I told y'all I wasn't dead yet... I even tried posting this a 
week ago, but funny server problems delayed it.
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	In a world where all the Ranmaverse pairings went the way a Konatsu 
fan would expect, Tachi Kuno, daughter of Kuno and Nabiki, was sent to 
the Joketsuzoku Amazons by her mother.  While having dinner with Mousse, 
Shampoo, and their daughter Brook, a dragon attacked the village.  Mousse 
managed to chase it off, but just barely...

	Tachi left off her eavesdropping and ran back to Mousse's hut.  
It had survived the dragon's rage intact; Mousse lived on the outskirts of 
the village, away from the heart of the battle.
	The mercenary girl didn't bother to knock.  She just kicked at the 
door in an imitation of Shampoo, then kicked it a second time, more 
carefully, as the unlocked door flew open and slammed shut from the force 
of her first blow.
	Her luggage was still stacked against the wall; one frantic 
search later and it was spread out across the floor.  <Come on, come on, 
where would he have hidden it?  I know I didn't bring a phone, but 
there's no way Dad'd let me leave the country without one.  He'd have 
Satsuke hide it somewhere.>
	Tachi pulled her sonic penknife out of her pocket and slit open the 
seams of her dufflebag.  "There's nothing here!"  She slumped to the 
floor, free hand on her forehead as she tried to puzzle things out.  <Mom 
wouldn't have given Satsuke conflicting instructions.  She talks big 
about taking risks, but she always leaves a way out.  To many crazy 
things happen back home to make anything a sure bet.  But she does like 
challenges...>  Tachi sat up, snapping her fingers.  "Of course."
	Reducing Shun's luggage to scraps didn't take very long, either.  
Hidden in the lining of his suitcase was a hermetically-sealed pouch 
wrapped in a pink bow.  Tachi untied the ribbon, then yanked hard at the 
"tear here to open" strip.  A satellite-linked cel-phone fell into her 
eager hands.
	It started ringing before Tachi could even dial.  ^Whadayawant,^ 
a grainy picture of a sleep-groggy Nabiki asked from the other end.
	"Mom?"
	That woke the businesswoman up.  ^Tachi?  What happened?^
	"Uh, Mom, there's a dragon."
	^How big?^
	"What do you mean, 'How big?'  Big enough to make me call home."
	Kuno leaned his way into the picture.  ^That much we understood, 
Daughter.  What your mother meant to ask was: 'How much and what kind of 
help you require?'^
	Nabiki shrugged bare shoulders.  ^Quantitative statements still 
come easiest to me, particularly this early in the morning.^
	The door to the hut was thrown open dramatically.  "We need a 
man-portable particle projection cannon," Mousse's silhouette declared.  
"If you can't find one, I can make do with any piece of twentieth century 
field artillery you can send me.  Howitzers aren't that heavy, after 
all.  I should be able to handle the recoil from one."
	Nabiki whistled.  ^Sneaking that past customs in a hurry is not 
going to be easy.^
	Shampoo shoved Mousse out of the way and grabbed the phone from 
Tachi.  "No!  You no send guns.  You send Ranma!"
	^That might prove to be just as difficult,^ Kuno said.  ^My 
brother-in-law has taken his daughter on yet another training trip.  
Something about keeping her out of mischief while her partner in crime 
was away.^  He was silent for a moment, thinking.  ^Ryoga and I could come 
instead.^
	Tachi took her phone back.  "Father, you know there's no way you 
can get pig-boy Ran's dad here fast enough to do any good.  He'd get lost 
before you reached the airport."
	^Well, then, that leaves outsmarting this dragon.^  Nabiki 
frowned.  ^And that is something you should be able to do on your own, 
Tachi.^
	"I, I got worried.  Mousse and Shampoo were saying that they 
couldn't beat this thing by themselves, and I saw how ineffectual the 
other Amazons were."
	^Well, then, call me back when you _really_ need help.^  Nabiki's 
hand covered the screen, which then went blank as the connection was cut.
	"Well," Tachi sighed, "that was useless."  She folded the screen 
closed, and the phone beeped twice as it shut itself off.
	Mousse picked his way across the laundry-strewn floor.  "Consider 
it a fitting punishment for eavesdropping, then."
	"Huh?  Who cares about eavesdropping?  My mom certainly doesn't, 
and she's the one I've lost points with."
	Mousse swept a pile of toiletries from the top of a nearby stool.  
A compact had been hidden in the pile; he made a grab for it once he 
realized it was something that could break if it hit the floor.  "Oh, 
really?" he drawled, bouncing the plastic case in his hand.
	"Oh, really!"  Tachi parroted.  She took the compact from him, 
looked around the room, then tossed it on a pile of clothing.
	"You will clean this up."  It wasn't a question.
	"Later.  The dragon is more important now."
	Mousse smiled.  "Exactly.  You mother told you to think of a way 
out of this problem.  Experience has taught me that mindless chores help 
a person to think.  I would suggest you now start doing both."

