For those who had a hard time reading through the Channel Blocking(tm), turn off the TV before your mom catches you watching Playboy! For those who liked my fic "Insertion Panic!", chapter 1, but didn't like the funky formatting, I have attempted to export the text into pure text form and insert it directly into this email. If you still have trouble reading it, than that's @#$^&**( d{}]][][\=-><//
Hee hee hee hee...
For those who are curious about the fanfics mentioned in Chapter 2, here's the web addresses to them:
Blonde 1/2: http://www.users.bigpond.net.au/acey/ranma.htm
I'll Be You're Fiance! [LEMON]: http://setsuna.anifics.com/cabbitblue/index.html
Enjoy!
Insertion Panic!
Chapter 1 - The Prime Directive for Dummies
There was, all at once, the sound of a mallet striking flesh, a strangled cry of “RANMA, PREPARE TO BWEEEE!!!”, a hastily scrawled sign thudding into a wall, and a loud POP!
The POP may need some explanation.
As for the rest, one can easily assume that Ranma said something to upset Akane, Ryoga once again got splashed (completely ignored by Akane, as once again she completely missed the “Ryoga=P-chan” clue train), one of Genma's signs got knocked out of his hand, and another misadventure was about to start. This is where the POP comes in.
For those who require a bit more explanation, a martial arts touring competition company was rolling into town, and Akane wanted to participate, boldly proclaiming that they needed to be shown how “real martial arts is done!” Ranma, of course, said that the tomboy better step aside to let a real martial artist (such as himself, natch) could join. Akane replied that the competition flier said the competition was for girls only. Ranma replied that then she REALLY shouldn't try out, 'cause “how could a tomboy like you know anything about being a girl?”, and besides, he could still join, as he made a better girl and was “Better built to boot!” This is when P-chan, incensed at Ranma's treatment of Akane, hopped off her lap and headed strait (with a detour through the kitchen, the dojo, a brief stopover in San Fransisco, Soun's bedroom, and the front gate, in that order) for the furo, and changed quickly back into Ryoga, made his way to the dining room (via Tailand, the kitchen, some place in Africa, Akane's room, a temple to the almighty Cthulu, and Nabiki's room) and made it as far as the back yard when a misstep dropped him in the pond as he was issuing his challenge to anyone who would listen, and specifically Ranma. Genma, who was “Mr. Panda” at the time, held up a sign saying, “For the sake of the schools, show your fiance more respect, boy!” Akane finally ran out of the short fuse she did have and wholloped Ranma with “Mallet-sama,” sending him on a collision course with his father into the wall.
And then, of course, there was the POP.
The POP was enough to cause the residents of the Tendo home to pause, as it wasn't one of the usual sounds that resulted from a Ranma/Akane “tough love” session. What made them focus on the apparent source of the POP was the splash of water that came shortly thereafter. As one, Akane, Ranma, “Mr. Panda,” Soun, and Kasumi all turned to look at the Koi pond.
Surfacing was a gaijin. His hair was blond, he was wearing what appeared to be very wet sweat cloths, no shoes or socks, and a pig. The pig was on his head, as that was where P-chan landed after the stranger splashed down. Sopping wet blond hair poked out from under the pig, crowning a Scandinavian face. Said face also was very confused.
Instantly, Ranma was out by the pond. Helping the stranger out of the water never even occurred to him. What did occur to him, as with just about every other thought in his head, came out his mouth without a filter. “Hey, are you another challenger?”
“Baka!” snapped Akane, who had followed Ranma outside, “Does it look like he's here to challenge us...”
Unnoticed by the squabbling pair, the eyebrows of the stranger squeezed together in consternation.
“Me.” interrupted Ranma.
Just as unnoticed, the wet man's eyes shot open in panic.
“What?!?” sputtered Akane.
Had the couple paid attention, the would have heard the gaijin muttering about “tainted realities,” “self-inserts,” and “prime directive,” but, again, they weren't. P-chan heard it all, but didn't really understand what the man was saying.
“Well, he wouldn't be here to challenge _you_, would he?”
“What's that supposed to mean?!?” The informed observer would know that whatever Ranma said next would likely buy him a trip to the canal courtesy of Akane's mallet.
In fact, the informed observer /did/ know that, and that's when the stranger spoke up, displaying his superior attention dividing skills to the arguing couple. This isn't saying much, as when Ranma and Akane decide to argue with each other, Nerima could be attacked by skydiving clowns and they wouldn't notice.
“It means that if I did present a challenge, which I assure both of you that I am in no condition to challenge even Nabiki to a martial arts match, he wouldn't want you to get hurt.” As he spoke the gaijin stood, removing the piglet from his head and stretching his arm out to hand it to Akane, who took the pig absentmindedly.
