Forcibly United

oOo

Rock's Little Sister

Chapter 4

oOo

It was late evening, and Dutch had gotten a call from Rock just as he'd been about to leave the Yellow Flag. Bao had waved him back to the bar, and the young man had asked that Dutch meet him at Lagoon Company office as soon as he could.

Lacking anything more urgent, Dutch had agreed, which was why he was currently lounging in one of the rather comfortable sofas which he had ordered on Chang's dime after the man had had to replace most of the interior of the building.

Dutch looked up as Rock tossed something onto the coffee table, having just entered the Lagoon Company's office. His brow raised at the sight of a bloodied switchblade, folded closed, then found the other man's intent gaze.

"Dutch, we've got a problem. I found this in Greta's shopping bag," Rock stated, sitting down across from the black man with a weary sigh.

"Didn't we agree that this was going to be your problem when the shit hit the fan?" Dutch grunted, picking the knife up. He tossed it back down after a second. "Well... You're in luck, I guess. I'm not going to say I like your little sociopath carving people up, but she did it to the right guys."

"What do you mean?" Rock asked, his tone suddenly hopeful.

"Well, word on the street is that some people have had a problem with our company for a while now, but have been unable to retaliate for our supposed affronts," Dutch explained, leaning back. "It seems that four bastards from this group decided that your new friend was a fucking opportunity. Whatever happened, it was probably self-defense on her part."

"I'm not sure that reassures me," Rock grunted, then his scowl weakened at Dutch's questioning look. "Well, it reassures me a little. I was worried I'd have to stick her in a mental hospital somewhere. If it was just her defending herself... Maybe everything is okay. Maybe she won't get violent unless her life is threatened."

There was a long pause as Dutch lit up a smoke.

"You don't believe that any more than I do," he said, exhaling. Dutch waved a hand. "She's a killer. Ain't no two ways about it, Rock. She knows blood. She likes blood. She's going to draw it from someone as soon as she can."

"So you're saying that it's hopeless," Rock groaned, his hands rising to meet his falling face.

"I never said that," the Japanese man's employer noted, quirking his brow at the questioning look on the young man's face. "What, you think Revy was a fucking saint before she started working with me? When I first hired her, she was maybe a step above where Gretel and her brother were the first time they visited Roanapur. You don't reform people like them, Rock. You just change the way they classify their targets."

"That's a pretty grim view of things," Rock noted, lighting the cigarette in his mouth.

"It's a pretty fucking realistic view of things," Dutch corrected.

"So you're saying that no matter what I do, Greta can't live an innocent life? She can't have a normal day at school, with classmates, and maybe a crush on a cute boy? She's got to live a life filled with violence and carnage until another fucking bullet hits her in the forehead and finally ends things for good this time!?" The Japanese man spat, his glare moving from his boss to the man outside.

"...A year ago, I would have said that she couldn't escape that life," Dutch admitted. He stubbed his cigarette out, moving to the beer fridge and tossing rock a Heirekan before opening one himself. His voice turned wisftul. "A year ago, I wouldn't have thought I'd see Revy smiling about anything that wasn't related to guns or liquor, either. You changed that, Rock, so it'd be pretty hypocritical of me to tell you that you couldn't change that little girl's fate, too."

"It's just so overwhelming, Dutch. She's just a little girl. She's been acting like a little girl ever since she ran back into me. I have trouble associating her with the trouble back then," Rock finally sighed, drinking deeply from his own beer. "I thought things were going to be fine and that the biggest problem I'd have to deal with was Balalaika. I never thought..."

"Yeah. Though... Speaking of problems..." Dutch began, his face taking on a look of mock ferocity.

"What is it now? Does Balalaika know? Is this group after us big and powerful?" Rock asked fearfully.

"No, the problem is you gave Revy a pair of fucking magical guns," Dutch admonished, crossing his arms. "No, really. What the fuck were you thinking? Revy doesn't have to fucking reload, now. Yeah, it's going to be great for expenses and as a tactical advantage, but was her being death on two legs just most of the time she had two guns in her hands not enough? Did you really have to cover that problem?"

"I didn't know they were magic. I just thought they were nice guns she might enjoy," Rock admitted weakly.

"A pair of nice guns taken from the warehouse of a man who's main rival changes his fucking gender depending on the temperature of his bath," Dutch growled.

"She's probably trying to figure out how to turn off her TV with her pistols," Rock said, shaking his head. "What's the worst that can happen?"

Right at that moment, Ranma Saotome crashed through the window, carrying a comatose Ryouga Hibiki along with him. He dumped the sharply-dressed youth in Rock's lap and glanced out the window, a quartet of bullets striking the ceiling as he jerked his head back.

"Admit defeat, or sooner or later I'm gonna get you!" Revy's voice cackled from a floor below and thirty feet away.

"You had to ask, didn't you?" Dutch demanded as glowered at his Japanese employee.

Rock returned the chuckle weakly.

oOo

Ten minutes ago...

Revy was lingering over her fifth (or was it seventh?) rum and coke when he walked into the bar. Ranma Saotome himself. Bold as brass, he walked up to the bar with his partner in tow.

