five minutes long. It said it was raw unedited footage, but that could have easily been faked.

The camera ID showed it was filmed with an early model Sony Intellicine, a forerunner of the artificially intelligent cameras they used at yesterday's conference. Able to identify and track different subjects, she remembered that the early models tended to be a little jumpy. This might not be easy on the eyes.

The message had mentioned a bookmark about halfway through the file, but she decided to watch it through from the beginning. If this really was a home movie, this was a rare opportunity to see the head of the company at home with his family. She also had no idea if the public decryption key Ranma gave her was good for multiple viewings or just once through.

She dragged the file onto the viewer and typed in the security key. An image filled the screen and she watched as two women set out food on a table in a large Japanese style garden with a pond in the background. Then Ranma appeared with two identical young boys in tow. Based on the recording date this was probably the twins' third birthday party. People began arriving and the camera jumped around trying to follow them all before finally giving up and pulling back into a wide shot.

Debra realized that she had no idea who these people were and their conversations were hard to follow in Japanese. She paused the playback and checked the options list. There weren't any subtitles, but someone had gone to the trouble of adding avatars. She turned on the option and watched as little spinning diamonds appeared above everyone's head. She touched the one over Ranma's head and a balloon popped up with "Ranma Saotome, Daddy".

She checked out the rest of the people in the shot. She found Ranma's wife Akane and of course the twins Hideto and Maseto. The woman who had done most of the setting up was Kasumi Ono, Akane's sister and a man with thick glasses named Toufuu was her husband. Another young woman wearing stylish clothes and lots of jewelry who wasn't doing much at all was Akane's other sister Nabiki.

The middle-aged man wearing wire frame glasses was Ranma's father Genma and his wife Nodoka was the only person dressed in a kimono. Another middle-aged man who seemed to be in charge of the camera was Akane's father Soun Tendo. There was a little girl playing with the twins and when Debra touched the diamond over her head, she did a double take. Either someone had made a mistake or they were playing a cruel joke, because the girl was identified as Hinako Tendo, Soun's wife.

As the file played on more people showed up, mostly just students of the dojo. Debra recalled that, in Japan at least, Ranma ran a neighborhood dojo out of his backyard. One couple showed up and was identified as Ryouga and Akari Hibiki. Debra remembered Ranma mentioning the name at dinner and got a queasy feeling just looking at him.

Finally it was time for the boys to open their presents. They bowed and thanked each person before opening the gifts. Everything seemed to be going fine until they both opened a package containing a set of water guns. Akane quickly confiscated the weapons and put them out of reach, something the boys obviously didn't like. After they had cake and ice cream the party settled down into small talk amongst the adults as the boys played with their new toys under the watchful eye of the little girl Hinako.

Debra was just beginning to get bored when she noticed the time counter was approaching the book marked place. Suddenly the twins appeared running out of the house with water guns in hand being chased by Hinako and Akane. The camera dutifully zoomed in on them as the main subjects of the day. They stopped in the middle of the yard, took aim on their grandfather Genma and fired.

Two hours later Debra was scrutinizing the clip for the eighth time. This time with the super slow-motion viewer they used to evaluate advanced students whose movements were already too fast to be seen. She watched in rapt horror as Ranma's father was slowly transformed into a giant panda. He wasn't morphing into the animal, as you would expect if the footage were produced with computer graphics. Instead the panda seemed to grow out of the man's skin, swiftly and terrifyingly enveloping him in the process.

It was even more grotesque for the young man named Ryouga. It was hard to follow, because his clothing mostly obscured the little piglet, but it appeared near the middle of his body in the area where ki was centered. Then the tiny form stretched out to encase the man's whole body before dragging it back within the confines of the miniature beast.

Ranma's transformation was harder to follow, because when the well-dressed man identified as Tatewaki Kuno pulled out a katana and shouted at the panda, "leave fair Akane's offspring be!" Ranma intervened and ultimately ended up in the pond. But he had unmistakably gone into the water male and come out again redheaded and female. It was almost anticlimactic when the little girl, Hinako, pointed a coin at the sword wielding man and transformed into a voluptuous full-grown woman.

