Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Phoenix ❯ Chapter 4 ( Chapter 4 )

See Chapter 1 for Disclaimer

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."

The change in Marx from cold, calculating fighter pilot to caring husband was dynamic. Ranma had heard the steel in his voice before; when they were discussing her father…her, hopefully, late father. Marx took the receiver from his wife. "Lt. Marx."

"Lieutenant, it's Staff Sergeant O'Brien. Angelica told me about an incident that happened today at lunch."

Marx relaxed a little further, recognizing the voice of his crew chief. "Did this incident that Angelica tell you about have anything to do with Ranma in the cafeteria at the high school?"

"How did…oh, of course, Ranma probably told you. From what my daughter told me, and I'm sure what Ranma said, Virgil was the one that started it. He's been after my daughter since we arrived here, and Angie's been spurning him everyday, so I'm sure that he mistook their friendship as something else. Especially when Ranma told Virgil to…get out of her face in a not so delicate manner." SSgt. O'Brien's comments had the Lieutenant smiling.

"Alright, Sarge. I'll explain to the old man what happened in the morning. Then it goes to the General after that. And if nothing happens from him, then we can both talk to Social Actions and the principal…" Marx trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

"Understood, sir. Hopefully the old man will have some insight. See you in the morning, LT."

Marx hung up the phone, and looked at his young wife. He should have had some inkling that this was going to happen. Ranma was a young, attractive woman; there was nothing that could diminish that. She was going to attract this sort of attention regardless where she goes to school. He chuckled sardonically. He remembered when he was that age, how some of the girls would play hard to get or were seeing some homicidal maniac; how he'd get tongue-tied and flustered with some of the girls in his class. He was always the shy one, except when it came to Ranma.

His mind was on autopilot as he sat down and ate in an almost mechanical manner, barely tasting the food. Ranma noticed it, and kept her conversation to a minimum. The dishes washed and put away, Ranma went off to do her homework; Marx headed back to the office to continue doing some of his paperwork. By virtue of a Top Secret clearance from his Army days, he was also the squadron's classified materials custodian when he wasn't flying. So he was going through all the documents his predecessor was supposed to have maintained, but didn't. His supposedly better filing system was to just throw in the new documents and changes in with the old and bitch about the system. This left Marx with the task of sitting down with the regulations and going through and reorganizing the files. It wasn't a bad tasking just boring. He was also lucky that the Air Force Regulations were unclassified, so he could sit and highlight exactly what needed to be corrected for the morning.

------

Just outside the base perimeter, opposite, in fact, of where their house was, a large panda sat watching the Marxs as they went about their business for the night. It had taken this particular panda many months to finally find where his elusive quarry was, arriving sometimes within hours after they left town. During this quest, there were times like this that the individual in question was glad he had fallen into the spring of drowned panda. It, at least, wasn't permanent like the one that his ungrateful whelp of a son fell into. Not that this particular master of Anything Goes would take any blame for turning his son into his daughter. No, this particular master was on a mission to find his so…daughter, kidnap…er, convince her to come, and marry her off to a Tendo, so that he could retire and live off his son's…daughter's hard work. Besides, the fur coat helped keep him warm, especially as the first flakes of an impending storm landed on his black nose.

So he sat, watching, and waiting for the perfect moment to get his daughter from that amerikajin she was living with. Now, if he could just find something to eat.

------

Lying in bed, reading a copy of Time, Marx watched his wife get ready for bed. Ranma never ceased to amaze her husband how graceful and beautiful the former boy was. Even the faint scars from the Neko-ken training that were still visible didn't detract from her looks. Sure, the nightgown she put on wasn't exactly romantic, but it didn't detract from her looks either. She noticed her husband looking over the top of the magazine. "What are you looking at, anata?"

Marx set his magazine down. "What, I can't look at my wife?" He asked with a smile.

Ranma returned his smile. "Of course, but with such a lecherous look, you old hentai?"

"Hentai? Frankly my dear, I'm not a pervert."

"Oh really," Marx's young wife countered, as she climbed into bed. "Then why did you marry a teenager?"

"Because I fell in love with her the moment I saw her," he said with complete sincerity.

"So, who is she? Who's this teenager that you're so in love with that you had to marry?"

"You already know her. I believe her name is Ranma."

She snuggled onto her husband's chest. "And here I thought it was someone else." There was a hint of mischief in her voice as she said it.

Marx leaned down and kissed the top of his wife's head. "Get some sleep. We've both got a long day ahead of us tomorrow." Ranma's only answer was a muffled snore. "Good night, my love," he whispered as he turned out the lights, which would have been noticed if a certain panda was awake and watching the house.

Morning broke over northern Japan with two feet of fresh snow and more to come during the day, and Ranma out on the patio practicing her katas. The snow gave the base commander the authority to declare a safety day for base, closing down all nonessential offices and the schools, including the high school and non-alert members of the 13th and 14th fighter squadrons. Marx was supposed to go on alert that evening, in addition to finishing the reorganizing the classified files. That was until the Operations officer, Major Wegner, called to tell him to just report to the building at 3 for alert duty only, but be available as spare crew in case of a scramble.

Steaming cup of coffee in hand, Marx stepped outside on to the patio. He watched Ranma make her martial arts seem effortless, but ten years on the road will to that. The steadily falling snow made his wife look like an angel as she did her exercises, her movements fluid and conservative with energy as she fought an unseen opponent, unconcerned about the weather. He didn't want to interrupt, but he did clear his throat. Ranma faltered, but recovered quickly. "How long were you standing there?"

"Long enough to watch you. You're quite amazing." Ranma blushed. "I wanted to also let you know that school's been cancelled, and I don't have to go in until four."

"So what would you like to do, then?"

Marx sheepishly looked at his wife, as he set his coffee cup down on the snow-covered table. "Would you mind teaching me Anything Goes?"

"You're really interested in learning? You do understand that I'm not going to go easy on you." Marx nodded. "How much martial arts have you had?"

"Some aikido, some tae kwon doe; not much."

"Ok. Then why don't we begin today?"
------

Marx sat in the tub, soaking out the fatigue and muscle burn with the hot water. The exercises that his wife put him through would have been one thing when he was 18, but fourteen years of lifting loaded or, in some cases, overloaded stretchers into ambulances, moving equipment with "US Army" or "US Air Force" stenciled on the sides, moving household belongings, survival school, and excessive G-forces had taken their toll on his flexibility, not that he was all that flexible to begin with. His head was resting against the edge of the tub and the wall; eyes closed but not yet asleep. But he heard the door to the bathroom open, and the light footfalls of his wife on the tile floor.

Ranma knelt down next to the tub, intent on surprising her husband. She knew that she overworked him this morning, and wanted to make it up to him in a special way. She knelt down next to the tub and kissed her husband on his forehead. He barely stirred. With a wicked grin on her face, she climbed into the tub, and straddled his hips.

Marx shot open his eyes. "What the…" he trailed off when he saw his wife smiling cutely at him. "Playing kiss and making up for putting me through the wringer, aisuru?"

"Or something like that, anata." An afternoon of lovemaking followed, but there was something nagging at the back of Ranma's mind, but it was ignored by her libido.