"You two sissies decided that you could drink, now?" Revy chuckled, drinking deeply from the glass in front of her. She quirked an eyebrow at the bar's owner. "Bao, get these two some rum. On me. I'm feeling generous tonight."

"I don't really feel like drinking," Ryouga said, his face going pale. He backed up as Revy forcefully pushed the drink up to him, forcing his hand to rise to catch the drink or allow it to spill all over his nice shirt.

"Come on, Ryouga..." Revy tried, managing something that resembled a sultry voice. "You wouldn't be such a poor gentleman that you'd let a fine lady like me drink alone, would you?"

"Of course not..." Ryouga protested weakly, draining his cup with a gasp as Revy sipped her drink. Ranma made a point of not touching his.

"Fine lady? Where?" Ranma asked. As Revy began to glare at him, he flashed her an apologetic look. "Wait, you're right... There is a lady present." His voice grew louder. "Hey, Shenhua! You want a drink?"

Neither of the two combatants noticed as Ryouga drained Ranma's glass, glaring at the pigtailed boy all the while. Both were too busy glaring at one another to take note of anything else.

"Bao, more drinks," Revy snarled. As Bao filled two more glasses with rum, she smirked. "You know, Ranma... I've got a new set of pistols. Much better than the ones I had last time."

"Oh please, tomboy... Like you've gotten any better since last time. Let's just let things be. I'm better than you. We both know it," Ranma said. He leaned his head to the side as Revy drew her ebony pistol, the shot putting a neat hole in the outside wall of Bao's bar. "Close, tomboy! That almost hit me that time!"

Unnoticed to either of them, Ryouga once more drained two full glasses of rum. As their argument escalated, his titanic fortitude lost the battle against nearly a full bottle of south Carribean rum and he passed out.

"Fine! You want it, you got it, tomboy! A rematch, same deal as before! You've got until your guns run outta bullets! If you win, I'll apologize to you! If I win, you admit what a tomboy you are in front of everyone here!" Ranma snapped, crossing his arms. "Is that fair, tomboy?"

"Oh, it certainly is," Revy admitted, drawing her ivory pistol. "I lose when these guns run out of bullets, and you lose when I tag you with a shot. Sounds fair to me."

A flurry of shots traced Ranma's jump.

His eyes widened as she continued firing, apparently not caring that she might soon run out.

His eyes widened further when the guns continued to pump out bullet after bullet with no care whatsoever for the ammo already expended.

oOo

"...and she's fired like, six hundred shots since she chased me outta the bar!" Ranma finished, ducking the wall as more shots rang out from the street below. "Why the hell don't her guns run outta ammo!? Who was the jerk who gave her magic guns!?"

"Rock, I believe this is your cue," Dutch coughed, grinning at the enraged look on one Japanese man's face and the surprised look on the other.

oOo

Balalaika reviewed the security tapes, looking for something that might pique her memory. Her men had descended on the boutique hours ago: the Russian was not a woman who allowed mysteries to fester within her mind, and nor was she one to make a mistake when she thought she'd made a positive identification of a face.

If she thought she'd seen Rock's little sister Greta before, she had. The only question was where and when. She needed to know who this mysterious girl living with Rock was, and she needed to know right away. The poor boy was far too trusting.

Boris and several other men were poring over the security tape and drawing their own conclusions while the blond teenager sat in her chair and watched the tape of their encounter over and over again. Despite the gnawing feeling that she knew the charming girl from somewhere before, Balalaika was unable to identify where.

Until the photo crossed her desk.

White-blond hair spilled down over a heavy gothic dress. Rather severe for a twelve year old. The Russian mob leader only had to pause the boutique video for a second to confirm what her gut already sang to her.

Rock's little sister was the murderous little bitch who'd helped kill two of Balalaika's men with the little bastard she'd watched taken apart with fifty caliber rounds six months ago. She was the other half of an equation she'd long thought solved.

There was no question in her mind that Gretel, or Greta as she was calling herself, would die.

The only question was whether or not Rock would join her.

Rock knew that the little bitch had killed two of Balalaika's soldiers. Two of the men she held closer to her heart than her own life. Rock knew what it meant for someone to kill a soldier of Hotel Moscow.

Balalaika ruthlessly crushed the small part of her that hoped Rock didn't know.

She knew the Japanese bastard was smart enough to have connected the dots before she herself had.

oOo

Author's Notes:

I gotta admit, guys... I'm getting a wee bit burned out writing all of this character development stuff. Once this arc is finished, I'm probably going to take a break for an arc to recharge the creative batteries. When I opened OpenOffice to write this chapter it kinda felt like a chore, which I never take as a good sign.

It's partly the reason this chapter is mainly comedy/action. Aside from the beginning and end, it's pretty much filler.

I'm going to be finishing up this arc very soon... So it's time for you all to hit up the poll I've organized to determine which arc I should go with next. Clicky-clicky on my profile and the poll is right up at the top, plain as day.

Both are action-oriented. You all simply get to choose which arc I write. One option has Ranma and Ryouga working with Eda, the second has Ranma and Ryouga heading back to Japan. They're more or less self-contained, so go ahead and vote now! The winner gets written next!