Debra sat back and massaged the bridge of her nose. In two hours she had seen nothing to make her believe the footage was faked. If this was computer generated it would take the combined talents of a George Lucas and a Peter Jackson with tons of money to burn. And why spend all that money on faked footage to support a story Ranma didn't even want publicized?

She glanced at the curtained window and saw a soft yellow glow leaking around the edges. She stood up, stretched and opened the curtains. As she gazed out on the rising sun, she realized that last night it had set for the last time on the comfortable world she knew so well, a world where science and technology were guaranteed to deliver up new miracles every few years, but never to produce anything beyond her comprehension.

Now she watched the blazing red disk rise through the haze over Brooklyn to reveal a very different world. One in which magic was real, where ancient and evil forces could transform a human being in an instant with nothing more than a splash of cold water.

o o o

Jeff looked at his watch. It was almost time to stop for lunch, but he really didn't want to. The morning break had been hard on him as the mood of the conference attendees became quite clear. The better established owners were simply concerned for Ranko's health. They knew the Saotomes were a little peculiar and were otherwise pleased with the state of the company. More recent franchise owners were concerned, the incident yesterday and Ranma's absence over the last seven months made them worry about attracting enough business to stay afloat.

It was the new owners, who had not yet signed contracts, which distressed Jeff the most. They represented a major portion of the mid-west and they were essential to the company's growth in the coming year. Public interest was high due to the success of the Digital Dojo and its other Internet offspring, so now was the time to expand.

Jeff signaled the marketing people to begin wrapping up their presentation. It was a mixed blessing that Debra and Ranma were playing hooky from today's meeting. He really needed Debra here to help him deal with the franchisees, but he was just as happy that Ranma was out of sight for now.

As the caterer's sushi chefs set up for business at the back of the room, Jeff tried to look busy and unapproachable at the front. It didn't work. A tall Texan who was here to sign contracts for three franchises in the Houston area walked right up to him.

"Yo, Mr. Atkins," he called out "Can I have a word?"

Jeff put on his best corporate smile and said, "Please call me Jeff, Ted. 'Mr. Atkins' always makes me look around for my father. How'd you like that national TV campaign?"

"The marketing's fine Jeff," the big Texan said while pointing his index finger accusingly at Jeff, "what concerns me is that it centers around those Japanese people. Are you sure we really need them?"

"Do we need the man who owns the company?" Jeff thought, "Let me think about that for a millisecond," he nodded reassuringly, "Sure we do Ted. The Saotome's know more about the Art than we ever will and so far they've never let us down."

"I don't think we can afford to just hand over our image to a bunch of foreigners," the Texan was coming dangerously close to poking Jeff in the chest with his finger, "We have our own Masters, like that nice clean-cut Vogel kid. That's the image we need to portray in the Heartland if we're going to be successful there."

"When did 'you' become a part of 'we'? I don't remember getting a signed contract yet," Jeff was finding his smile hard to maintain as he said, "Well, Russell isn't technically a Master, that decision would have to come from Ranma, but we do intend to publicize his Championship widely in the martial arts press this year."

"There, you see, we have to wait for some mysterious Japanese fellow to acknowledge a man that has already beaten Grand Masters in karate and kung fu. Hell, we don't even know where this Ranma is!"

"The opponents Russell defeated weren't actually Grand Masters, Ted. That was just the name of the competition, but some were masters of their discipline and we have every intention of playing that up. As for Ranma's whereabouts, I can assure you that I have a pretty good idea where he is right this very minute," at least Jeff thought his boss was somewhere in New York City, Ranma had sent him a text message about an hour ago saying she and Debra were off together in search of the perfect Japanese lunch.

o o o

The perky little redhead in a yellow sleeveless silk blouse and black silk pants stepped from the subway entrance into the bright sunshine. Unlike the gray canyons of midtown where she had just come from, this area seemed to have few buildings taller than six stories. She glanced back at her companion, a blonde woman in her early thirties wearing a black tank top over black spandex tights who was just emerging from the underground station.