Akane, well, both of them, gawked at the newcomer, as he was still standing in the middle of the pond, which was roughly one meter (about 3 feet) deep, yet he came to nearly eye level with them. What Akane was even MORE aghast at was this total stranger was proposing that Ranma actually /cared/ about her.
Ranma spluttered for a moment, then said, “Oh, uh, yeah? Well, what do you know about it anyway?!?”
The stranger flipped up an eyebrow, then suddenly pointed over Ranma's shoulder and said, “Look out! Shampoo!”
“YEARGH! WHERE? WHERE?” As soon as Ranma turned to look, the gaijin man grabbed Ranma's shirt and yanked him into the pond. The girl spat out some water and shouted “Hey! What'd you do that for?”
“To show that I know quite a bit, actually.” With that, he stepped out of the pond. Akane's eyes bugged out even more as he rose to his full height, easily over two meters tall. “Allow me to introduce myself. As I would probably butcher the traditional Japanese bow, I'll simply use my native form of greeting. Hi, I'm Chris.” He reached his hand out to Akane.
Before he could blink, Ranma was between them. “You aint touchin' Akane!” she said dangerously.
Quirking a slight grin, he left his hand out. “Martial arts etiquette contest!” Instantly the red-headed girl snapped into a stance, mirroring Chris'. “Grab your opponents hand!” Ranma complied, expecting to have to throw the newcomer. “Pump up and down twice, then release!” She did so. “Repeat after me; 'Nice to meet you.'”
“Nice to meet you!” she barked back.
“Nice to meet you, too.” a full smile broke out on Chris' face, “Congratulations Ranma, you've just mastered the 'Western Handshake Greeting Revised, US Army style'.” Ranma blinked owlishly at her hand as the gaijin walked up to Kasumi. “Hello, my dear, could I trouble you for use of your bathing facilities, a plastic bag, and, hopefully, a change of cloths?”
“My, I don't know about the change of cloths. Let me show you to the furo.”
As the two walked into the house, Chris telling Kasumi that, sorry, he didn't know where his towel was, the remainder of the family looked at each other.
“Well, Saotome, that was interesting.”
[Indeed it was, Tendo, indeed it was.]
Ranma continued to stare at her hand.
“Shall we return to our game?”
[Sounds good.]
The two fathers left to continue their cheating... I mean competitive strategy.
Ranma was still staring at her hand, Akane watched her. After another moment, the red-head burst out, “What kind of stupid special move is THAT?”
That did it for Akane, as the shear lunacy of the situation finally hit her. She broke down laughing, gasping out between guffaws, “It worked on YOU, didn't it?”
---
“Here's my theory,” said Chris as he brought the teacup to his lips. He had changed into one of Soun's old training gi, but even that was too small to fit the strange foreigner. One of Ranma's tank tops stretched painfully over the stranger's thankfully thin torso, and the stranger occasionally complained of Ranma's boxers riding up. As it was, the gi pants only went down to his knees, and the gi top had to be left untied, as it didn't fit around the slight belly that the gaijin had developed. Chris took a sip of the herbal tea (specifically requested, “Religious reasons,” he explained.) and resumed his speech. “I come from a universe where all this,” he waved his hand expansively, “Is fiction.”
Nabiki, who had arrived while Chris was in the washroom, raised her eyebrows at that. “What do you mean, fiction?”
“Just that. All of this, Ranma, the Tendo's, Chinese Amazons, even you, is all part of a cute little story.” He paused a moment to allow that thought to settle in. “Now, this doesn't mean it's not real. I wouldn't be able to exist here if it wasn't. What it does mean is that I, and a whole planetful of other people, know a lot more about your lives that you'd probably be comfortable with.”
“This is your theory?” said Nabiki.
“No, I'm getting to that.” he took another sip, “There is a phenomenon about 'shared universes,' such as this one, that when it reaches a certain level of popularity amongst the general populous, individuals will begin to create original stories around the characters of that universe. These are called fanfics, short for 'FAN FICtion.'”
“This fits nicely with a theory in quantum physics that postulates that we live in, not a universe, but a multiverse.”
“Huh?” goggled Ranma, who had turned back into a guy.
Chris sighed heavily, “OK, imagine a tree. The tree is time. At the base of the tree is the beginning of time. As choices are made or events happen, the tree grows a new branch, which in turn splits off to create new branches.” Chris looked around the table and observed that the only people to comprehend what he was saying was Nabiki and, amusingly, Kasumi. “Alright, we'll try this another way.” He picked up his teacup, drained it, and tossed it over Ranma's right shoulder. Ranma easily caught it. “Now, what happened?”
“I caught the cup.” said Ranma as he set the cup on the table.
“Let me break that down for you a bit. You, Ranma, saw the cup moving through the air in a general trajectory over your right shoulder. In that instant, you made several decisions, one of which was to catch the cup. What would have happened if you had decided not to catch the cup?”
