Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Phoenix ❯ Chapter 3 ( Chapter 3 )

See Chapter 1 for Disclaimer

As she napped, Ranma dreamt. It was a nightmare she'd had before. Her father, looming larger than life, was saying how this new technique would make her an unbeatable martial artist if she would just learn it. "You are a useless girl, Ranma. Weak and useless," he scolded.

"No, Poppa, I want to learn. But I don't wanna go back in the pit." The pathetic mewling of half-starved cats could be heard from the covered pit.

"You're whining like a girl, Ranma; a pathetic, frilly, weak little girl. The only way you're going to earn your keep is by learning this technique. Back into the pit with you."

"No Poppa. I'm not a girl; I wanna be the best martial artist in the world. But I don wanna go back in there!" Super-Genma picked his daughter up by the arm and threw her back into the pit. "Poppa, no!" She screamed in terror as she flew towards the now open pit, as it grew razor sharp teeth and evil green eyes.

Her scream woke Marx up, as well as her hot tears on her chest. Ranma wept openly, clutching her fiancé in a death grip. "No Poppa. I'm not a girl; I wanna be the best martial artist in the world. But I don wanna go back in there! Poppa, no!" She mumbled in her sleep. "I'm not worthless."

"Shh," he whispered. "You're right, you're not worthless; you mean something to someone very close to you." Marx lay there, stroking his fiancée's hair, calming her down. She snuffled lightly, and moved on to more pleasant dreams. Twilight filled the dorm room with shadows. "If this was something your father did to you, I will make him pay. I don't care if he is a martial artist; he will pay."

"Ranma, what happened during your training? You've been having nightmares, and it's a reoccurring one at that," Marx asked at dinner one night.

She sighed and set her chopsticks down. "Oyaji used a lot of 'unusual' training techniques. Having wolves set upon me to make me run faster; tying me to the back of a freight train to teach endurance; leaving me out in the woods while he gorges himself on food and sake to teach survival. All his harebrained ideas seemed to work, except one. And that was the worst of them all-the Neko-ken."

"What kind of technique is that?" Marx asked, gently prodding his fiancée to clear the air between them.

"Its one where the master takes his student, usually around 6 or 7, ties him up with fish sausages, and throws him into a pit of half-starved cats. In theory, the student is supposed to teach the student to become like a cat. But in practice it gives the student, namely me, a severe fear of cats. I can't even be in the same room as one of those little devils without going crazy. Because of that, the technique's been banned for years."

"He is so dead," Marx growled.

"Good luck. That damned panda created two very special techniques for the school, but refused to teach them to me."

Marx smirked. "I'll find away. I can be very resourceful."

"I'm sure you are," Ranma said as she smiled in that annoyingly cute manner of hers. "So what do you have planned for after dinner tonight?"

Marx reached across the table and stroked her face. "That all depends on you."

* * *

Morning found Marx out on Misawa's flightline, looking the worse for wear. "Damn, Scooter, you look like shit. What happened to you last night?"

Marx gave his friend and wingman a weary look. "Doc, you've always known I'm not one to kiss and tell."

1LT Brian "Doctor" Cobb punched his wing leader in the shoulder. "You don't have to, Scooter. I could hear you two last night. So who is she?"

"She's a girl I met a couple of days ago."

"Damn you're moving quick. So, tell me more."

"Not gonna do it, Doctor. But I do have a favor to ask."

"What is it?"

Marx sighed. "I'd like you to stand as a witness."

"You're not being sued are you?" Marx shook his head. "Then…oh dear God, don't tell me you're marrying this chick already?" The older lieutenant nodded. "Why? It's only Wednesday, you probably just met her last Friday."

Marx leaned against the fuselage of his fighter. "Two very good reasons: One is sort of complicated; her father is an abusive drunk who'd do I don't know what to her or prostitute her for booze money. The second, and most important, is that her mother disowned her and kicked her out of the Clan. You should know how the Japanese are about family and family honor. No family, no nothing."

"Oh man, Scooter, I didn't know. Yeah, sure, I'll stand as a witness for you. But you still need one more."