Debra was certainly dragging behind and was unusually quiet. She hadn't said more than a few words all morning and was silent for the entire trip from the hotel to Grand Central station and then the five quick stops down the Lexington line to Astor Place.

Ranma wasn't quite sure how to handle her. In Japan when someone new found out about her curse, they just accepted it, picked their chins up off the pavement and said, "So that's how it is." She knew Americans weren't like that. They questioned everything, analyzed it from every angle and agonized over it endlessly. Then they might just reject it outright even if common sense told them it had to be true.

"Debora-san, which way do we go from here?" Ranma asked in Japanese.

Debra looked up as if noticing for the first time that they had arrived at their destination, "Oh... We head down Astor Place until it crosses Third Avenue." She pointed east across a large intersection of four diverging streets.

As they waited for the light, Ranma crossed her arms behind her back and with a sigh decided to try and break the ice, "Debora-san, you've been very quite. Isn't there anything you'd like to ask me about last night?"

Debra waited until they had crossed the street before she said, "What does it feel like?" She sounded as if she already knew the answer, but was afraid to hear it.

"Everyone asks that one first and I usually tell them it feels wet," Ranma said with a smile.

Debra stared at the redhead in amazement, "You're joking... Really?"

Ranma chuckled, "No, it feels like nothing actually. Sometimes, like during a fight, I won't even notice it's happened until these two monsters start getting in my way." She reached a hand around and pointed to her breasts.

"But you keep on fighting?"

"Of course," Ranma seemed surprised by the suggestion that she would ever stop before defeating an opponent, "why should I stop fighting just because I'm a girl?"

"Well, when you put it that way..." They came to another intersection and Debra pointed across the street, "This is Third Avenue, Astor Place becomes St. Marks Place once we cross it. Everything from here to Avenue A and spreading out for a few blocks on either side is Little Tokyo. This was a pretty bad area until the mid-nineties when a few posh Japanese restaurants moved in. Since then it's grown into a nice little community. We shouldn't have a problem finding anything Japanese here."

They faced a bustling tree-lined street of four and five story brick townhouses. As they started walking Ranma immediately noticed the signs in all the shop windows. Unlike Chinatown in the Bowery, where the signs were a hodgepodge of Korean and Chinese, here she saw only hiragana, katakana, and kanji. She got a warm feeling knowing she could just glance at any store window and know what was sold there without having to stop and translate it first.

Debra noticed the look on Ranma's face, she could pretty well guess what her boss was thinking, "You're a little homesick, aren't you?"

"Just a little," Ranma said pensively, "Traveling's not as easy as it is when I'm a guy."

"So, when you become a woman you start to think like one too?"

"Well, yes and no. Dr. Toufuu... that's my sister in-law's husband... says that the only thing that doesn't change is my brain. He believes that if my brain changed I wouldn't be able to remember anything that happened while I was a girl, but I remember everything. Even the stuff I'd rather forget."

They both chuckled at that, "But I think there's at least part of my brain that does change. Take my friend Shampoo, she has the Curse of Drowned Cat and she says that while she's in cat form she can do things she has no idea how to do when she isn't. Things like moving her tail and sliding her claws in and out. On the other hand at least part of her brain must remain human or she wouldn't be able to think like one."

Ranma stopped and stared into a shop window where rows and rows of fish shaped pies were lined up on display, "Don't forget where this taiyaki shop is, okay? We can buy a bunch and take them back to the hotel with us. Where was I? Oh yeah... So when I'm a girl my body doesn't feel strange to me, it's like part of my mind knows what a girl's body should feel like. If it wasn't for that, all this pregnancy stuff would be driving me crazy."

"So, you do still think like a man."

"I sure do, although I've learned to curb some of my more macho behavior while I'm like this. When it first happened, I thought nothing of walking around without a shirt on and my rack hanging out for all the world to see. I only do that in front of my wife now. It still pisses her off, but I think she secretly enjoys it too."

