Disclaimer; This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.
"They should have been back by now," she muttered to herself.
Normally, Britanny would have been in the thick of things where adventures and fights were concerned, but due to the life growing in her abdomen, she was forbidden from going to Yl'Dahjim, as it was guaranteed a danger, and could cause the foetus' death. Though she was a werecheetah, and thus had extreme healing if the damage wasn't caused by silver, magic or other werecreatures, she didn't want to risk finding out if the baby had acquired this ability this early in its development.
Actually, it had been Stryyp that had to remind her of her condition – she had been in the process of putting on her fighting gear when he found her.
"Come on!" Britanny growled and slammed her fists against a metal table, creating a sizable dent in it and tearing out the bolts holding the table legs to the floor. "I could have kicked Madrid's ass ten times by now - and I could possibly have destroyed the robot twice!"
"No you couldn't," argued Dao tiredly from where he was running a Disc Defragment to economise the hard drive. "That thing was equipped with Phantom Rings … you've tried wearing one of those things, so you know how destructive they can be. Not to mention that it's several times faster than the original models and reprogrammed to obey Madrid's orders … and, in your current condition, you would have been a liability rather than an asset.
"Besides, there is no way for us to know where they can find an exit, or whether there is a difference in how time runs in there."
"You're right," Britanny sighed and rested her back against a metal-plated wall. "I just wish they'd hurry!" sinking down to the floor, the werecheetah wrapped her arms around her knees and looked at the floating tablet, willing it to spit out her family and friends.
As though answering her will, Stryyp, Seance, Gina, Penny, Hanza, Genn and Ranma appeared on the ground between the werecheetah and the floating tablet.
"Are you sure she won't be able to get out?" Genn asked Gina cautiously.
"Absolutely," Gina declared confidently.
"She has no way to get off the moon without destroying the capsule she and Prototype Alpha Seven are trapped within," Ranma added. "She won't want for anything other than creature comforts, and barring old age now that she's a hybrid of Djinni and human, she will not die, as Djinni are more or less immortal after what I gather. And it is highly unlikely that Prototype Alpha Seven will be depleted of his energy, given that his power source is much better than the Hurtbots Gina made until a few months ago, and he is essentially alive if not in body, then in spirit."
"You're back!" Britanny exclaimed, this being the only warning Stryyp had before finding his wife plastered all over his front, purring like a napping kitten in a particularly nice beam of sunlight.
"How nice to see you, too, sister," Gina commented in mock offence.
Ranma couldn't help but chuckle and wrap an arm about his present girlfriend, who settled for the one-armed hug and rested her head against Ranma's now human neck.
"I gather from your positive attitudes that you managed to thwart Madrid's plans?" Dao half asked.
"She won't bother anyone any more," Gina declared proudly. "And your scientists do not count!" she added to Ranma.
"But they were so set on colonising the moon!" Ranma mock pouted. This was a much better relationship than he had with any of the fiancées his father arranged for him. In those relationships, he could barely cough without it being seen as a proposal for dates or admission of perverse behaviour, in his current romantic life, Ranma felt confident that he could poke fun at his girlfriends without them beating him to a pulp or accuse him of cheating on them – granted, in his case, it couldn't be cheating as all his girlfriends were aware of, and tolerant of each other, even affectionate to a degree a step above friendship but below romantic. "Now they have to settle for Mars, which can hardly be seen by the naked eye from Earth … not to mention that it would take longer to get the planet habitable due to its larger size."
"At least colonists won't have to worry about anyone looking down at them with a telescope while they sunbathe," Gina joked, knowing it wasn't all that funny. "Come on, I'm taking a shower, and you're joining me, Lover-boy!"
Wearing a silly grin over his face in anticipation of the imminent event, Ranma still couldn't shake his disappointment over how easily they had won this conflict, and how clumsy and slow Akane and Ryoga had felt compared to before his transformation. He was growing at an astonishing pace and didn't like the lack of proper challenges to keep him from becoming overconfident in his abilities, and to keep him humble enough not to lord his skills over everyone like Kuno did.
If only – wait, there was a chance! He had a meeting with his fellow Weapons-Masters coming up in the not too distant future! Followed by selecting students from both the Kryn and Werewolves! Maybe he could find some challenges there?
All over Jade, the fighters and warriors carrying the title of Weapons-Master sneezed.
In the holding cell under the house of the Diggers sisters, Romeo sat up and groggily rubbed his head.
He was experiencing a whopper of a hang-over, and wondered why on Earth he had overdone his drinking to such a degree that he as a werecreature still felt it the morning after his binge.
Everything was clouded in his memory, and his sense of balance was off, requiring that he shift his arms to support his weight better – what was that? It was soft, warm, squishy, yet resilient – was it a heated pillow?