“It would have broke if I didn't. Duh!”
“The idea behind the multiverse is that you _didn't_ catch the cup, but you caught the cup.” He held up his hand to forestall any interruptions, “I'm not done. In that instant, you created a second time line. In one time line, the one we're in now, you caught the cup. In the second time line, you decided /not/ to catch the cup. It's not even as simple as that, really.” He took a deep breath, “You could have caught the cup with your left hand, you could have missed, you could have decided to throw it back, you could have decided to refill it, you might have handed it to Akane, it might have tipped off your fingers and broke anyway. Each of these “what ifs” creates another time line. This brings me back to the tree. The base of the tree is the instant you saw the cup flying through the air to you. All the decisions you could have made are the branches.” He looked around the table again, noting that several more people were understanding what he was saying, including Genma, to his amazement.
Ranma still seemed oblivious. Chris focused on the part time girl. “Think of it like this. The multiverse is like a house with a bunch of rooms. Got that so far?”
“Uh, yeah...”
“OK, now lets say that each room is going to be a bedroom. What goes in a bedroom?”
“Uhm, a bed?”
“Right, so we are going to put a bed in each room. All the rooms need a bed. What kind of bed?”
“Well, a futon is good.”
Chris gave a sort of half-smile, “You're not married and Japanese, so I'll give you that. What about the second bedroom?”
Feeling a little more confident, Ranma immediately answered, “A futon.”
“OK, let's say the futons are exactly the same, and they came from the same store. The same person isn't going to sleep on the two different futons. Let's say you sleep in one room on one futon, and your father sleeps in the other room on the other futon. Let's make this even easier and say you both sleep every night in your cursed forms. Can we agree that a huge panda is going to be heavier than a girl?” At Ranma's nod, he continued, “Let's say you sleep in the same futons for a year. At the end of the year, if you compared the two futons, which one would be more worn out?”
Ranma smirked, “That one's easy, Pop's! Heck, he'd wear it out without a curse!”
Genma attempted to whack Ranma over the head with a sign that said, [Show some respect, boy!] Ranma dodged it, grabbed the sign from the panda's paw, and whacked his father with it. “When you earn it, you'll get it, Pops!”
Chris cleared his throat, “Yes. As I was saying, both futons started out exactly the same, coming from the same place, but because they were in different rooms and had different stuff happen to them, they came out differently.”
He paused for a moment. Ranma mulled that over in his head, then, tentatively, said, “So, we're like the mattresses?”
“Exactly! Congratulations Ranma, you just grasped an aspect of quantum physics.”
Nabiki looked like she was going to freeze him on the spot with her gaze, “I'm still waiting,” as she spoke the room temperature dropped a few degrees, “For your theory.”
“Ah, yes. Getting back to the stories. There's an unattributed theory in my universe that all the fiction, all the /viable/ fiction anyway, is actually the author tapping into the events of another part of the multiverse with their minds. Some people even theorize that events in these realities can be influenced by the author as they write their stories.” Chris reached across the table and grabbed the teacup he had thrown, added some more water and a fresh teabag and let it sit. “For the sake of this discussion, lets call these universes that get tapped by professional writers that wind up as shared universes 'Prime' universes.”
Taking a breath, he scooped the teabag out of the tea and reached for the sugar he had requested and began shoveling a liberal amount into his tea. “This will probably give Ranma a big head, but the Prime universe for this particular section of the multiverse revolves around, er... Ranma.”
The results of this declaration were predictable. Ranma turned to Akane and said “HA! And you said I was stuck up!” Nabiki looked like she could curl up and die, Genma seemed torn between pride in his son and disappointment that the universe didn't revolve around him. Kasumi smiled and said, “Oh, how nice for you Ranma!” Akane, meanwhile, was whipping out Mallet-sama, “Watch it Ranma,” she growled, “Or that head of yours won't fit through the door!” She did her part to make it fit through, at least vertically, with repeated blows to the top of Ranma's head.
“Hmm, yes,” remarked Chris, “THE POINT is that the Ranmaverse is one of the most tapped areas of the multiverse for creative fiction. It's part of an even larger continuum called the Takihashiverse, named after the woman who wrote the original story about Ranma called Ranma one-half.”
“Referring,” Nabiki broke in, “To the fact that Ranma changes from boy to girl?”
“Exactly. The story became so popular that /loads/ of amateur writers began tapping into the Ranmaverse creating fanfics. You wouldn't /believe/ what kind of fan following the lot of you have.” Chris began sipping on his tea as he continued. “In fact, Ranma one-half has, perhaps, the second largest fan base in the entire world. Funny thing is, it's not acknowledged like the others are because of the nature of Ranma's curse. Heck, my own wife doesn't like that the whole thing is about a guy that turns into a girl.”
