Okay, folks. Here’s another chapter. My last fic update didn’t go over too well, (6 reviews total,) and then I had to publish something that was guaranteed to earn me at least a few WTFs, which I knew starting out,, so… gah, what the hell? Stop whining, weebee. Anyhow, here’s the chapter. Hope you enjoy, don’t forget to review, and you can thank JRA for constantly bugging me about it. Now, james, please put down the bloody Mosburg. Thank you.

Chapter 12, I want a new job…

Kimiko stared at the computer in front of her, her eyelids glazing slightly as she scrolled through the station’s evidence lists, checking inventory data with a lethargic attitude that could be recognized and sympathized with by anyone who had been lost in a maze of spreadsheets for far too many hours.

At the moment, she almost wished to be back in the hospital room that she’d been confined to for the past week and a half. Then again, given that Ranko had been discharged only two days into her stay and could only show up during visiting hours after that, at least here she had mind numbing figures to stare at rather than an unfamiliar ceiling or bad daytime sitcoms.

Tapping a button on the keyboard with her un-restricted right arm, she cursed herself for refusing the three weeks leave the department had offered, but her eyes snapped up as she heard the sound of the chief’s office door swinging open, thumping against the wall next to it.

Seeing her redheaded partner stomping out of the room, the only remnants of her hospital stay being the bandages and splints on her hands that surrounded her remaining injured fingers and burns, Kimiko gulped at the scowl that dominated her face. “Ranko, what’s the matter?” She asked, though instantly regretted the question as the other woman’s murderous expression turned towards her. “Um, was it something I did?” She asked, worried about the glare.

Ranko blinked at her once, then shook her head. “Nah, Kimiko. Nothin you did.” She explained, walking over to the station’s front desk where the other woman was sitting. “Chief Aido just told me some stuff I’m not too happy about.”

“Oh?” Kimiko's eyebrows rose. “Did he put you onto desk duty, too?” She asked, momentarily entertaining a mental image of her technophobic friend desperately trying to find the ‘any’ key on the keyboard. She wanted to snicker, but decided against it due to Ranko’s previous murderous expression.

The redhead sighed, leaning against the desk. “Nah, it’s not quite as bad as what happened to you.” She said, throwing her friend a sympathetic glance. “He’s reassigned me, though. Apparently, the old ghoul told him some stuff about that attack I used ta down Ryoga… Somethin about bein emotionally unstable.” She snorted, trying to dismiss the thought. “Anyhow, the chief insists I go on light duty, and see a psychologist. Says he won’t put me on full patrols again ‘till I’m certified 'mentally healthy.'”

“A psychologist?” Kimiko asked, blinking. She’d honestly never thought Ranko would go to a place like that. “And what kind of light duty are you being assigned to, if not a desk job?”

Ranko looked at her levelly, and said two words. “Parking Enforcement.” After that, she grimaced. “Also, I’ve apparently got to give speeches at schools. What's next, back 'ta serving tea?”

Kimiko stopped dead in her almost automatic spread sheet scrolling, one eyebrow traveling half way up to her hairline, before she snorted softly and started snickering.

“Gee, thanks.” Ranko muttered, sullenly. “I see my partner’s bein all emotionally supportive.”

Kimiko shrugged. “Sorry, it’s just…” She trailed off. “Look, I know you wanted that job about as much as I wanted this desk one." It was true. Both of them had always rankled under the usual tasks that were given to female officers, Ranko because of reasons Kimiko now knew and herself because she'd spent a lot of time in other countries when young, and hadn't picked up a lot of the traditional Japanese attitude.

Thinking for a moment, she then smiled. "How about we go out for lunch before you get consigned to your punishment?”

As Ranko’s scowling expression lightened up slightly, Kimiko was glad. “You sure you’ve got the time?”

Kimiko just shrugged it off. “It’s my lunch break soon, anyways. Don’t worry about it.” Reaching forward, she typed in commands relatively quickly on the computer for someone using only one hand, saving her progress in her current document and closing it out. Pushing a button near her chair that signified that she was going off shift, she pulled herself out of it.

Unfortunately, she seemed to forget that she had a broken left arm, and as she put some weight on the casted appendage, she slid to the side. Ranko moved instantly, catching and stabilizing her. “Yeash, ‘n the chief says I’m the one who needs my head examined.” The redhead quipped, smirking very slightly.

Kimiko just grimaced at her, as she was helped to her feet. “Let’s just go get something to eat, all right?”

HR.

Ranko stood on the street in front of a wide, two floored building with a tower in its center. It looked like dozens upon dozens of similarly constructed school buildings all over Tokyo, though this one had a unique weathered appearance, as if it had withstood the firebombings of the Second World War without flinching. Given some of the stories she’d heard from the older staff, she wouldn’t be surprised if it had.

“Somewhere up there, someone’s laughing at me.” She muttered, irritated, playing her eyes over the large sign that was affixed to the wall next to the front gates. In proud, though badly scuffed Katakana, it read “Furinkan High School.” Fortunately, this time Kuno wasn’t out front of the place, and she thanked all that was holy that he wasn’t.

Walking across the front yard, she looked around and noticed that the place hadn’t changed much. Some of the trees had grown a bit, but other than that it appeared to be the Mecca of martial arts insanity it had always been. She idly wondered who was doing all of the fighting now.