Turning his head, Romeo saw that what his hand had gotten hold of was not a pillow, though some crude person would undoubtedly callously refer to them as such – he had gotten hold of Moesha's left breast, and by the looks of things, she was very uncomfortable with part of his weight on her chest and the fingers digging into the breast.
It took a moment for Romeo's brain to catch up to the moment, but as soon as it did, he screamed in fear and jumped to a corner of the room, where he proceeded to make himself as small as possible.
Moesha was no less groggy than Romeo when she sat up, rubbing her head with one hand and her sore breast with the other. What had happened to cause a combination of the two aches? Had she ingested some sort of magical alcohol for its effects to linger so, or was there some other reason?
A shiver in her peripheral vision drew her attention.
Turning her head, Moesha saw her fellow wererat, Romeo, quiver in fright.
The ache in her left breast suddenly made sense, and to make sure, Moesha lifted her dark, ninja top enough to see the hand-print bruise left behind. Though they had been intimate the last time they had been imprisoned, their time in semi-freedom had driven them apart romantically, and this kind of behaviour was unacceptable outside of a romantic relationship.
"Y'know, Romeo, you just got yourself, like, an order of whoop-ass with a performance of, like, the Nutcracker!"
"Erwin, get away from the gift shop! I've gotten our rental car!"
Grumbling, Lord "Peewee" Talon turned away from the window of the electronics part of the Airport gift shop, where he had been watching the frequently aired Anime shows – it was an attempt to determine what it was about them that appealed to the masses – the female characters had annoyingly shrill voices, the plots were more riddled with holes than Swiss cheese, and they all copied each other at some point in scene set-up or action sequences. And if there by chance was a sliver of logic or originality in there, it must have been purely by accident. Quite frankly, he couldn't see what made them so popular – apart from the bare, female boobies that flashed across the screen at regular intervals, often in the form of "transformation" sequences. Okay, maybe that was part of it.
"Now, Erwin!" snapping from his musing, Peewee noted that his mother was getting annoyed.
Peewee's mood after the annoying flight did not improve as he saw the car his mother had rented. Derelict and positively ancient or out of date was his only description.
Granted, this was a top of the line Toyota family car, with DVD players in front of all passenger seats, and various environment-conserving devices to reduce emission and spend less fuel over longer distances. Its coat was shiny and grey and not a scratch could be found. But despite all this, Peewee was used to getting the best, the most expensive and flashy products on the market – and what he couldn't get, he'd put together himself.
"Why did you have to choose this one, mom?" he whined. "I'm sure they had something better!"
"I don't want to appear too snobbish," his mother explained as though it was obvious. "Last I heard from her before the call, my friend was living in a small apartment with two friends, sharing the bills, and working as a PE instructor of some kind for a school somewhere in the Tokyo area. I don't want her to feel too bad about not having all the things I have, so I chose something that seems more accommodating … and I'll have no more complaints from you, I'm sure this will be character-building."
"Yes, mom," Peewee groaned and slumped into the car, watching an attendant loading their luggage into the back through the mirror.
To think of all the experiments he could have been running if he hadn't been forced into this. Nothing would get done in his absence, so several of his more time-sensitive experiments would be impossible to complete by the time he returned. What a waste of resources.
"Don't turn on the DVD player, Erwin," his mother warned him as she sat into the drivers' seat. "I don't know how long it will take us to get to the address I was given, but I don't want you getting engrossed by some movie so I'll have to drag you out, kicking and screaming like we did when we last visited your Grandma and Grandpa."
"Yes, mom," Peewee sighed in defeat. There was no reasoning with that woman so there was no reason to try. The time she was talking about had been this hilarious documentary about dinosaurs, dating back over thirty years and riddled with inaccuracies in everything from diets, bone composition and species names, to cause of death or their status in the food chain. It had been one of the funniest things he had seen produced and supported by doctors that didn't require a prescription to acquire, and just because his grandparents were ancient, his mother had thought that they warranted his attention more than the show – which had led to the incident she had brought up.
It was a good thing he had it on disc.
The drive to wherever his mother's old pen pal lived would be better spent trying to figure out how to get a hold of Ranma's DNA – or Britanny Diggers' – or how to retrieve the wererat DNA samples that were stolen from him, or replace them with fresh ones as well as a living subject to study.
Another subject on his mind, was whether or not he should be worried about this new body guard Pincer had gotten. The woman was not near as flappable as the Harpy that used to be Pincer's bodyguard, which was what lost him an ancient relic that apparently had the ability to recite the thoughts of its holder.
And the thoughts of that Pincer woman caused his thoughts to stray; his pheromone cologne needed more work, because Pincer didn't even look the least bit hot or bothered. Maybe one of his incompetent goons had screwed with the formulae somehow?