Ranma smirked and for one second Debra could see the man inside the girl's body. It made her think back to the night before, "So last night when Russell was coming on to you... were you at all... you know, interested?"

The redhead was suddenly quiet, she slouched forward and slowed her pace a little, "You know, before this trip I would have said 'Hell no!' and laughed about it. I've had guys coming on to me since day one and I've never been tempted even once, but there's something different about Russell..."

Ranma stopped and looked up at the blue sky through the trees, "He reminds me so much of my wife. The way he looks, the way he moves doing the Art, even the way he's always getting angry for no reason. They all remind me of Akane. I hate to admit this, but he's the first man I've ever met that doesn't completely creep me out just thinking about... well, you know."

Debra was shocked, why was Ranma suddenly opening up to her like this? What had she done to earn this kind of trust? Then she thought there might be another explanation, "Ranma, are you feeling a little too emotional right now?"

Ranma looked up and seemed at last to realize what she was saying and to whom she was saying it. Her cheeks tinged red as she smiled weakly and said, "I guess so. This is a mood swing too, huh?"

"They aren't all explosive and full of waterworks," Debra reached into her purse and dug out a tissue. Handing it to Ranma she said, "I'll pretend we didn't have that little conversation until I've earned your trust for real, okay?"

Ranma dabbed the tissue at the corners of her eyes, "I think you just took a big step in that direction," she smiled and looking down the street saying, "Well, the grilled squid aren't going to find themselves. Let's get moving."

They continued walking east across Second Avenue stopping from time to time, reading menus outside restaurants, window-shopping and just soaking up the atmosphere in this little piece of Japan transplanted to the middle of Manhattan.

Suddenly Ranma stopped and thrust her arm out to block Debra's path. Debra looked at her companion and noticed she had dropped into a fighting stance.

"What is it sensei?" she asked. Blossoming friendship or no, if something was going down Ranma was the teacher without question.

"On a hot day like this, why would someone wear a long overcoat?"

Debra followed her sensei's gaze across the street to a tall man with dark unkempt hair standing in front of a jewelry store, "Homeless people sometimes wear winter clothes in summer because it's all they've got."

"Do homeless American's also carry rifles under their arms?"

"Well, this is New York, but as a rule... no!"

"Then tell me please, what moves will harm my baby?"

Debra blinked, "What? Are you seriously thinking of going after that guy?"

"Only if he tries to rob that store, he's radiating a battle aura and it's getting stronger by the second. Now please, tell me what I mustn't do?"

"You're only at eight weeks... Just don't land heavily on your feet and don't get hit in the abdomen, but if you really want to protect your child let me do the hard hitting."

Ranma looked back to find Debra pulling her hair into a ponytail and securing it with a black elastic scrunchy that she had been wearing on her wrist. Ranma thought to protest, but the resolute look in Debra's eyes made her suddenly proud to be a teacher of the Art, "All right, I'll go high to disarm and disable, you follow in low to incapacitate and immobilize."

The two women looked each other in the eye, nodded once and then moved swiftly into the street where they had an unobstructed view of the suspicious man. When he pulled a short-barreled shotgun from under his coat they both disappeared in a blur. At no time did either one of them even notice the TV crew filming just half a block away.

o o o

Considering the mood of the room, Jeff really should have rescheduled the accounting presentation in favor of something more entertaining. The accountants, Bert and Ernie, in spite of their unfortunate names were about as engaging as slug racing. Hidden in the financial jargon and slide after slide after slide of boring numbers was good news for the franchise operation, but you'd never know it by looking at the faces of the franchisees.

Thankfully many seemed to have decided to take a nap. Those that were still awake looked either bored to tears or irritated. It was really too early to call a break and Jeff wished desperately for something to happen that would save him from this disastrous conference. When a meteor failed to crash through the ceiling, Jeff sighed and slumped even further into his chair.

If this mood continued to fester among the owners and staff, tonight's charity exhibition was doomed. He was counting on these people to cheer on the nearly forty young people they had flown in at great expense from all over America, but if this is the kind of reception they would get he was inclined to cancel the whole thing and just send them to the zoo.