* * * * *

	Shampoo followed Mousse outside.  *What is going on?* she 
demanded.  *We have no hope for a rescue, Nabiki leaves her daughter in 
danger, and you suddenly become inscruitibly calm.  Have you become 
suicidal?  You've certainly been acting without any regard for your own 
safety.*
	*I have faith in Nabiki.*
	*And I have faith in Ranma, but neither of them are here right now.*
	Mousse stepped around a deep puddle.  *Tachi is, though.  And 
Nabiki has faith in _her_.*
	Shampoo laughed so hard she had to stop walking.  *You're pinning 
our hopes on that child?  The minute she ran into trouble she called home 
to her mommie.*
	*She called _Nabiki_.*  Mousse poked Shampoo in the chest.  *_You_ 
wanted to call Ranma.  I'd say Tachi wins that contest.*
	Shampoo grabbed his finger.  *Watch your hands, mister.*
	*Why?  I've done more.*
	*That was years ago.  And right now I'm certainly _not_ in the mood.*
	*As you wish.*  She let go, and he folded his hands in the 
sleeves of his robes.  *The point I'm trying to make is that we have a 
young girl who's just been bounced from one desperate situation to 
another.  You know how helpless she was the first time-*
	*She was trying to-*
	Mousse covered her mouth with his hand.  *Let's not assign blame 
for that now; for us it is ancient history, while for her it is a fresh 
wound.  No, instead, let's look at this last battle.  It couldn't have 
helped her self-confidence.  We were knocked out of the fighting too 
early, and the villagers resorted to pure force.*
	Shampoo bit him.  *Yes.  If we get enough force, we win.*
	*No.*  Mousse flexed his fingers; Shampoo hadn't quite drawn 
blood.  *Nabiki has made it clear that pure force is not an option.  Even 
if it was, we'd just face another argument.  You will not accept 
technological force, and I will not accept allies.  In any event, if 
force will not win, then we must resort to trickery.*
	Shampoo pouted.  *I don't like it.  That was Cologne's way, and 
you saw where it got us.*
	Mousse nodded.  *But it was also Nabiki's way, and you know where 
_that_ got us.  Tachi is Nabiki's heir; she just needs to realize it for 
herself.*

* * * * *

	Myrrh was annoying Brook.
	This wasn't unusual; he'd been doing just that on and off for a 
month now, ever since he appeared at the village.  Under ordinary 
circumstances the odango-haired girl would just punt her obsessive suitor 
towards the horizon.  He'd show up a day or two later, and the cycle 
would repeat itself over again.
	Unfortunately, the circumstances tonight were not ordinary.
	The dragon's attack had wrecked most of the village, and the Amazons 
needed all the hands they could find.  That meant Brook couldn't boot Myrrh 
out of her way.  She tried sending him on lengthy errands in the hope of 
finding a few minutes of peace, but he always came back to her, more 
whiney and obnoxious than before.
	The other villagers were no help.  The older women, displeased 
with Mousse, left his daughter to her own devices while the younger 
women, girls her own age, pretended to ignore Brook's distress.  The 
violet-haired Amazon heard their hidden snickering, though.  It was only 
her eyes that were weak, not her ears.
	She held her head high in the face of their scorn.  The other 
teenagers were just jealous, after all.  In contest after contest she'd 
proven herself to be the strongest warrior of her generation.  She also 
knew herself to be the most beautiful girl the village had to offer.  It 
was a shame the others chose to be petty rather than accept reality.
	It didn't help that Myrrh openly acknowledged her superiority.  
Such constant, sycophantic praise coming from the mouth of an idiot was 
almost enough to make Brook doubt the truth of his claims.
	She felt his footsteps, heard the wheezing of his asthmatic 
breath.  He came closer; now Brook could make out the smell she 
associated with him: slime and a hint of ozone.  She closed her eyes, 
trying in vain to think of another mindless task to set him to.
	*Hey, you,* she heard a high-pitched voice say in broken Chinese.  
*You come here.  You help me.*
	*But I'm sure Brook wants me to-*
	*Go with the outworlder girl, Myrrh,* Brook commanded, seizing her 
chance with both hands.  *She's new here and she needs your help.*
	*Are you sure, Bro-*
	*Go!*
	The thin outlander dragged a protesting Myrrh away.  Brook thought 
she saw a wave or a salute come from Shun, and almost responded in kind, 
but paused, arm half-raised.  She wasn't sure of what she had seen, and 
didn't want to imply she owed the outworlder anything.
	She had an image to maintain, after all.
 ______
{8-{=__
rmckenzi@euclid.ucsd.edu : The White-Robed Mathematician