His musing was interrupted by his mother slamming down on the brakes, and the momentum of their previous speed causing Peewee to snap forward.
"What happened?" he asked in a pained groan, rubbing his sore neck.
"They did," his mother growled and pointed – something very unusual as it was impolite to point – at the road just in front of the car.
Standing in the middle of the road was a young man and a young woman, looking over a map of the London Underground while pointing in different directions, arguing over where to go in gestures. They both carried backpacks that looked very heavy, and resting on top of the backpacks and sleeping bags, were matching bamboo umbrellas.
As the windows were closed, Peewee couldn't hear what they said, but they started moving shortly after the car had stopped, seemingly unaware of the danger they had been in.
Peewee saw his mother opening the car door to step out and share a few choice words with the couple, but they had disappeared in the short time mother and son had taken their eyes off them.
"Where did they go?"
Impatient motorists behind their car caused the elder Talon to return to her seat and restart the car. Apparently, it wasn't very popular to stop in the middle of the road in Tokyo without red lights blinding you, because of a funny TV show taping in the area or some sort of police blockade erected for some serious reason.
Grumbling about irresponsible pedestrians, Peewee's mother drove on.
Peewee, for once, couldn't help but agree with his mother. It was outright reckless to wander into the street without any awareness or weariness about traffic.
After some time – it was difficult to tell how long as there was so much to see, but nothing really entertaining – the car pulled to a stop.
"This is it," Peewee's mother announced.
Peewee looked out the window of the car to be met with a tall wooden and stone boundary wall with intricate designs along the support posts. The very top of a typical traditional Japanese house could barely be made out rising above the wall.
"Certainly a step up from a small apartment shared between three women," commented Peewee's mother, who stood out of the car and had a better vantage point than her son due to her height being somewhat more advanced. Her tone was one of admiration and approval. "Her son must have earned a decent living if he can afford a place like this in Japan …"
"Her son lives with her?" grimaced Peewee, appalled at the idea of still living with his mother when he grew up to legal age. How pathetic was this man?
"No, he invited her to live with him," his mother corrected, and gave him a stare that warned him not to comment any more on the matter. "And I think it is a very considerate gesture, taking in the woman that laboured for hours and hours to bring him into the world, don't you agree?" her tone was very strict as she asked the rhetorical question.
"No," Peewee answered regardless of the form of the question. She had brought him in on this without his consent, now she would get his opinion whether she truly wanted it or not. "He had no choice in the matter of being born, so I don't think it fair to bring up that argument to win sympathy - It's the mothers' own damn faults for not keeping better control over their urges that they end up in the situation of agony they mention whenever they feel like swaying sympathy in their favour."
"Very well," Peewee was surprised to find his mother so calm after he had more or less told her she was not in control over her urges, which would be interpreted as being promiscuous. "As you've given me an adult answer and opinion, I'll respect that and treat you more as one; No more allowance for you, if you want money in the future, you'll have to earn it. And I will not accept you setting your lackeys to do any chores for you."
"WHAT?"
"If you wish to be respected as an adult and behave as one, then you will have to accept the fact that not all opinions will be met with open-mindedness and acceptance and that you will be treated differently because of how you express them. Think of it as a character builder – ah, the gate!"
Peewee, still in shock from his mother's declaration, could barely follow as his mother walked from the parked car to the gate, where hung a sign that declared that challengers to the owner of the dojo were to send a formal Challenge Letter - and for guests and solicitors that have an appointment to knock.
"We're guests, so here goes," Peewee hurried out of the car and to his mother's side as she knocked confidently on the frame of the gate.
Waiting for someone to answer gave Peewee time to think more about the consequences of this new decision his mother had made. He would have no funds to conduct his research – he would have no money to pay his employees – he would have no money to go exploring or to auctions for ancient relics! But worst of all, his mother suggested that he would have to do –shudder- chores to earn money! He watched TV, he knew what chores meant! His mother now meant him to run around the house, picking up his own things, clean his room and mow the lawn without the escape of having his henchmen do it for him! And being as scary as his mother could become, she would have no problem intimidating those spineless buffoons into disregarding any orders he gave that may suggest they were doing his chores!
"May I help you?"
Standing in the now open gate was a young woman dressed in sweats, with brown hair in a bowl cut that almost reached her shoulders. She had obviously not expected company, and was much too young in Peewee's opinion to have been his mother's pen pal in High School.
"Yes, my name is Erin Talon, and I'm here to see Nodoka," Peewee's mother introduced herself. "I'm an old friend of hers and she invited me to come see her first grandchild."
The young woman looked the Talons over, popping a red lollipop into her mouth. "Okay, follow me."
