Quickie

a Ranma1/2 fanfiction
by Ukyou Kuonji


  We�ve walked several wards over from Nerima, so none of our friends 
(such as they are) would recognize us.  We would�ve simply met here, 
for greater security, but I worry about him finding the place.  It�s 
not the sort of thing he would go looking for (not that *I�ve* ever 
gone looking for one, either), and anyway he�s just not as familiar 
with this part of Tokyo as I am.
  So here we stand, ready to walk in.  Sort of.  We look at each other.
  �I can�t believe we�re doing this.�  Neither can I.
  HOTEL PHANTASIE
  QUICKIE  �5,000
  OVERNIGHT  �11,000
  He swallows hard.  I wonder if he really wants to do this.  Maybe 
I ought to give him a chance.  �Look, we can back out if you�d rather.
We can still call it off and go home.�
  That straightens him out.  �No way.  We�ve come this far, we might 
as well go all the way.�  He smiles at his little joke.
  �Okay, then.  Lead on, darling.�
  The thought of actually going inside makes him flinch.  His hand 
goes up to his face.  Is he covering his nose?  No matter.  I take 
his upraised arm, like a girl on a prom date.  Slowly, he brings his 
hand down and looks at me in wonder.  Then, he breaks into a smile, 
and together we walk inside.
  The tiny lobby is empty, save for a counter only a few feet from us.
A small window slides open, and the face of a tiny mama-san squints 
out at us.  �Quickie or overnight?�  Once again, his face flushes.
  �Uh... quickie, I guess.�  He shrugs his backpack off his shoulders.
  The mama-san notices his bundle.  �You�re packed for a longer stay, 
aren�t you?�
  �Erm... no, actually, I always carry this with me.�  After a little 
bit of rummaging around, he pulls out a few bills, and places them 
on the counter, where they are immediately snatched from sight.
  �You�ve got two hours.  You can buy more time if you want to then. 
Room 106.�  and the window shuts.  There is a buzzing noise, and we 
realize we�re to open the door next to the counter.  He waves me 
forward.
  �Ladies first.�  I give him a slightly cock-eyed look, and open the
door.  Once inside the hallway, we notice a key dropping into a little
receptacle.  Must be what we�re looking for.  I pick it up.  �I still 
can�t believe we�re doing this.�
  �Me neither.�  He looks around.  �I hope there aren�t any windows.�
We pass by several other rooms on our way, of course.  He cocks his 
head; apparently he hears something.  Yep.  He�s turning crimson.
  �You�re not supposed to be paying attention to that...�  I warn him.
  �Eh... heh-heh.  It that what it sounds like?�
  Not that I know any better, but why not give him the implication 
that I do?  �Stick around, and you�ll find out.�  I give him a sultry 
look.
  Room 106.  He slips the key into the lock and opens the door.  Wow...
it�s beautiful in here.  Thick shag carpeting, dim lighting... and of 
course, the bed.  It�s round, and huge, a gorgeous playground of... 
heh, heh.  Of course, *he�s* just happy to not see any windows.  
�Finally.  Alone at last.�
  I have to nod.  �Yeah.  No prying eyes, no gossiping classmates...�
  �...and no blackmailing Nabiki.  These two hours are expensive 
enough without having to deal with *her*.�
  �Stop worrying about the expense.  I�ll spring for this the next 
time.�  His eyes light up at the suggestion of a �next time.�  �What?
You didn�t think there�d be another one?  Come on.  The privacy�s 
cheap for the price, ne?  And as for Nabiki, well... I can handle 
her.�  I smile, caressing the large spatula strapped to my back.
  Now it�s his turn to grin.  �With that?  I thought better of you.� 
He�s starting to relax, and begins looking around at everything this 
place has to offer.  �Whoa!  Lookit all the videos they got here!�
  I unfasten my robe and slowly unwind the chest wrappings.  �Don�t 
even *think* about it.  Pay attention to *me*, not the videos, or you 
really *will* get a bloody nose, buster.�  I ball up my fist and shake
it at him; jokingly, of course.
  He sets down the tape he�s holding.  Now he sees me, naked from the 
waist up.  His eyes are really shining now.  �Right.  Who needs this 
when we�ve got each other?  The real thing is so much better, ne?�
  �You said it.  Come on, big boy, show me whatcha got.�  All too eager 
to comply, he removes his yellow muscle shirt, and then his leggings. 
Oh, yes!  He�s rarin� to go, isn�t he?  He pulls the bandana off his 
head, and a short pigtail falls down from its hiding place.  I smile.
  �Yep.  Off with the disguise, ne?�  I slip off my tights and stride 
over to him.  I give him one of my best smiles (right now, why 
wouldn�t I?) and kiss him full on the lips. 
  �You know, you really are kawaii...� he murmurs into my ear.
  I step back a moment, and put my hands on my hips.  �Hm.  After 
all this time.  Do you really mean that, Ranma?  Even with me like 
this?�  I reach up and run my fingers through my hair.  Then, with 
a quick pull, I remove the long wig, complete with bow, and I�m 
standing before him, now perfectly naked, in all my short-haired 
glory.
  �Yeah, I mean it.  I love you... Akane.�
  I smile.  �Good.  And the same goes to you.  Now, let�s get on 
with it, shall we?�
  �Tomboy.�
  �Baka.�
  Click.

***

Afterword:

The other day, I received a letter from a reader on the r.a.a.c. about 
�The Ill-Timed Cure�; he was wondering if and when I planned to do 
�a plain sappy Ranma-Akane story... like Joseph Palmer�s Seasons or 
Colours [series].�  (Please, Joseph.. I never said that about your 
work.  I�m just quoting.)   Well, lemme tell ya, this is as close as 
I�m gonna get.  And since you hentai out there probably expected 
the worst from a story basically set in a love hotel, this is a tale 
guaranteed to disappoint lotsa people.  Oh, well... it was fun to 
write it, and it gets my mind off of my troubles (even if it reminds 
me of others I have).

I realize Akane wouldn�t normally be this aggressive, but I�m sort 
of relying on the actress Akane from �The Masks We Must Wear� by 
Bob Barnes, and in that case, who�s to say about her feelings for 
Ran-chan?  Maybe they�d be more than willing to sneak off to a love 
hotel, if they thought they could get away with it.  Of course, they�d 
have to make sure they weren�t recognized...

Well, it�s seems to have wound up more like my �Suicide� than like 
anything of Palmer�s.  I guess that stands to reason.  And now that 
I�ve done a stinger on the topics of death and sex, I verily vow I 
will NOT do a story on taxes.

Lemme know whatcha think, ne?  Write me at

ukyoukwnji@aol.com

Till then, ja!

Itsu mo,
Ucchan   ^_~