Friends~

Thank you for the feedback.  It was all positive, but it pointed out
that I needed to rework the fic a bit.  I admit, I'm not that familiar
with Ranma himself, but I plan to fix that.  ^_^  Anyway, I fixed a
couple things...hope you like the improved version as much as you liked
the original!

Disclaimer is at the end of the section.  Comments, questions, love
letters, flames and emailed nuclear devices can be sent to
cougar_chan@yahoo.com

Domo arigato for your time and patience!
~Cougar

****TIME IS OUT OF JOINT****

	  	"Let us go in together,
And still your fingers on your lips I pray.
The time is out of joint - O cursed spite,
That ever I was born to set it right!"
	~William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act I, Scene 5

{Part 1:  Timeslip, or, "That's One Wrong Step For A Man..."}

****

"You do not understand the severity of the situation here, 
people!"

Ranma stifled a yawn as Professor Nakomora launched into 
yet another rant about the importance of space exploration 
and the slow decline of space programs around the world.  
The man was a brilliant astro-physicist, but he seemed a 
couple pupils short of a dojo.  The other students were 
either shocked by the intensity of his speaking or simply 
stared since they had no clue about anything they were 
hearing.  Their own fault for not reading the text, Ranma 
thought.

Not that he was a big fan of homework, but he did like 
to know what was going on in the class. His previous
teachers had sometimes found Ranma to be a struggle,
but astro-physics and chemisty actually grabbed Ranma's
attention.  Both involved, to some extent, blowing stuff
up.  And, for a young man, there's nothing wrong with that.
Ranma found, however, his attention was wandering, and his 
eyes began to take in all the high-tech equipment in 
the professor's lab.  The college had paid for most of 
it, but some of it had come in from independant contractors.
Some said it was because Nakomora was performing
illegal experiments.  Most people who said that were
passed off as wackos.  

One device in particular caught Ranma's attention.  It
sat against the wall, surrounded by various other
clutter.  It was about two and a half meters tall, or
around actually, since the device was a large circular
ring, almost like a portal Ranma thought...

"Mister Saotome?"

Ranma snapped his head around to see Professor Nakomora
smiling down at him.  He practically fell out of his 
seat then stood and bowed.

"Forgive me, Nakomora-sensei, my mind was not on the
lessons..."

"No, it wasn't.  But it was on something far more 
valuable."

Puzzled by this, Ranma watched as the professor cleard
some clutter away from the sides of the circular 
device, then beckoned the younger man over.  Ranma
approached with trepidation.  

"What is is, Nakomora-sensei?"

"It's my time machine, Ranma-san!  With this you can
go...ANYWHERE!"

Ranma felt his eyebrow rising of it's own accord.

"A...time machine?  Like H.G. Wells and Dr. Who?"

"Well, something like that.  But far better, because
this one's real!  Look!"

He turned the thing on.  In the center of the metal 
ring was suddenly a torrential downpour.  Ranma took 
a step back in shock, then looked past the rain
to see a castle on a hill.

"Want to take a trip to medieval Germany?" 
Nakomora asked with a grin.  Ranma gaped at him.

"This...what is this really, just a hologram or 
something, right?"

"Put your hand in, Ranma-san, if you don't believe me."

Ranma complied.  He had heard of holograms before,
and a projection like this could be done even without
the benefits of cutting-edge technology...but
when he put his hand through the portal, he *felt* 
the rain hitting his hand.  His skin turned cold in
the breeze.  Around his hand, the image rippled, as
if he'd dipped it in a pool of water.  At least the 
rain's warm, he thought absently.

"Take it out, Ranma...and watch."

Ranma pulled his hand out and Nakomora touched some
controls.  The image shifted, and Ranma was looking
at a bustling city.  He was amazed to see little
air-cars zipping around.  Again, Ranma stuck his hand 
and felt the sunlight on his skin.