Pushing the gate fully open, the woman walked into the garden instead of up the path to the door, gesturing for the two guests to follow.
Peewee looked the place over as he entered through the gate. It seemed a good mix between modern and traditional Japanese architecture. It was solid and sturdy but with a certain sense of aesthetics. The garden looked well kept, and the additional construction was clearly not meant as a home, nor as a shed – it might serve as a dojo, which indicated that the man who lived here was a fighter, or wished to be one and was rich enough to splurge on the additional building on his land.
"In here," called the young woman and indicated the open sliding door that led to a large room, a living room.
Sitting in the middle of that room, was a redheaded woman, who was playing with a baby on a soft, pink blanket.
"Aunty, there is a woman who claims to be a friend of yours here to see you," the young woman stated and flopped onto the sofa before turning to the TV, which had been muted.
The woman looked up from the giggling baby, a silly expression still on her face from having made it to the baby.
" Erin!" she exclaimed enthusiastically and would have gotten up if the baby hadn't disliked the sudden and loud sound.
"Nodoka," the elder Talon responded in a more subdued tone to appease the baby, who was taken into Nodoka's arms. "It's been too long since we last saw each other."
"It has," agreed Nodoka.
"I take it this is the granddaughter you mentioned on the phone."
"Yes," Nodoka beamed and held up her grandchild. "This is Rei Candy Koki."
"What a cute name!" Peewee made a face at the cooing his mother made. Why was it that normally rational, intelligent adults behaved like complete idiots around babies? "And your son seems to be doing very well for himself," the woman commented in the same tone as she made a face at the baby girl.
"Oh, yes … I don't see him running out of money any time soon," Nodoka replied proudly. "Ever since he got out from under the thumb of that no-good former husband of mine, he's been thriving in everything he tried his hand at! Love, business, Martial Arts, science … he even built this house mostly on his own and without the use of tools!"
"You're joking!"
"No, he used his fingers to drill holes in the wood, and shove nails into them," Nodoka explained, and pointed at the tree-like support beams supporting the roof of the dojo. "He carried those support beams single-handedly! Several hundred pounds and he didn't even look winded after putting them down! He even made the electrical system and power source from scratch!"
"I highly doubt it," commented Peewee under his breath, not counting on it being heard.
"Though I have no photographic evidence of the validity of my claim, I advise you not to underestimate my son," Nodoka stated and made a face at the baby to invoke a giggle out of her. "And you should tell your ninja to cut back on the use of smoke pellets; the sharp smell is very difficult to get out of clothes or hair, and some people have allergies against the cheaper variant."
Peewee took a moment to comprehend what he was being told.
"I thought I told you to leave your little friends at home," his mother cooed, not wanting to upset the baby.
"I did!" Peewee argued, unfortunately loud enough to make the baby uncomfortable. The glares shot at him caused him to become uncomfortable, but he wasn't as vocal about it as Rei.
"He did," Nodoka agreed, and fished out a pacifier from a bag that rested next to the coffee table. "If there had been an intruder on the premises, we'd know about it … I just picked up the smell of the smoke bomb in passing and felt like sharing my experience. What, you thought the sword on the rack was purely decorative?"
Peewee looked at the rack standing along the wall, and saw there was indeed a katana on it, wrapped in silk. By the look of things, it had not seen use in a long while. "Yes?"
"Kids today … no observation skills," Nodoka sighed.
"Hey, Aunty, where are- YOU!"
Standing in the doorway was none other than Brianna Diggers, pointing one of her slender digits at him.
Author's Notes; I don't know what Peewee's mother is called, I don't think it ever came up in the Gold Digger series, and being faced with an introduction of a more personal nature, I had to make up a first name instead of introducing her as Mrs Talon. Besides, it is similar to Peewee's real first name …
It's been a while, I know, but at least I made it within the one month period!
I've also noticed that a lot of people have favourited either ME of my stories more lately … perhaps it has something to do with the Search improvements, which I must admit makes finding stories easier as of late. I'm still a little annoyed with some of the search words I wish to filter out remain in the results, but you can't have EVERYTHING.
As some of you may have noticed, I seem to be running out of ideas – well, I am, and I will not include more crossovers into the story, because it will make the already shaky plot only that much harder to follow with the additional characters – this is one of the faults of many authors, resorting to an increasing number of multi-crossovers when they feel the plot needs furthering. I'm not saying that no one can pull it off, just that very few can and those who can't only turn a good story bad. I will not be one of those who destroy the story by forcing more crossovers into the story, I'm sorry. At best, this story can go on for another ten to fifteen chapters before the end, at worst, another five chapters after this one – I'm pushing for the best case scenario, but I WILL finish the story. There is nothing more annoying than an abandoned story, at least in my opinion, and I wish to annoy as few people as possible.
