Ranma ached for a nice hot bath. Slipping his shoes off, he stepped into the dojo and set his backpack down on the hardwood floor. He wondered what was for lunch and whether it was Kasumi or Akane who cooked his "welcome home" meal.

Akane, he thought with mild affection. It'd only been a week, but he'd actually missed her. Standing in the middle of the dojo, Ranma imagined his fiancée practicing with such determination and passion. He'd never admit it, but he missed her smile, her eyes, her voice—

"RANMA!" bellowed a voice behind him. Speak of the devil. He turned to see a breathtaking sight before him. Akane was dressed in a western-styled wedding gown that consisted of the most tulle and lace he'd ever seen. The hem of the skirt was splattered with mud and tattered enough to reveal the fact that Akane was missing one silver high heel. The veil she sported was no better than her dress; it was practically ripped to shreds. She glistened with sweat and her bangs matted to her forehead.

She looked absolutely livid.

Ranma decided to attempt a casual greeting. "Whoa, Akane! This wasn't exactly the kind of reunion I was thinking of, but hey—I appreciate the originality!" he joked, nervously raking a hand through his jet black hair.

Akane kicked her remaining shoe off, hiked up her skirt, and marched up to Ranma. He had to hand it to her: even though she was sweaty and dirty, Akane was still beautiful and radiant. "Don't make fun of me!" snarled Akane. "It's your fault I'm all gross and even in this get-up!" She jabbed him in the chest with a finger as she blamed him.

"My fault?" he squeaked out. "How is you going completely bridezilla on me my fault?"

Akane threw her hands up in the air. "You wouldn't let me come to your training trip because I would 'just be distractin' and stuff,'" she mocked in the best Ranma imitation she could manage. "So you abandon me here and the second I step out of my house I'm kidnapped! Some perverted prince decided I would make the perfect bride and whisked me away to some palace in a country where I don't even speak the language! I finally escaped before we got married, but I socked him in the face, so now his kingdom and Japan are in talks to go to war and this-is-all-your-fault!"

Ranma repressed the laugh begging to come out, but quickly sobered. "I can't leave you out of my sight for one second, can I? Seems like the world can't get enough of my fiancée," he murmured, eyes locked with hers.

Akane's face softened under his gaze. "Ranma," she whispered. She sighed softly.

His heart pounded furiously. Ranma had to do this before he lost his nerve. He took her hand. "How 'bout marryin' me?"

Akane gave a slight gasp.

"I mean, if every time I go away and some guy is trying to marry you, it makes sense, right?" Ranma explained, babbling.

Akane took her hand back, eyes darkening. "Is that the only reason you want to marry me? So when a prince kidnaps me, I could tell him, 'Oh, sorry. I'm already someone else's property'?" She clenched her hands into fists.

Ranma raised his hands in protest. "No, of course not!" he denied. She had it all wrong! Why was Akane always jumping to the wrong conclusions? "I-I-I—" he stammered.

"I'm going to take a bath," decided Akane while Ranma slightly gaped at her. "This is what we're going to do. I'm going to take a bath. And then you're going to take a bath. After we've both freshened up, we're going to have a talk. A very long talk—about what you're asking me, why you're asking me, and whether I should say yes or no."

Ranma wasn't used to an Akane who was very much in control and so collected. Ranma started to worry. What if she said no? His heart beat quickly as he watched her walk out, her skirt rustling behind her. As she got to the exit she stopped and turned around. She gave him a beautiful and enchanting smile, one that made Ranma's chest swell with hope.

And love.