"Hey, Nakomora-sensei!" called a voice.  The professor 
looked past Ranma and began to walk around the young 
man. As he passed, his elbow accidentaly hit Ranma 
square in the back.  Ranma went through the portal 
with a yelp.

Hearing the short, choked-off yell, Nakomora spun.  His 
assistant ran over.  

"Clear that stuff outta here!" Nakomora yelled, gesturing
at the various beakers and test tubes his assistant had 
set up next to the time machine.  The young lady complied 
as the professor walked around to the portal and looked in.
Ranma stood in the middle of the city street and was dodging
traffic.  Nakomora was about to reach through the portal and 
grab Ranma when he heard a crash.

And a muffled "Oops."

He looked over to see a broken bottle labeled -CARBONIC
ACID- laying on top of the thick power cords for the time
machine.  The ultra-corrosive material ate through the
cords like a hungry student tore through a sushi platter.
And with the amount of juice in the wires, Nakomora knew
there wasn't much time.  He grabbed his young assistant
by the scruff of her neck and yanked her away before the 
lab exploded into flames.  

"You all right?" Nakomora managed between coughs as sirens
rang out in the early evening.  His assistant nodded.  The
professor stood and looked at his lab, and the flames that
lapped around the sides of the doorframe as the security 
door, a heavy slab of metal, began to come down.

"Professor, will he be all right?  Ranma, I mean."

"He's a good lad, he should be able to take care of himself.
But all my research and all my materials were in that lab...
It would take me years to build another time machine.
Ranma needs to figure out a way back...on his own."

As Professor Nakomora fell silent, the security door 
slammed home.  It was a sound of doom, of lamentation,
for the lab and all his work, for his favorite student, 
and for his career, and life as both he and Ranma 
knew it...

****

"Outta the way you big idiot!"

Ranma dodged both the oncoming car and the insults streaming
from the driver.  Everything seemed faster, more colorful,
almost like he'd just stepped into a comic book.  Well, 
this comic book seemed to have homicidal drivers in it, so
Ranma turned to step right back out.

The protal was gone.

Ranma let out an elaborate curse and stepped onto the
sidewalk.  Great...now he was stuck in wherever - no,
WHENever - this was, with little money and less visible
support.  But as he passed an electroics store, he saw
something that made him realise he did have one asset.

On the televisions was a fight.  A very good fight.

A tall man with wild hair was fighting another man...with
green skin?  Ranma looked closer...the opponent was some 
kind of monster or alien or something. But the fight was
fast, and mean.  They were obviously a match for each other,
from what Ranma could see, which wasn't much.  He turned 
away from the screens and suddenly realised three things.

Firstly, he had to figure a way out of here.  That was clear.
There had to be some way for him to get home, in this high-
tech world.  

Secondly, as long as he was here, he needed to make the
most of things.  A way home would probably take work,
and with no money and no visible support, that meant he'd 
have to fight for a living.  No big deal...most other
fighters on this planet probably had never even heard
of the 'Anything Goes' Martial Arts school.

And thirdly, he had to meet the man in the screen.  
Either to learn from him, or to beat him in combat. He
walked over to a pedestrian that was watching the 
screens.

"Say, who's that guy fighting the green goon?" he asked.

"Oh, that's Son Goku!" the other replied.  "Best fighter in
the world!  This was his title bout with Pic-"

Ranma didn't hear him as a car slammed into a parked truck 
behind him.  Ranma grabbed the pedestrian and took them down as
the vehicles exploded.  Sirens wailed and in no time two fire
trucks were in position.  The first one opened up it's hoses 
flawlessly, but the second one's water was manned by a volunteer
on his first day out in the real world.  His calibration was off,
and instead of hitting the truck, he hit Ranma with the blast of 
cold water.

"Holy cow!"  He said.  "I'm sorry, I..."

