Subject: [FFML] A quick revision: H: a cooking story.
From: "Robyn, Duke of Amber" <seraphim@sentex.net>
Date: 1/26/2001, 3:53 AM
To: ffml@fanfic.com





                           H. A cooking story.



                            N.A. Sinclair





 



  She was lying on the tatami mat in the living room when he came in.

 Hearing his entrance she shifted slightly and let the torn sweatshirt she

wore pull down slightly and expose the soft white curve of her shoulder.

 She ignored him at first of course. It was a sign of weakness of she had

said anything to acknowlege him before he said anything to her.



 "Hi Nabiki!"



 "Hello Ranma." She said coyly. "Been working out I see."

 He was breathing heavily and she couldn't help but appreciate the rise

and fall of his musculair chest. It was glistening slightly from his

exertions and she could faintly smell the faint musky scent of

him...faint, and not altogether unpleasant.



 "Yup." Ranma said. He sniffed. "Hey, what's that?"



 The scent was strong but not overpowering. It seemed to permeate the

room with it's savory aroma.



 "Cooking." Nabiki said, tilting her head on a slight angle, exposing the 

whiteness of her neck. She had already admitted to herself that it made

her own mouth water.



 "Smells good. Wait...." He looked suspicious. "Where is everybody?"

 

 

 "Out." She said. "Daddy and Mr. S heard there was a free sake tasting

downtown and vasnished in a puff of dust. Kasumi, well she and Tofu-sensei

are out as well. I'm sure neither of them even realize it's a date but you

never know."



 Ranam laughed. his muscles flexed when he did that Nabiki noticed -

again.

 "I just can't figure out how such a great couple like that can be

so...so.." He struggeld for a word.



 "Dense." Nabiki suggested with a small smile. 

 She raised a hand to stop him from protesting.

 "No, don't say anything. Don't even agree. I can say that. I'm her sister

and I love her despite her occasional flaws."

 Ranma nooded slowly.

 "So..." He said speaking thoughtfully. "Akane's.....?"



 "In the kitchen." Nabiki said. "She found a book of poetry in the library

and somehow that led her to cooking."



 Ranma looked dissapoiunted, and a bit afraid.



 "Well," He said shrugging. "It DOES smell good." 



 Nabiki had briefly entertained the idea of fleeing with him after she

informed him but his reaction wasn't exactly what she wanted.

 Oh well, maybe another time.



 "I'dd better take a shower before dinner he said and left the room.



 "Okay." She couldn't help but add. "Don't use to much hot water!"

 

The exertions of the work-out had caused his drawstring trousers to

misten with persperation...no, sweat on a guy she corrected herself,

and she watched the way they clung to his muscular legs and buttocks as

she watched him leave.

 Why do all of the idiots I like have such great butts? she wondered.



 She reached out for the phone and began to dial.



                              ***





 "it's....it's great!" Ranma said in surprised enthusiasm.



 It all had looked odd -no odder than most of Akane's cooking but he

had manfully risen to the occasion.



  "It is?" Akane said her eyes wide.

 She tried to do well, she really did and when things turned out...well,

poorly she had forced herself to taste each dish and make a few notes 

before gagging. Ranma had always been right about how horrible it was but

he dind't have to keep telling her. She hated that.



"Mmmmm" Ranma nodded, shoving half of an oat-cake into his mouth.



 He reached out for the glass of milk and drank it down greedily.

 Although Japan in in general wasn't a big milk consumer, Ranma was.

 He felt that his fathers' encouragement of this habbit was one of the few

things in his traqining that was healthy (that, and as a girl he could

induldge in his fancy for ice-cream treats.)



 He looks like a little kid like that. Akane thought smiling gently at his

milk moustache.



"What?" He asked self-conciously wiping his mouth with the back of his

hand.

 

"What do you mean what?" She asked.



 "You're lookin at me funny." He stated.



 Akane flushed. "I guess I'll never get used to you manners."



 "Huh."



 Nabiki watched the pair and found herself wanting to scream. This sort of

thing made her particularly annoyed. No one had ever asked her if she

wanted to cook for Ranma.

 She sniffed.



 The pair stopped garing at each other and looked at her.



  "Sorry." She said. "I was just thinking of something."





 *Pin Pon* The doorbell sounded. 



 "That will be for me." She said and got up quickly.



 Ranma watched her go.

 

"She looks different." He said thoughtfully. "Did she get her hair cut or

somethin'?"





 "Who knows." Akane said not liking his tone. "Eat! Eat!"



 Ranma gladly complied.



                              **





Nabiki returned with a large pizza box.



 "Why didn't you have some of this." Akane said. "There's plenty."



 Nabiki shook her head. "Sorry, ethnic food doesn't agree with me."





 Ranma finished another forkful and looked confused.



 He took another bite and chewed, and sighed with satisfaction.



 "What exactly is this stuff anyway?"



  "It's called haggis Ranma." Nabiki said and started up to her room with

the pizza.



 "Haggis hmm...?" Ranma said thoughtfully.



 "What's in it?"

  

 

 

                             ***FIN***







 Just a quick fic for Bobby Burns day. For those of you who like haggis...

well, so do I -Esp with a lot of freshly ground black pepper.. For those

of you with know idea what it is... look it up.

 this will end the fic for you. :)



 

Neil







     __________________________________________________________________

                             _____________

            Seraphim, the Restless Angel with a (borrowed) sword.

                               ________



         Nene, Ami,

       Girls with glasses. girls with computers. Pink hair. blue hair       

                       _______________________

                 Robyn, Duke of Amber. Agent of Chaos.  

 ***************************************************************************



















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