He heard a buzzing noise to his left and turned to see his assistant Kelley pick up her cell phone. When her face went pale Jeff sat up. He saw her nod several times before she thanked the caller and then hung up. She quickly moved behind Jeff's chair, bent down and began whispering in his ear.

"What?" his sudden shout silenced Bert and Ernie and woke up the nappers. To Kelley he whispered, "Get that on the screen as quickly as you can," then he jumped up and stepped between the accountants, "Sorry guys, I'm going to have to stop you right here."

Taking the microphone off the podium he addressed the crowd, "Listen up everybody, I'm afraid that something's come up and we're going to have to delay this exciting look at non-routine financial transactions for a bit of non-routine news that has just come in. Kelley, anytime you're ready."

The big projection screen flickered for a moment and the dense display of accounting figures disappeared. A few seconds later it was replaced by the image of a man in a police uniform holding up a rather small, but dangerous looking weapon. The loudspeakers crackled to life with the policeman's words.

"...illegally modified twelve gauge pump action shotgun. We have confirmed that it was fully loaded at the time of the incident. The perpetrator, whose name is being withheld pending arraignment has a long record of armed robbery and assault and is wanted in connection with an ongoing murder investigation."

The scene switched to a news anchor desk where a good-looking middle-aged Latino man in a gray suit was pointing at his ear with an index finger. He looked up at the camera and said, "I have word now that we are almost ready to go back live with Micaela Hernandez in the East Village, but first let's have another look at that exclusive footage shot by our Channel 18 On-the-Go news team just twenty five minutes ago."

The picture shifted to a tree-lined street where two Asian women were standing holding plates of food in their hands. Suddenly the camera bobbled and paned to the left where two figures had just stepped into the middle of the street. The camera zoomed in on them, but before it could get a clear image, the two figures simply disappeared in a blur of movement. The camera then paned violently to the right and zoomed in on a man dressed in a long black leather coat who was holding up the same sawed off shotgun the police officer had just been describing.

Suddenly there was a flash of movement at the top of the screen and a black and gold blur seemed to bounce off the wall in front of the gunman and descend straight towards him. The blur resolved into a redheaded woman with a long ponytail who slammed into the man's shoulder with both feet. This caused the gun to pop out of the man's hand and straight up into the air. Using the gunman' face as a foothold the woman leapt back into the air and snatched the gun, then she descend once again this time raining foot blows on the man's head before crouching on his shoulders and vaulting off into space out of sight.

The gunman staggered backwards a step and was immediately struck at waist level by a blur that resolved itself into another woman with a blonde ponytail clad all in black. Her blow lifted the man off his feet and she launched him into the air. She then raced out from under him, turned and grabbed his ankle sweeping him around in a wide arc before slamming him into the ground.

Remarkably the gunman staggered to his knees, but before he could get up the gold and black blur reappeared out of nowhere to land kneeling on his back. Her hands became a blur as she quickly struck pressure points on the man's head and neck. He quickly fell face down into the pavement and didn't move.

The blonde walked over and offered her hand to the redhead who clasped it and let herself be pulled to her feet. The two women smiled at one another and then the sound of someone shouting made them look directly into the camera. The picture froze just as a look of panic and shock crossed both of their faces.

"Incredible!" said the news anchor as that image shrank into a box over his right shoulder, "And now with an exclusive Channel 18 On-the-Go interview, let's go live to Micaela Hernandez in the East Village."

The scene shifted from the newsroom back to the same location that had started the filmed footage. A very pretty Latino woman with big hair and breasts to match smiled into the camera. She was holding a clipboard, which she glanced at often.

"Thank you Dario. This is Micaela Hernandez live at the corner of First Avenue and St. Marks Place where just half an hour ago the world of comic book legend seemed to come alive on the busy streets of Little Tokyo. But was it Batman and Robin who foiled an armed robber's plans here today or could the dynamic duo have been nothing more than a pair of housewives in town for a convention?"

The camera pulled back to reveal a stunned and embarrassed looking Debra and Ranma.