The firefighter gaped as the drenched woman glared at him.  The
fires were out and the survivors were being helped from the 
vehicle, so the firefighter tore his gaze from her and went to 
help.  Ranma sighed and truged off to find a source of hot 
water as a covertable full of guys hooted and hollered at her.

There was a fourth thing, she told herself.  This day is getting 
worse.

****

"I'm trying to find Son Goku," Ranma repeated.

The operator transfered him.  Again.  Ranma violently 
fought with the urge to slam the phone into the glass
side of the booth repeatedly.  But that wouldn't help
matters. At least there were no fire trucks around, but
finding a bucket and hot water to put it in had been a 
pain.

"I believe a have a number here, sir," an operator
finally said.  "It is the home of his old sensei..."

"Well, put me through already!" Ranma demanded.  Looks
like the future wasn't as great as all those American
sci-fi flicks made it look.

"Hello?" said a female voice.

"Hi, I'm trying to find Son Goku."

There was a very audible pause.  Ranma wondered
what landmine he'd just stepped on.

"Well, he can't come to the phone right now, he's a 
little DEAD!" the woman finally said, obviously 
about to become emotional.

"Oh...I am so sorry.  I won't bother you a-"

"Why are you looking for him?" The woman interrupted.
"You're not some schlock reporter are you?"

"No!"  Ranma felt his temperature rising.  This was 
turning into a hot bath he did *not* want to take.
"I saw him fight and wanted to test my skills against
him.  I didn't know he...um, I'm, uh, new here."

"Oh, you're, uh, new here?" the voice repeated a bit mockingly. 

"Yeah," Ranma replied, expecting the phone to get hung up at
any moment.

"How did you come to be, uh, new here?"

"I..." Ranma considered lying, but he'd been through enough
crazy events in his life that this was just one more on top
of everything else.  "I was pushed through a time portal that
kind of blew up behind me."

To his shock, the voice turned from irritation to excitement.

"Really??  You went through a time machine!  Cool!  Hey, don't
move, a couple friends are gonna come pick you up for me!"

Ranma was taken back by the sudden mood swing.  "Um...okay."

"What's your name again?"

"Ranma.  Ranma Saotome."

"Okay, seeya!"

The line closed.  Ranma hung up the phone back and walked out 
to wait outside.  He didn't have to wait long...a small aircraft
that resembled a car with little wings landed at the corner he was
standing on.  The top swung open and a young man with long dark 
hair and a couple scars smiled at Ranma.

"You Ranma?" he asked.

"Yep."

"Hop in!  I'll take you for a little spin before we head to the
Kame House."

Ranma did so, and was thrown back in his seat as the thing took
off.  The driver grinned.

"Oh yeah. You might wanna buckle up."

"Thanks," Ranma said darkly, and buckled his seat belt.

"Yamcha, that's no way to treat a guest!"  said a small voice 
behind Ranma. He turned to see a small floating cat behind him.
He just about leapt out of his seat again.  

"What the...?!?"

Ranma felt his mouth getting dry.  Oh no.  Not now, not at
this altitude...

"Ranma, this is Pooaru.  My best friend!"

"Hello!"  The blue cat landed in Ranma's lap and smiled up at him.

Ranma screamed.  Yamcha fought to keep the car under control,
as there was a sudden drop in air pressure created by
Ranma's explosive exit.  Pooaru looked positively mortified.

"Oh my goodness gracious!  What have I done?"

"Scared the crap outta the kid and blown a hole in my
slick new ride!" Yamcha replied through gritted teeth.
Luckily, they were over water, not far from the Kame 
House.  To Yamcha's right, the direction the hole was, 
he saw a long white streak hit the water.  Now that he
had the car under control again, he swooped down.  A 
hand reached up and a rather attractive and drenched 
woman pulled herself in.

"Thanks," she said.  "Sorry about your car.  I have...
a thing...about...cats..."

"Um...do I..."

The woman looked at him, then smacked her forehead. She
looked around and saw a Thermos between the seats.