"I was thinking about asking Barney."

"Captain Miller?" The pilot in question was the daughter of an NYPD detective and was, in her own way, a reminder to everyone in the squadron of the fictional Barney Miller. "You think she'll go for it?"

Marx chuckled. "You've been on alerts with her, so you know how she likes those sappy romance novels. So here's a real life romance novel for her."

"I doubt it, but with Barney, you never know. Go ask her."

"Gentleman," Major Thompson called, "are we flying or having a coffee break?"

"Flying sir!" They both said as they climbed into their fighters.

-----

Marx stood in the men's room of the base chapel, adjusting his tie for the umpteenth time. There was nothing wrong with it or his Class-A uniform. "Scooter," Cobb said, "relax. It's not like you haven't been through this before."

Marx looked at his long time friend. "I know. It's just that it's been awhile, and I have butter-aw, hell. I have F-106s in my stomach. I'm nervous."

"Scoot…Chris, believe me. You'll be fine."

"Thanks Brian." Marx clapped his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Let's go get hitched."

They walked into the chapel, Ranma and Captain Miller followed a few minutes later. The ceremony was a brief, simple affair-more of a justice of the peace type as opposed to a full ceremony. Regardless of the type, with the recitation of vows, Ranma shed the lack of a family name even though they had used "Masaki" as her maiden name.

The reception was a small affair as well at the Officer's Club; basically a few squadron mates, Marx's crew chief, and a few of the cops partially because of the speed involved, and partially to keep costs down. Colonel Bell, the squadron commander, granted his oldest lieutenant a 96-hour pass for the honeymoon.

It was fortunate that Marx had an associate in the prefecture office that owed him a favor. Marx called that marker in, and by the time the newlyweds were on their way back from the honeymoon, a new set of identity papers bearing the name "Ranma Masaki" were on their way to the Lieutenant's mailbox, which allowed them to get Ranma her dependent ID card.

Friday morning found the Marxs in the principal's office of the base high school; Ranma was looking particularly nervous. It was the first time since that all boys' school, where she met Ryouga, that her education was formalized. The principal looked over her new student's home schooling records. "Mrs. Marx, these circumstances are unusual in that you have no formalized school records from anywhere, and you are, I believe the first married woman to be admitted to this high school. However, based on your scores, I would place you in the junior class; but at this late date, I feel that the sophomore class would be more appropriate." Marx translated as best as he could for his wife, so that Ranma could understand what was being said. "Now, I understand that you've studied martial arts for the past ten years. That will pretty much exempt you from taking a physical fitness class. But, I want you to understand that there is no fighting on school grounds."

"Hai, sensei," she said. "What if it is in response to a formal challenge, though?"

The principal looked at the redhead. "If it's a challenge, then bring it to the attention of faculty. I'm sure something can be arranged at that point."

Ranma was standing at her locker, looking over her class schedule the following Monday. "I feel so overwhelmed," she muttered.

The girl next to her overheard er comment. "I take it you've never been to a Western-style school before?" She asked in fluent Japanese. A slightly wide-eyed Ranma shook her head. "Gomen, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Angelica O'Brien."

"R-Ranma Marx."

"Pleased to meet you, Ranma. First day of school as a sophomore?" Ranma nodded. "Do you know where you're going?"

"No. I was shown around Friday by the principal, but…it's just so overwhelming.

"Can I take a look at your schedule, I can probably help you out."

"Thanks." Ranma handed her schedule to her classmate. As Angelica looked over Ranma's schedule, Ranma asked her where she learned to speak fluently.

"My grandfather taught me. He was a Japanese interpreter for President Roosevelt's Secretary of State, Cordell Hull." She handed the schedule back to Ranma. "You're in the same classes as I am, so we can walk together, if that's all right with you."

"Hai. Thank you." With the ring of the first bell, Ranma's first day in an American school started.

At lunch, Ranma placed her head on her books, and sighed. "Is this what it's like in the States? I swear, my brain hurts."