"Let me introduce Debra Suzuki of Phoenix Arizona and, I hope I get this right, Ranko Saotome from Tokyo Japan. Both are in New York this weekend to attend a conference of Anything Goes Martial Arts, a national chain of kung fu schools. Good afternoon ladies and welcome to the Big Apple!"

"Kempo, not kung fu," Ranma corrected the reporter.

"Kempo," Debra added, "is the proper term for the discipline that encompasses all of the traditional Japanese martial arts and is what we teach at Anything Goes."

"Oh, I see," Micaela said without missing a beat, "We're told that while Ms. Saotome does speak a little English, Ms. Suzuki has offered to act as her interpreter as necessary. Tell me ladies, what was going through your minds as you attacked that armed and dangerous criminal?"

In Japanese, Ranma said, "Will they blur out our faces like they do in Japan?"

Debra responded in Japanese as well, "No, they don't do that here."

"Then let's get this over with quickly. I'm starving."

Micaela pointed the microphone at Debra who blinked and stared balefully at the camera, "Well, Saotome-sensei says that the only thing on her mind was the safety of the people in the shop and of the bystanders."

"Ms. Suzuki, just now you referred to Ms. Saotome as 'sensei', isn't that the Japanese word for teacher?"

"Um... yes it is. Saotome-sensei is the founder of our school. She and her brother own the company, so in a sense we are all their students."

"Is it common for students of your schools to be able to lift men twice their size off the ground and toss them about like playthings?"

"Yes," Ranma interjected, "is common technique, require only good balance. Debra-san also very good student."

"Ms. Saotome, it almost seemed like you were leaping from the rooftops. How does a petite young lady learn to do something like that?"

"Not roof, only jump from streetlight. Whole life study Art... um... Debra-san?"

Debra stepped in to elaborate, "Saotome-sensei's family has been teaching her various forms of martial arts her entire lifetime. They specialize in aerial combat techniques, so jumping up on a light pole and balancing there is second nature to her."

"Well, both of you are truly remarkable women. What brought you to Little Tokyo today?"

"Ikayaki," Ranma said.

Micaela looked confused and turned to Debra.

"Grilled squid on a stick," she said watching the reporter's face turn green, "We came here for lunch."

"I see," Micaela said recovering quickly, "Before we let you go to find your... squid pops, I'd like to mention to our viewers that your company is sponsoring a martial arts demonstration tonight at the Roseland Ballroom on West 52nd Street."

"That's correct," Debra said, "It will begin tonight at seven PM and is open to the public. There's no admission fee, but we do request a small donation that will go to benefit the United Nations Children's Fund."

"Will we get to see the two of you displaying your talents?" Micaela asked.

"No," Debra looked embarrassed, "I don't usually participate in demos and Saotome-sensei can't in her condition."

"Debra-san!" Ranma's eyes went wide.

"Her condition?" asked the reporter, glancing back and forth between the two women, "Are you saying that Ms. Saotome is pregnant?"

"I'm sorry sensei!" Debra moaned.

Ranma took a deep breath. It was only a local TV station after all. She nodded her head and said, "Yes, pregnant eight weeks."

Turning to the camera, Micaela put on a huge smile and said, "There you have it, from now on the criminals and villains of Manhattan need not worry about the likes of Spiderman or Captain America, but be warned the housewives and pregnant women of New York are not to be trifled with. Now back to Dario Escobar in the newsroom."

"Thank you Micaela. What a remarkable story from the East Village this morning. To recap, about forty-five minutes ago two tourists on their way to lunch in Little Tokyo foiled an armed robbery in progress. The two women are martial artists visiting New York to attend a convention and, as we just learned, one of them is pregnant. We'll be back with this and other stories after a short break."

Jeff had Kelley cut off the picture. The room was now abuzz with excitement. Many people were on there feet, elatedly slapping one another on the back and laughing. A group descended on Kelley and her computer demanding copies of the broadcast to send home to their dojo's. As Jeff watched all this with a big grin the prospective franchisee from Texas stood up and let out a yell, "Yeeee ha! Now that's what I'm talkin' about!"