"What's in this?" she asked.

"Um...tea..."  Damn it, Yamcha thought, there I go being
shy in front of women again...

"Good."  The lady picked the Thermos up, unscrewed the top,
and dumped the tea over her head.  Yamcha watched (as did 
Pooaru, hiding behind Yamcha's leg) as the woman's shape
changed before his eyes to become the young man named
Ranma.

"How...how did you...?"

"It's my curse.  And the only way to stop the Neko Ken."

"Oh...right.  Look, I'll just, uh, set us down..."

"Okay," Ranma said, somewhat enjoying the shocked look
that was still on Yamcha's face.

The car set down on the small island, and Ranma stepped 
out.  He looked back to see the flying, talking cat 
peering warily from behind Yamcha's leg. Shaking his 
head, Ranma looked at the house, the only structure on 
the island. It was small and light pink in color, 
with the words "Kame House" painted on the side.

The front door opened.  Ranma had to contain his shock.  
He'd seen weird things before, but a turtle answering the 
door was not one of them.

"Can I help you?" the turtle asked him in a very calm voice.
Talking usually wasn't in a turtle's repertoire, either.

"Um...yes.  I'm looking for a Master Roshi.  I'm Ranma 
Saotome."

"Ah, yes, Ranma.  Master Roshi has been expecting you."

"Hey, Turtle!" came an old man's voice.  "Who is it?"

"It's the young man Ranma, Master Roshi!"

An old man walked out of the door, stood behind the turtle, 
and appraised Ranma.  He wore dark glasses and one of his 
bushy white eyebrows was raised as if he was weighing the 
value of something he wanted to buy.  One hand stroked his 
long white beard and moustache.

"So you're Ranma," the old man said.  "Tell me...where have 
you studied?"

"I am a student of 'Anything Goes' Martial Arts school, 
sensei."

"Ahhh, yes, I have heard of that school.  A very fine one. 
But no one has heard from that school in some time."

"You'll remember, sensei, that I am from a different time."  
But Ranma beamed - the old man had heard of his school!  
Definitely a plus.

"Yes, Bulma said something about that."

Bulma.  So that was her name.  Ranma remembered to file that 
away somewhere.

"Well," Master Roshi said, "if you wanna stay here, you have 
to earn your keep.  You'll have to train with me, look after 
the house, and what ever else I can think of.  Clear?"

Ick.  The thought of doing household chores again left a bad 
taste in his mouth.  Especially since this guy had no idea of 
Ranma's secret.  However, better here than trying to get an 
apartment in the already-overcrowed cities.  So Ranma swallowed 
his pride and bowed.

"Hai, sensei.  Perfectly clear."

"Great!  Now, it's time to prove yourself."

Ranma's head snapped up.  While he never backed down from a challenge, 
Master Roshi's assisstant Bulma had said nothing on the phone 
about having to prove his skills.  He had no idea what people in 
this time were like as far as fighting was concerned.  But now was 
as good a time as any to find out.  He allowed himself a self-
confident smirk and dropped into a defensive stance.  Master Roshi 
nodded his approval.

"Now, young Ranma, attack me, as hard as you can."

Ranma's smirk grew.  Master Roshi was nice, but boy did he have
no idea what he was in for.  Ranma leapt at Master Roshi...

And suddenly felt an old but strong hand grab his arm.  He saw
the ground rushing up to meet him and the air blew out of him
when he hit.  He turned over to see Master Roshi standing over
him.

"That was good...I almost didn't move fast enough to throw you
gently."

"Sorry," said Ranma.  Damn!  First flying cars, then talking
turtles, now old men that moved like greased lightning.  
"I've gotta learn that move."  

Master Roshi grinned.  "Don't worry, Ranma, it's not a bad 
thing to lose to me.  I *am* the World Martial Arts Tournament
Champion, after all..."

"You mean you were, you old coot. It was fifty years ago!"