He smiled, “In fact, don't get your head /too/ big, Ranma, some of your popularity is due to the fact that you look HOT in a two piece!” Once again Akane burst out in laughter, while P-chan made some piggy noises that resembled laughter. Ranma turned absolutely white while Genma started looking about frantically about for any sign of a katana. Nabiki grinned, thinking, /So, there _is_ justice in the uni... multiverse!/
“Now,” said Chris, drawing the attention back to himself, “There is a sub-genre of fanfiction called the 'self-insert' fanfic. These are considered to be the absolute /worst/ fanfics ever written, but they are usually the very first fanfics a fledgling writer writes. As a result, there are literally thousands, if not hundreds of thousands or even millions of self-insert fanfics.”
Nabiki leaned forward. “Wait, then that means...”
“Yes, but let me finish.” Chris /knew/ Nabiki would figure it out quickly. “I'm subscribed to the Fan Fiction Mailing List, or FFML. One of the authors wrote a piece that had shades of self-insert, and I pointed it out. He objected, strenuously, so I decided, in a fit of pique, to write a SI fic just to show him how it's done.” He chuckled, “I think I got just a bit carried away.”
Their was a pregnant pause at this statement, “Wait,” said Akane, “You mean you WROTE yourself here?”
Chris took another sip of his tea. “From a girl who's engaged to someone who transforms with a splash of water, you sound skeptical.” He set his cup down. “Frankly, I was joking. I don't know precisely /what/ caused me to show up here, so I'm just as much in the dark as you all are.”
“So, when do you go back?” asked Nabiki.
/Trust her to think of that,/ thought Chris, /I would, after all, wind up staying here if I did stay./ “I gave that some thought. Here's my thought, there are two basic types of SI fanfic; the type that solve all the problems of a given continuum, and the kind that are just humorous one-shots. As I have no intention of even attempting to solve the problems inherent to this continuum, which I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, I'm hoping this is just a humorous one-shot that's badly written. I should be shuttled home soon.”
“How soon is 'soon'?” asked Akane.
“Probably after roughly two hours worth of writable material occurs, which around here should develop pretty quickly. For instance, this conversation and my arrival should have made roughly 45 minutes of material, but the time I spent in the bath wouldn't count toward that, even though I've been here for a little over an hour if you include that time.”
“What counts as 'writable material?'” asked Nabiki.
“Oh, romantic scenes, slapstick, action, any pivotal plot point, stuff like that. Oh, and the more stuff happens to me, the better.” With sudden realization, Chris slapped his hands over his mouth. /Shouldnasaidthat... Shouldnasaidthat... Shouldnasaidthat... Shouldnasaidthat... Shouldnasaidthat.../ the thought ran through his head repeatedly.
For the first time in history, Ranma and Nabiki looked at each other thinking the exact same thing. Ranma grinned his big, cocky grin and turned to look Chris square in the eye, “So, do any martial arts?”
Chris whimpered.
---
Chris was laid out on the floor, several bruises marking where Ranma decided to “test the toughness of his skin.” His one consolation was that Ranma, in girl form, was laid out next to him with a rather large lump on his head.
“If you'd stopped hitting me long enough to listen, I could have told you that mindless violence in a Ranma fic doesn't count as writable material!”
“Well, how was I supposed to know? Besides, you had the Tomboy on your side, it was two on one, a fair fight!”
Akane reared up like the devil... or rather how the devil only /WISHED/ he could rear up, mallet raised to the ready. “Gee Ranma, you don't seem to be doing so well, I think you need MALLET THERAPY!” Another lump joined the one already there, sending Ranma into slumberland.
Shortly thereafter, Nabiki wandered in. “I hate to tell you, but two hours is just about up.”
“What?” said Chris in disbelief.
“Yep. Looks like this is a 'solve everything' situation.” Frankly, she was a little disappointed. The “problems of this continuum,” as Chris put it, were her primary source of income.
“Can't be, I wouldn't do that in a million years!”
“Why is that?”
“Do you watch Star Trek?”
“The import? Never watched it, myself, but Akane used to.”
“There's a law in the Star Trek universe which says that you can't interfere in a group or culture that doesn't have the same level of technological development as your own group or culture. It's called the Prime Directive. I have my own Prime Directive, and that is NEVER MESS WITH A UNIVERSE YOU'VE BEEN DROPPED IN!!!” This last he shouted at the ceiling, in hopes that whatever power dropped him here would hear and understand.
“Why's that?” asked Nabiki calmly. After over a year of listening to Ryoga shout aimlessly, she could easily ignore Chris' ranting.
Chris eyed her critically. “Do you know what kind of /damage/ I could do if I started messing with this universe? Heck, I may have caused irreparable damage just by being here. Think about it,” he got a disgusted face, “How would you like to be paired up with Kuno?”