Almost reluctantly Jeff fingered the microphone button and said, "Can I have your attention folks? I think after that we could all use a break, so let's take twenty minutes and then we'll finish up the afternoon's agenda as quickly as we can."

"Hey Jeff," shouted one of the original franchise owners, "is that true about Ranko?"

Jeff smiled broadly, "Yes, I guess there's no sense keeping it a secret any longer. Ranko Saotome is definitely pregnant."

o o o

Debra sat before a small cafe table under the canopy of a maple tree on 9th Street and watched Ranma happily wolfing down her sixth ikayaki. They didn't have to search far for the elusive delicacy after the TV interview. Once word spread through the community about the heroic pair, shopkeepers and restaurant owners came looking for them.

Debra was still a little shaky from the whole thing. Although she worked out almost daily with her husband, she had never been in a real fight before. She could still feel the aftereffects of the adrenaline rush and she sipped her tea with a trembling hand.

Ranma noticed the gesture and set down her grilled squid. "This was the first time you've faced an opponent for real, wasn't it?" she asked in Japanese, "What did you think?"

"It's strange," Debra said while setting down her cup, "I thought I'd be scared, but once you started moving I only knew that I had to keep up. Then it was over and that damn television reporter got her hands on us. It's only now that I've come to realize I was never this scared in my life..."

"And?" Ranma said with a knowing smile.

"And... I like it!" Debra said beaming at her boss and new found friend, "I never imagined that being this frightened would make me feel this alive. Is it like that for you Ranma?"

"Well, I've been facing those kinds of dangers my whole life. It takes quite a threat to get a rise out of me anymore. The last time I felt that kind rush was going up against a guy named Saffron. I only just barely defeated him and I almost lost Akane in the process, but when it was over and I had time to think about it, I realized that it may have been the best day of my life."

Debra was the one smiling knowingly this time, "Don't count your days over just yet, you may have another one like that coming up in the spring."

Ranma looked quizzically into the eyes of the mother of two and thought she understood, "Can I tell you something Debora? This whole thing scares me more than anything I've ever done. You told that reporter that my only thoughts were for other people, but the truth is I was thinking only about the one inside of me. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to her and that scares me in ways I've never felt before..."

"And?" Debra said with a grin.

"And..." Ranma chuckled, "I guess it's not so bad."

"Spoken like a true gentleman," Debra snickered, "be careful Ranma or you may end up wanting to have another one."

"No, there are no more."

Debra looked puzzled, but before she could ask what that meant her cell phone rang, "Hello, Suzuki Deb..." she started to say in Japanese then switched to English, "Sorry, this is Debra Suzuki... Oh, hello Jeff... You finished up early today? That's great... No, we're still in Little Tokyo. We ran into a little trouble finding lunch... I don't know, I'll ask her."

"Ranma, Jeff wants to know if you brought a dress with you?"

"A dress? Why, is he planning to ask me for a date or something?"

Debra grinned, "She says that depends on the occasion... For the demo?" she shrugged and Ranma shrugged back, "Me? I packed something, I'm sure... Look, what's with all the mystery? Are you cooking up something weird... Well because you're hiding something Jeff, I can tell..."

Debra listened silently for about a minute then her face went pale and she closed the phone without saying goodbye.

"Is something wrong back at the conference?" Ranma asked with concern.

"That depends on your definition of the word 'wrong'," Debra said with a pained expression.

x x x

All characters in this story are a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead is purely coincidental.

This work is copyright (c) 2006 by Juliet Carnell, it is not public domain and all rights are reserved. This work is not for publication. This work may not be reproduced, distributed or sold in any format or media. This work may not be included in any collection without the express written permission of the author. The reader may make one printed or electronic copy of this work for personal use.

Author's Notes:

(1) taiyaki - a fish shaped waffle like pie filled with sweet bean paste or custard.

(2) ikayaki - a whole cleaned out squid that is grilled and served on a skewer like shish kabob.