Ranma sat up and looked at the Kame House.  Standing there was
a tall woman with blue hair and eyes and a shapely figure.  Her 
arms were crossed, and Ranma knew from the voice and the 
attitude that this was the woman he'd spoken with on the 
phone.

"Aw, Bulma, cut me a little slack!  I mean, I haven't 
commented on how sexy you look all week!"

"Not until now, that is."  She turned to Ranma.  "You'll 
have to excuse Master Roshi.  He's old and perverted."

"Just because I know a good ass when I see one..."

"Holy...!  Yamcha, what happened to your car!"  Bulma grabbed 
a toolkit from somewhere and marched towards the damaged
air car.

"Master Roshi," Ranma said, "I have to level with you.
I really came here to figure out a way to get back to 
my own time.  While I know there's a lot I could learn from you,
Master Roshi, I really should get home."

Before Akane marries someone else, Ranma silently added, and 
before Ukyo does something silly because she misses me so
much...

"What about the Dragonballs?" Bulma asked.  Ranma felt 
his brows knit.  Dragon's balls?  They had dragons here, too?
And he had to go find one and castrate it?  Roshi shrugged.

"I don't know, Bulma, but I don't think we have the time
now for that.  Ranma here's got a lot of potential, if I 
can teach him everything I know in 88 days."

"Why?" Ranma asked, not sure he wanted his question answered.
While time wouldn't be a factor, as long as he kept his eyes
on Master Roshi, he wanted to know why that figure was so 
important.  "What happens in 88 days?"

Bulma, Master Roshi, and the sea turtle all looked at him with
very dour expressions.

"The Saiyajin come," Bulma said quietly.  

"Who?"

"The Saiyajin," Master Roshi explained, "are the same race as
Son Goku.  They're peerless warriors, the most powerful we've
ever faced, and two of them are coming to Earth to cleanse it
and auction it off."

Ranma suddenly cursed himself silently for being so selfish.
He could imagine how he must have sounded, "I wanna go home,
I wanna go home."  It wouldn't be a manly thing to do.  And 
Ranma was a man, through and through, no matter his form.  He
had to keep reminding himself of that.  Training and fighting 
was a good way to do that.  And now it seemed they needed 
fighters.  

Ranma considered that for a moment.  Perhaps he was meant to 
have been bumped into the portal?  He pushed his sudden doubts
about the validity of coincidences away and looked at 
Master Roshi.

"Can we beat them?"

"If Goku makes it back in time...perhaps.  Krillin, Yamcha, 
Tienshinhan and Chao-zu have gone to Kami's lookout to
train for the coming battle...and Son Gohan is training
with Piccolo...but..."

"Let me help."

Master Roshi and Bulma looked up at Ranma.

"It's obvious that with these Saiyajin people coming, I
won't be able to get home.  And I can't just sit idly
by while the fate of the world is decided.  This may not
be my time, but this is my world too.  You say I've got 
potential, Master Roshi, and that we have 88 days."

Master Roshi nodded.

"Well, let's get started then!"

"Surely not before we eat!" Bulma said.  Seeing Master Roshi's
look, she added "Don't worry, Chi-chi cooked tonight."

Master Roshi grinned as he watched Bulma turn and walk back in.
He then patted Ranma on the back.

"I think you'll do fine, my boy.  Just fine."

And Ranma found himself smiling.

Maybe today wasn't so bad after all.

It was tomorrow, and the 88 days after that, that worried him now...

~~TO BE CONTINUED~~

******DISCLAIMER******

Ranma 1/2 and DragonBall Z and the characters of these manga/anime
series belong to Rumiko Takahashi and Akira Toriyama, respectively.  I
am using their characters without their permission, but I am in no way
profiting or plan to profit from the publication of this work.  This
work is simply for the enjoyment of the fans, something that
Rumiko-chan and Akira-sama also do, only for a living.  Please enjoy
the story and don't sue me...please?  ^_^

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