A look of shock passed over her face. “What? Why would I be paired up with Kuno just by you being here?”
“It's not my presence that would do it. If I started to interfere with things, all of a sudden strange things would happen like Akane and Ranma admitting they love each other, or you and (ick!) Kuno would get married! Every SI fic winds up doing something like that, even if it would be totally out of character for those people to do... whatever it is that the author of the SI fic wants them to do.”
“How do you mean? You can't just tell me what to do...”
“That's just it, in a 'problem-solver' SI fic, I _can_ tell you what to do, and you'd do it, because you wouldn't have any choice! Remember what I told you about authors having some influence over what happens in their tapped universe?” At her nod, he continued, “There are authors who abuse that ability terribly. It's a given that just about everybody who starts writing fiction is dissatisfied with life, but SI people are dissatisfied with /fiction/ as well! They have these ideas about how things should be, and so they set up these timelines where people act just like the authors think they should. Heck, if this were an SI fic, I could make Ranma spontaneously decide to marry Ryoga, and she'd do it without looking back.”
That comment penetrated Ranma's state of unconsciousness. The part-time boy jolted upright screaming, “W-W-WHAT?!?!”
Chris smirked, “You think /that's/ bad? I could pair *you* up with Kuno.”
Ranma turned green, “I think I'm gonna be sick...”
“Try this one... I could pair you up with Kuno /as a guy./”
Ranma slapped a hand over her mouth, “Fcuse me!” she said around her hand and bolted to the toilet.
“Heh, I haven't seem him /that/ green in a long time, last time Akane tried to cook, in fact.” Nabiki said as she turned to her visitor. He wasn't sharing in the mirth. In fact, he looked downright upset. “Anything you want to share?”
“That was a test. Ranma should still be knocked out cold.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I wanted to see if I had any control over this universe. Ranma was my test subject. Just focusing on making her wake up and be ill made her do just that. I could have said 'Kumquats are tasty,' and she would have /still/ tossed her cookies.”
Nabiki mulled this over, “So,” she said after a moment, “You're stuck here?”
“Yep,” sighed Chris, “At least until everyone's different problems are solved.” He collapsed back with an even heavier sigh. “Oh, fuddy-duddy!”
***
Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 doesn't belong to me. Frankly, I wouldn't /want/ to own it, what with all sorts of hentai perverts makin' Ranma do nasty stuff in girl form. That's like watching a porno and seeing one of your full grown children on screen!
Datclaimer: I never visited the Ranmaverse, this is purely an experimental conjecture to see what I can do with the concept.
De-other-claimer: No, I don't like SI fics, but I thought it'd be funny to write one, seeing as I hate 'em. It's irony, laugh!
Chapter 2 – Acclimation and Revelation, Which Carries the Lemon Scent?
It is a commonly held belief that the Saotome's hold sparring sessions just before breakfast. This is a fallacy. The Saotome's hold sparring sessions starting at five in the morning.
This morning was somewhat different, however. This morning, as Genma launched his son from their second story window and shouted a battle cry, something stirred.
Something evil.
Something that had taken the lives of many an innocent alarm clock as they were merely going about their appointed task to wake up the person who had set them.
As Genma and Ranma went about their early morning sparring session, Chris, eyes still closed, stumbled out to the backyard, and stood, oblivious, between the two martial artists. 'Between' being a two-dimensional concept in this case, as the two martial artists, when ever they reached the point where Chris stood, were roughly nine feet in the air.
It should be noted that the Japanese, by the standards of the western world, are rather short. Chris was above average height for even most westerners, and so when his arm shot up, he was easily able to snag Genma's ankle, causing the elder martial artists trajectory to abruptly shift. Genma's face was slammed into the ground, effectively cutting off the incessant battle cries.
Still with eyes closed, Chris stumbled his way back to the house, through the back door, and out of sight.
“HAW HAW HAW!!! Got yer clock cleaned, old man!” laughed Ranma, who went back into the house to find a bed, or snag some of Kasumi's pre-breakfast cooking, whichever came first.
---
Up to that morning Nabiki was the only person in the Tendo household that was not a morning person. Generally in a grumpy mood, she only /barely/ tolerated the morning antics of the two more active martial artists that were living with them.
This morning, she found some company in the bleary-eyed gaijin sitting, cross-legged, looking like he would fall over asleep at any moment, across the table from her.
Humming a merry tune, Kasumi set down bowls of miso soup for the family and their guests, as well as other foods common to traditional Japanese breakfasts. Chris blinked zombie-like down at his.
“Soup,” he observed.
Demonstrating that minds at rest prefer to stay that way, thank-you-very-much, Nabiki rejoindered, “Yes, soup.”
In the background to this incredible demonstration of wit and intelligence, Genma and Ranma had taken up their usual “training” over their breakfasts.
