Recap: Tachi Kuno, Nabiki's daughter, was been sent to the 
Joketsuzoku Amazons by her mother for some as-yet undisclosed reason.  
While there, she and her friend Shun Kuonji were caught in the middle of 
a battle between the village and a dragon over the well being of Mousse 
and Shampoo's daughter, Brook.

* * * * *

	Brook's running off left Tachi in a quandry.  _Do I stay here, or 
do I follow her?  Mousse and Shampoo are talking about the past, and I need 
clues if I'm to play my mother's game.  But Brook is upset.  I'm not sure 
she should be alone._
	Tachi shook her head.  _She's a big girl, and with her looks and 
charming personality, I'm sure she's got plenty of friends here.  She 
doesn't need one more._  She frowned.  _And an "outworld" one at that._
	With a start, Tachi realized that her moment of introspection had 
almost let her quarry get away.  She stood up quickly, dislodging a bit 
of debris in her haste to follow Mousse and Shampoo.  _Smooth one, Tachi.  
Satsuke'd throw a fit if he heard how much noise you were making._  
Suitably self-chastised, the mercenary girl searched for a useful patch 
of shadow among the ruins.  Spotting one, she quietly slunk through the 
night after the older Joketsuzoku warriors.

* * * * *

	*Are you sure she's following us?* Mousse asked Shampoo.  He held 
a mirror up to his face, ostensibly to fix his wind-blown hair.  *I don't 
see anything.*
	*That's because she's good.*  Shampoo took the mirror from her 
lover's hand.  *There's no way you could spot her now, not without your 
glasses.  My hearing is better than yours, though.*  She brushed her 
long, purple hair behind her ears.  *That's one of the few benefits of 
this curse you convinced me to keep.*  She handed the mirror back; it 
vanished up one of Mousse's sleeves.
	*Do you regret that decision?*
	*My other body is useless, Mousse.  Oh, yes, I can climb trees 
better, and I can fit in tight spaces.  That does me a fat lot of good.  
At least you can fly.*
	*You can always return to Jusenkyo.  I certainly won't stop you.*
	Shampoo shook her head.  *No, I've grown too used to it now.  We've 
been this way for more than half our lives now.  And I do agree with your 
theories about the Musk Dynasty.*  She poked him in the arm.  *I do 
regret letting you read Brook those Xanth novels when she was growing up, 
though.*
	*It seemed like the best way to explain our rather unique situation.*
	*Not "unique," Mousse.  Ranko Saotome and Ran Hibiki come to mind.*
	Mousse waved his arm wide.  *Unique among the Joketsuzoku, then.*
	Shampoo stopped walking.  *Is that why the dragon chose her, then?*
	*I don't know.*  Mousse took Shampoo's hands in his.  *We've 
rarely had such rains before, and I don't remember a monster of this 
caliber ever attacking the village.  If I didn't know better, I would 
thing that Ranma was nearby, or that we'd been cursed with his luck...  
Tell me, has Brook been having problems with boys lately?*
	Shampoo laughed.  *Boys?  Hardly.  I think she considers them 
all sub-human.  There's no one in Joketsuzoku man enough to win her 
affections.*
	Mousse gave his lover a wry smile.  *That won't stop some people 
from trying.*
	*True.  But the answer is still no.  She hasn't told me of any 
unwanted suitors.*
	*Well she certainly has one now.*
	Shampoo tightened her grip on Mousse's hands.  *What are we going 
to do?  The other Amazons are helpless against the dragon, and I'm not 
that much better.  I still haven't mastered the <insert hurricane attack 
thing here>-*
	*That wouldn't help,* Mousse interrupted.  *There is no way you'd 
be able to get a storm dragon hot enough, especially if it has the power 
to control the weather.*
	*Then you tell me.  I'm the traditionalist; you're the one with 
all the clever ideas.  What are you going to do?  Shoot it again?  That 
trick won't work a second time.*
	*No, it won't.*  Mousse shook his head.  *If only Brook hadn't 
reacted the way she did.  I had the beast dead to rights.*
	*So what can we do?*  There was a touch of panic in Shampoo's 
determination.  *I will not give up my daughter without a fight, but I 
don't want to throw my life away uselessly.*
	*We need help.  The dragon will want to heal; that should be long 
enough for Nabiki to send me a bigger gun.*
	*No!*  Shampoo pulled away.  *Mousse, what are you thinking?  You 
were nearly exiled over a twentieth century shotgun!  If you show up 
carrying a plasma projector or a particle cannon, I won't be able to save 
you from the matriarchs.*
	Mousse was grim.  *So be it.  I wasn't bluffing when I defied them.*
	*But if we're sending away for help, why not call Ranma?  He 
could stop the dragon easily enough, and the matriarchs would only be 
displeased, not angry.*  Shampoo's eyes were teary.  *I know he'd come, for 
old times sake if nothing else,* she added wistfully
	Mousse turned away.  *I have my pride.  I will not hide behind 
someone else, not when my own abilities will serve.*
	*But the price is too high!  What happened to the boy who would 
have accepted a thrown fight just to date me?*
	*He let Cologne torture him for a year so he could learn enough 
to fight her and win.*  Mousse shook his head.  *You know that boy is 
gone now.  Cologne might as well have killed him.*

* * * * *

	Brook ran through the village, hopping from rooftop to rooftop.  
Then she ran out of huts.  "Hey, come back," she heard a high, childlike 
voice call down from below.  "I said- oh, uh."  There was an embarassed 
pause.  *Come back here.*
	_The weak outworld girl needs help._  For a moment, Brook 
considered letting the weakling fend for herself.  Why should the best 
warrior of their generation stoop to chasing children?  The devastation 
around her sparked the compassion in the odango-haired girl's soul, 
though.  She could not in good conscience let a child run free through 
the rubble.  It might get hurt.
	A short hop to the ground later Brook stood in the path of the 
running child.  She bent down to pick it up, then straightened hurridly 
when she saw the blurry man-shape that was Shun.
	*Thank you, Brook.*  There was a while blob where Shun's hands 
should be; the Amazon assumed it was a diaper.
	*Here.*  She handed Shun the giggling child.  *Watch the children 
better next time.*
	*Too much work.  Too little workers.  You help?*
	*Of course she'll help.*  The new speaker was Myrrh, who stepped 
from behind one of the battle-damaged huts.  He had been hurt in the 
fighting; a bandage was inexpertly wound around his head, covering his 
left eye.  *I'm sure Brook would be wonderful with children.*
	Brook spoke slowly.  "Go away, Myrrh.*
	*But it's true.*  Myrrh took the child from Shun and held it up.  
*See, she likes you, Brook.*  Myrrh smirked.  "She's got good taste.*
	Shun shook his head.  "Man, that's pathetic," he muttered.  "Even 
pig-boy Ran has more style."
	Brook glared at her would-be suitor, eyes flashing with anger.  
Her shoulders tensed.  Her hands curled into fists.  Then she spun on 
her heels and stomped away, unable to hit the stupid boy while he hid 
behind his toddler shield.
	Myrrh, unable to take a hint, followed her.  *Brook, wait up!  
Let me walk you wherever you're going!*
	Shun blinked.  "The guy's not just pathetic; he's dense, too."  
Then he joined the parade, calling, "Hey, you, come back here with that kid."
 ______
{B-{=_
rmckenzi@euclid.ucsd.edu : The White-Robed Mathematician