Angelica looked at her new friend sympathetically. "It is, Ranma. This is a usual pace, although I'm what they call an 'Air Force' brat. I've been to several Tactical Air Command bases since I was born, I've been to Europe, so I technically haven't been to a civilian high school, the pace and setup are still pretty much the same."

"Kuso," the redhead muttered.

"So, it looks like we have ourselves a new student," a gruff voice said from behind the two girls said. "And she looks kinda cute."

Angelica spun around in her chair. Standing over the two girls was the captain of the school soccer team, and a few of his mates. "Virgil," she said, "Ranma's not interested."

"You know not to call me 'Virgil', Angie, only 'Gus'. And why don't I hear if from her mouth, anyway? Or are you two already an 'item'?"

The look Angelica was giving the senior could have frozen water at 30 paces. "One: We are not an 'item', Virgil. And two; Ranma is struggling with her English, she's Japanese."

Ranma looked at her new friend trying to protect her, and also sized up the competition. "I'll handle this, Angelica," she said in Japanese. She thought about what she was going to say as she stood, and switched to English. "Fuck you, asshole," she said while smiling cutely, in an "I know how to kick your ass" manner.

"Why, you little Jap bitch," Virgil growled. He grabbed Ranma by her shoulders and picked her up. "When I'm through with you…"

"Big mistake," she said, in Japanese. Quicker than a pissed off rattlesnake, Ranma jabbed the bigger teenager in the ribs, causing him to drop the redheaded martial artist. Ranma then drove her knee into the soccer player's crotch, causing him to drop to the floor. With their soccer captain taken out by this little girl, the teammates behind him pick him up and carried him over to the nurse's office.

"This isn't over yet, you little slant-eyed dyke. I'll get you for this. You and your little friend too!" Virgil squeaked.

"Wasn't that a little over the edge?" Angelica asked, in a bit of awe with her new classmate.

"Nah. The jerk had it coming to him." Ranma said, as she poked at what the cafeteria staff called "lunch". "Man this stuff should be used for a science project. I swear it's alive."

Oh, boy. I hope she realizes she just beat up the base commander's son. I feel sorry for whomever her sponsor is when General Leonard finds out. Angelica said to herself.

Ranma was approaching the exit doors with the rest of the throng of kids to leave the school, when her husband pulled up in his antique jeep. Since only English was spoken in the school, the former pigtailed martial artist was forced to rely on her weak skills in that language, but they were steadily improving. Without the steady badgering of her father, Ranma was able to turn her impressive ability to learn martial arts towards her education, especially since she was able to sleep at night, without fear of her father trying something stupid or dragging her off to continue training. Her husband climbed out, and waited for her. Ranma waved to him, and Marx waved back. "Ranma, who is that? Is that your father?" Asked one of her new friends.

She tried to stifle a chuckle, but it came out choked. "No, Angelica." She gave her friend a smile. "You know those rings I wear-the one with the diamond, and the plain white gold band?" Her friend nodded. Ranma pointed at the guy leaning against the fender of the Jeep. "Well…they're my engagement and wedding rings. Lt. Marx isn't my father; he's my husband."

Angelica barely kept her books from dropping. "You're kidding me, right? Does the school know? My father's his crew chief, I had no idea, "

Ranma sighed, and had a wistful look on her face. "No, I'm not kidding you. And yes, the school knows." She got serious again. "He proposed to me the day after he met me. I had some…family problems, so I ran away. I was out in the cold during that first snowfall; ready to give up, when he rescued me. And because of my family problems, he offered to help me escape them by becoming his wife. I guess I was still sick, because I accepted."

"Ranma, just what kind of family problems were you having?" Angelica asked.

"My father was…is a superb martial artist, but a total moron when it comes to parenting. For ten years of my life, he abused me in the name of 'training'. Most of it was mental, but some was also physical."

"Couldn't the authorities do anything about it?"

"They tried, Angie, but he always managed to steal me back."

"So are you sure that he won't be able to do anything with you on the base?"