“Why,” replied Chris, “Do I have a bowl of soup in front of me?”
Nabiki paused momentarily in her eating, “It is there,” she said, “For you to eat.”
Chris looked back down at the bowl, and squinted one eye shut. After determining that, yes, it was still soup, he spoke again. “Where.”
Nabiki's mind was still in her warm blankets, in bed, upstairs. “'Where' what?”
Soun was oblivious to this exchange, as he was reading the morning paper.
“Where,” clarified Chris, “Is my cereal?”
Akane was getting impatient with her fiance and future father-in-law. She had a feeling that, if Genma weren't trying to steal it, Ranma would have forgotten all about his breakfast in his zeal fight with his father.
“Cereal?” asked Nabiki.
“Yes, cereal.” returned Chris. “You pour milk on it. For breakfast.”
Nabiki looked around the table. All the other bowls had soup in them, and there was no milk to be poured over any cereal. “I don't know, perhaps Saotome ate it?” ventured the mercenary girl.
Chris looked down the table, squinting his eyes as if to search at a great distance. “No, I don't think so.” he said. “They have soup, too.”
Kasumi finally finished up in the kitchen and sat down between her father and their guest. She began eating her soup.
Nabiki was beginning to wake up a bit at this point, but her thoughts were somewhat sluggish yet. “Well, then perhaps it does not exist?”
Tilting his head to one side, Chris (who was also gaining some coherence at this point) gave this some thought. “Yes,” he finally concluded, “I think that perhaps, this morning, my cereal does not yet exist. Perhaps it will exist tomorrow?”
Kasumi made a mental note to purchase some cereal, automatically figured out how to fit it in the budget for groceries, determined where in the kitchen it should be stored so as to keep it from the hungry paws of one part-time panda, realized that perhaps this was one dish that Akane might, MIGHT, be able to prepare without creating a toxic mess, and formulated a potential peace plan for the mid-east, then discarded it as it would require a hamster, a quantum computer capable of 17 parallel operations at a time, and a plunger roughly the size of the Tokyo Tower, as she didn't have ready access to any of these items. She continued to hum a merry tune between bites.
Chris began to eat his soup.
---
After Nabiki, Ranma, and Akane had left for school, Chris sneaked down the upstairs hallway. Thanks to Kasumi's excellent laundry skills, he was now back in the sweats he had appeared in. His blue clad form, while nowhere near being capable of performing the umisenken, could be quite sneaky when he needed it to be. He stopped in front of the door labeled “Nabiki.” He looked down the hallway to his left, then his right. Just in case, as he was in a house of martial artists, he looked up, then quickly whipped his head to the back. “All by my lonesome, Nabiki safely at school, Operation 'Comic Fix' is a go.” he muttered to himself. He gently touched the door and began to open it.
“Do you need something in Nabiki's room, Chris-san?”
“GYAAAH!!!” shouted Chris, who then collapsed to the floor.
“Oh, I'm sorry Chris-san, I didn't mean to startle you.”
Chris muttered into the floor, “Must... restart... heart!” He pushed himself back up to a standing position. “That's OK, Kasumi. Just... never mind. And it's 'McFarland-san', not 'Chris-san', McFarland is my family name. Besides, just call me Chris, or you can call me Homer, although the only people to use that were my lab buddies in high-school...” As he realized he was rambling, he also realized that Kasumi was still smiling that somewhat oblivious smile. He sighed, “OK, you caught me.”
“Caught you doing what?” she asked innocently.
“I was trying to get to Nabiki's computer. I wanted to look at my comics for the day, also get a head start on trying to get home. Nabiki'd charge me if I asked her, so I gotta sneak into her room.” he hung his head in shame.
“Oh,” smiled Kasumi, “Well, enjoy yourself.” she said.
He stared after her for a moment as she walked down the hall then down the stairs, and rushed into Nabiki's room before anyone else came along.
/Let's see, if I were Nabiki, and I wanted to hide a computer from someone who could perform the umisenken, where would I hide it?/ Thinking hard, he glanced around the room. Typical teenager stuff. That in itself was a tip-off to anyone who knew Nabiki even in passing. “Let's see, Ranma's technique emphasizes stealth and theft. Where would you hide a computer from someone who could go anywhere?” He looked carefully, first taking in the big picture, then the little details. Something tickled his brain. There was definitely a computer here, he had developed something of a sixth sense to know when there were any electronics in the same house, whether they were on or not.
“OK, let's stop looking for the computer... what else would you have in the same location as a computer?” Discounting the closet, which he hoped he wouldn't have to search, he focused on the desk. /There!/ Computer paper, still in it's ream, sitting on the shelf above the desk. /OK, Japan, generally cramped, the computer wouldn't be a desktop model, besides, you'd have a hard time disguising the monitor. What am I looking for?/ Casually, he opened one of the drawers, revealing the compact inkjet printer that the computer would connect to, but no computer. “It's here somewhere...” His eyes scanned the shelf again. He saw some school books on the shelf. /Hmmm? Nabiki's in high school, why would she need school books at home?/ His eyes narrowed, focusing on the books. “Where would you hide something from someone capable of using the umisenken?” he wondered aloud.
Tilting his head to the side, he scanned the bindings of the books, rather large books at that, considering the compactness of the Japanese writing systems. His eye caught on two “books” setting right next to each other, about 10 inches in height, with a metallic surface. “Right in plain sight!” he said with a smile.
---
Three hours later, (one hour of which was needed to crack Nabiki's password, “DollarsNYen”) having viewed his daily comics, he confirmed what time frame he had landed in. The local Nerima gossip rag, which had whole columns devoted to the goings on at “Old man Tendo's,” had a brief piece a month ago about the failed wedding of Ranma and Akane.
He had forestalled digging up possible methods of getting home in favor of ensuring that he could get into the computer again at a later date. Given his knowledge of computers, it was a relatively simple task, but his unfamiliarity with the Japanese OS on this particular laptop was giving him trouble.
An hour later, he had finally managed to create a “hidden” account that left no footprints on Nabiki's user account, when Kasumi called him down for lunch.
Lunch at the Tendo's was quite a subdued affair, compared to the morning and dinner antics. It was fascinating watching the two fathers when they were away from the children they were trying to marry off.
“So, Chris, are you planning on staying at the dojo?” Soun's question broke into Chris' thoughts, it took a moment for him to recover.
“Huh? Oh, yes, I am. I know you're already rather tight for space, but I probably shouldn't stray too far away from here,” he waved, indicating the house, “In case something develops that lets me get home.” Soun nodded sagely at that, still looking a bit pensive. Chris took a guess at what the older man was thinking. “If you're worried about expenses, I was planning on helping out around the house, then later on getting a job of some sort. I'll need /some/ way to pay off Nabiki in the inevitable instance that I'll need her assistance for something.” he said with a wry grin. Soun smiled as well, and seemed satisfied with the arrangement.
“By the way, Chris-kun...” began Kasumi.
“Please, just 'Chris.'”
“Yes, I was wondering if I could wash what's in the plastic bag for you yet?”
/Uh-oh, I knew this was going to come up sooner or later./ He paused for a moment, than said, “I'd rather take care of it myself. If you could show me where you wash your laundry when we're finished with lunch?” That seemed to settle the matter.
---
After Chris had washed the 'mystery item,' Kasumi had stated that she needed to do some shopping, and asked Chris if he needed anything. “Well, a new wardrobe and some shoes, and hey, a new car while you're at it!” he said jokingly. He seriously did not expect the Tendo's to provide him anything. Goodness knew that Ranma and Genma seemed to make do in just one or two sets of clothing. (not counting Ranma's “disguises”)
“Oh, my! That might get expensive. Nabiki will have to help me figure out how to afford all that!” her expression became that of careful pondering as she began working the problem over in her head.
“Heh, it was a /joke/, Kasumi!”
She didn't seem to hear him, wandering to the front door, murmuring about where to find shoes in Chris' large size. Chris, desperate not to put the Tendo family in the poor-house from his ill worded joke and Kasumi's intent to cater to her guests, was right behind her.
---
“Honestly Ranma, did you have to let that Chinese bimbo hang all over you?”
“Oh, c'mon, Akane! It's not like I can help it or anything. She just does it! I can't stand it any more than you... huh?”
Both Ranma and Akane stopped short of entering the main gate of the Tendo's in surprise. Kasumi was walking in front of what appeared to be a pile of boxes and bags. What gave them pause was the pile moving and talking.
“...We need to take this stuff back! I'm serious, you spent entirely too much on me! You don't even know me, fer cryin' out loud!” Those objections and others continued to be offered by the parcels as they followed Kasumi, apparently homing in on the gentle humming that the young woman seemed to do whenever she didn't have a particular task. Kasumi and her loyal parcel-creature padded their way through the gate, up to the porch, and through the front door. The engaged couple both silently admitted that it was an odd sight.
However, this was the Tendo's, and stranger things had been seen.
“Besides,” began Ranma, returning to his previous train of thought, “It aint like I encourage her or anything. I keep trying to get her offa me when she /does/ show up...”
The sound of their argument trailed off into the house.
---
Dinner that night proved to be something of a surprise for the assembled Tendo and Saotome families. Rather than Kasumi's usual fare, there was... something else... on the table.
Most of the faces around the table looked on with barely disguised dread. Their were four exceptions.
Kasumi was, for once, at the table when everyone was ready to start eating. She wasn't bustling in and out of the kitchen at a frantic pace.