Ranma chuckled. "My darling husband has accounted for that already. He's already advised the cops about him, passed around a picture of my dear father to them. I have better hopes with the Security Forces here on Misawa than I ever did with the local authorities."

"I hope he won't, Ranma. You sure took the steam out of Virgil and his cronies today at lunch. Sorry, you had to get in trouble though."

"I've, a…met their type before. Just the proper application of a gentle knee to the crotch will dissuade them from harassing you. And if that doesn't tell them that you're not interested, I can always teach you some basic kempo. That'll definitely get their attention then. Why did he think we were an item?"

"I've spurned Virgil's advances since my mother was transferred here when I was in eighth grade. So he thinks I'm a lesbian because I don't fall for his 'manly man' routine. His father was a missile wing commander in SAC before being assigned her as the base commander. He probably gets his attitude from his father."

"Sounds like something my mother would have thought," Ranma muttered, to low for her new friend to hear.

"So, you'd really teach me martial arts?" Ranma nodded. "That's great." Angelica hugged her classmate. "I'll see you tomorrow." Ranma returned the hug and let her friend run to catch the bus.

Marx smiled at his wife. "Good day at school today?"

She kissed him, before answering. "Hi darling. Sort of. I kinda got into another fight today. But it wasn't my fault."

He climbed in after his young wife. "How so?" He asked, as he started the jeep up and pulled out of the school lot.

"A couple of the seniors started making passes at a few of my classmates and me. I told them to leave us alone; one of them made the mistake of grabbing me."

"So I heard. The school called me to tell me about it, and Colonel Bell got on me about it, because he got a call from the base commander." Marx said. "I explained to him that it was probably an issue of self-defense. Please, just don't let it happen again, especially if it's the son of the base commander that's involved. Ok?" Ranma nodded as they pulled up in front of their house.

"I'll go get dinner ready," she said, climbing out of the jeep. Marx nodded, and followed her in after grabbing the mail, then headed to his office to check his email.

Standing in the kitchen with the refrigerator door open, trying to decide what to make. She'd already started a pot of water boiling for soup, and the wok was warming. She got a smile on her face, and started pulling out vegetables, rice, a couple of eggs, and chicken. Remembering some of the dishes she learned in China, she began preparing dinner.

Sitting at his computer, Marx sniffed the air. His nose was assaulted by tantalizing aromas coming from the kitchen. Giving up on his work for the moment, he stood and walked out of the home office. The formal dining room was set in traditional Japanese style, while the kitchen had a homier, Western set up. Marx walked into the kitchen, and saw his wife still cooking. He slipped up behind her…and got a spatula across the face. "Damn, that smarts," he muttered.

Ranma saw what she did to her husband and cringed. "Gomen, but you shouldn't have snuck up on me like that."

"I know, I know. So when's dinner going to be ready?"

"In a few minutes. Oh, Chris, about that senior that tried to make a pass at me that I told you about earlier on the way home?" Marx nodded, as he set the kitchen table. "Well, he called me a-how did he say it…ah, yes-'a little Jap bitch,' and a 'slant-eyed dyke.' And he also insinuated that one of my classmates was a lesbian, and my lover."

The glass in her husband's hand fell from his suddenly numb hand. Ranma saw this, and dove to catch it. With millimeters to spare, the glass was successfully saved from shattering. She looked up at her husband, and became worried at the look on his face. "I don't care if he is the commanding general's son, I'm going to rip his balls off and shove them down his throat," he growled. "I'll scalp that little prick and use it to polish the cannon barrels on my fighter." Marx was seeing red-blood red, more specifically, Virgil Leonard's blood.

The phone rang, pulling them back from the abyss. Ranma answered it, automatically using Japanese. "Moshi, moshi; Marx-ke."

There was a pregnant pause on the other side, followed some background noise, then a familiar voice answering. "Hi Ranma. Sorry to bother you or your husband, but my father needs to speak with your husband."

"Oh, okay Angelica…" Ranma looked at her husband. "Chris? Christopher-kun?"

That pulled him back to reality. "What is it?"

"The father of one of my classmates needs to speak with you."