Chris, resplindent in freshly bought button down shirt and slacks, had a contemplative expression on his face with his eyes closed, which he later explained as “saying grace.”
Akane looked expectent, but perhaps a bit hesitant. She had never seen this kind of food before, but it didn't look totally unpallatable, so she was waiting to try it.
Ranma was thoroughly confused. He /KNEW/ that Akane had been with him from the moment they left school to the moment dinner was called. When had she gotten a chance to sneak into the kitchen and cook? Maybe it was some special move she'd developed.
Chris opened his eyes and looked around, surprised to see no-one, not even the Saotomes, eating. “Well? What's everybody waiting for?”
Genma looked ready to sweat bullets, and Soun was wavering between joining his friend or crying his eyes out. “Well, um,” began Soun, clearing his throat, “It would be rude of a host to eat before a guest! Yes, that's it!”
“Daddy!” spouted Akane, “That's not true, it's the guest who is supposed to wait for the host to eat first!” So saying, she took some food and prepared her plate.
“Um, Akane?” began Chris.
“Yes?” she asked, stopping mid-scoop.
“The meat goes on the noodles, not the vegetables. Those are eaten with the cheese sauce.”
“Oh,” she replied, “I didn't realize that. Thanks!” She corrected her mistake and set her food down in front of her. Realizing that she, Chris, and Kasumi who were getting themselves food, she looked around the table. “Huh, why isn't anybody getting food?” Nobody replied.
Well, nobody with a brain that had a built in “Don't piss off Akane, ESPECIALLY about her cooking!” filter, thus, Ranma spoke for the group.
“Uh, Akane, when did you get a chance to cook today?”
“What? I didn't, why do you ask?”
Chris smacked his forhead in frustration, /I can't believe I didn't think of this!/ “She didn't cook, I did.”
A collective sigh of relief passed through the room. Suddenly, the unusual food didn't seem so... forbidding. Chris and Kasumi began eating.
Akane took a few bites and said, “It's not bad. It's not what I'm used to... thank you Chris.”
“Your welcome Akane.” replied Chris after he swollowed the bite he had in his mouth.
The rest of the family, seeing Kasumi, Chris, and Akane were still just fine, began dishing out their own food.
---
And so the day came to an end. Chris had to admit he was somewhat disapointed, he had sincerely hoped to meet Shampoo, or even Ukyo, but the earstwhile fiance's had decided not to pay a visit.
Oh, well, the evening wasn't /totally/ a bust.
In fact, Ranma was still in shock.
Chris decided to reveal some of the alternate timelines that could have occurred around the part-time girl. Certainly nothing that would lend itself to solving the problems of this particular universe, but other things that could provide excellent entertainment to his hosts.
“Spring...” began Ranma, pupils the size of pinpoints.
“Totally Hot Blonde. Truly one of the more humorous universes. Especially the parts about the /women/ you had to... avoid!” His grin lit up, and his voice took on a high falsetto while he mimicked a lust-obsessed pantie sales clerk, “'Please punish me first mistress!' HA! That was some good stuff!” That did it for Ranma, he fainted then and there.
Nabiki, while not particularly pleased with the way her alternate self had turned out, /Kami, she's TOO obsessed with money!/, she nonetheless found it as humorous as their guest did.
Akane, meanwhile, only stopped laughing like a hyena once, and then only briefly. Chris had graciously left out the bit about Ryoga turning into “Poo-chan,” as even she would be able to put two and two together to make /at least/ three and a half. “Hahahaha!!! The dress... hehehe... and Daddy and Genma... hahaha... and Kasumi's HAIR!” Akane disolved in another laughter fit.
Chris decided Akane had had enough fun at Ranma's expense, and leaned over. He gently whispered into her ear. Akane, thinking he was going to tell her something INCREADIBLY funny, quieted down. Then, the smile disappeared from her face. Slowly, her complexion became whiter and whiter, until she resembled Gosunkugi. Her pupils dialated until she almost seemed to have no eyes, and her hair began to stand on end. Chris finally finished talking and sat back. Akane looked at him, a desperate question tattooed on her face, desperately hoping that he would tell her he was just joking. He nodded his head and said, “Yep, just a few universes over if I guess right.”
Akane's eyes rolled up into her head, and she passed out.
“What,” said Nabiki in shock, “Did you tell her?”
Chris simply smiled like a cat who had figured out how to use a can opener in a warehouse full of cat food and said, “Good night, Nabiki.” With that, he got up and went to bed.
---
The next morning found the unusual sight of Nabiki walking with Ranma and Akane. Repeated queries from Nabiki to Akane about what their guest had said to her went unanswered, save for a steadily increasing blush and furtive glances at her fiance.
---
Chris decided to let Akane decide whether or not to reveal the... “lemon-scented” nature of the universe he told her about. It was for the best, really.