Walking into the front hall, she looked around for the teacher who would guide her to the class where she was to speak, nervously tapping at the breast pocket where her notes were stored. She was reasonably sure there was supposed to be some form of training course for this sort of thing, but Chief Aido had nervously informed her that no one with the training had ever been insa----determined enough to stay around Nerima.

She’d just laughed, though she’d wanted to kill him at the time. “I don’t see any teachers…” She mumbled, scanning across the few students who were walking the halls during classes. As she said that, her now quite rusty danger sense sent her a warning. She tried to obey it, but was hit with an unpredictable tackle hug from behind before she could react. “Saotome-san!” Came a joyous female voice, as she was almost knocked off balance by the glomp.

‘Shampoo?’ Ranko thought, but shook that off. Though she hadn’t been glomped in quite a long time, this one felt far too unprofessional to be an Amazon class attack. Turning her head to look slightly over her shoulder, she blinked into the eyes of a fifteen year old brown haired girl. “Um, miss, do I know you?” She asked, trying to extricate herself from the hug.

“Oh, you’re pretending you don’t recognize me! You were always such a delinquent!” The girl complained, letting go and backing up to reveal that she was wearing a slightly loose yellow dress, which still showed her budding figure reasonably well.

‘Delinquent?’ Ranko thought, then blinked. “Miss Hinako?” She asked, gaping at the teenager.

“I knew you’d eventually recognize me!” The girl said, clapping her hands. “It’s so nice to see one of my old students again.” Then, she stopped to look Ranko over and raised her eyebrow. “You became a police officer?”

Ranko shrugged. “It’s a long story.” She said, not wanting to get into it right now. She’d already told most of her life story to Kimiko a week before, and didn’t really feel like doing it again.

“Oh, well that’s fine.” Hinako chirped, happily. “You’re the officer Chief Aido sent over to talk to my class, right? Oh, it’s so great to see you, Ranma-san.”

Ranko blinked. “I, um, thought you hated me when I was in school here. Oh, and I’d appreciate it if you called me Ranko, or Miss Sato, if ya don’t mind… a lot less awkward.” She said, having pretty well given up on trying to deny being Ranma by this point.

“Oh, you don’t know!” Hinako exclaimed. “Well, it seems all the energy I got while you and your friends were at school helped me out quite a bit, and the fighting fish, too. It actually helped me grow up a little.” She smiled slightly. “The doctors say that if I can get that kind of energy again, I could grow to my real form’s age in a few years.”

“That’s great.” Ranko said, smiling for one of the very few times since the incident with Ryoga. “Glad somethin good came outa all that stuff.”

Hinako nodded. “All right, ‘Miss Sato,’ shall we go and scare my group of delinquents into behaving?” She giggled, causing Ranko to sweat drop slightly.

“Yeah, I guess so.” The older seeming redhead said, vaguely feeling as if she’d joined the other side in some secret war.

HR.

Well, that didn’t go as bad as I thought it would.” Ranko mumbled, as she walked out of the classroom with a now adult Miss Hinako. “Still can’t believe I started off makin the wrong speech, though.”

“Don’t worry about that.” The older woman laughed. “I’ve done that a few times.”

Ranko gave her a wry look. “No offense, Hinako-Sensei, but you’ve ended up having classes discussing episodes of Pretty Cure 5.”

Hinako winced. “Yes… I forgot how strangely I acted when I was younger.” She said, looking away.

“Hey, I didn’t mean ta offend.” Ranko said, quickly, unaware that she’d just touched on a sensitive subject.

“Its fine, Ranko-san.” Hinako said, returning her gaze to the other as the two walked down the hallway. “We all feel a little odd about the things we did in our childhoods, mine just lasted a little longer than most. Anyway, as I was saying, you did quite well.” She grimaced. “Better than those two, Hiroshi and Daisuke, at the least.”

“Wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be, though I’ve gotta start ticketing cars later today.” Ranko grimaced.

Hinako nodded, kind of thankful that she didn’t drive, mostly because her younger self was still a year too young to get a proper license. “I’ll be sure to ask for you specially the next time I want an officer to come to the class.”

“Oh, um, ya don’t need ta do that.” Ranko said, her face turning worried.

“Nonsense!” Hinako laughed. “I don’t want to lose touch with one of my most interesting students now that I’ve found her again.”

“Um, thanks…” Ranko said, uncertainly, before the two came to the door. “I’ll talk to ya again.” Hinako merely nodded and waved as the young officer left, the door gently closing behind her.

HR.

Ryoga Hibiki groaned to himself, his whole body feeling as though it had been pounded with a very large hammer. For a second, his mind flashed back to over ten years ago and he was tempted to groan out some comment about it being all Ranma’s fault, then he remembered all the intervening time. Still, he had to wonder precisely what had run him over; especially since most trucks wouldn’t make him feel this bad if they hit him.

Surprisingly, the light didn’t hurt his eyes when he opened them, but that was about the only good thing he could say about his situation. He felt that something had been broken and felt agonizing bolts of pain racing around his shoulder and upper torso. Also, he could feel something heavy resting against each arm and leg, not allowing him to raise them. “What’s happening?” He croaked, his throat cracked and his voice rough from more than a week of disuse.

“Oh, Mr. Hibiki, you’re awake.” He heard someone say, and turned his head in the direction of the voice. He’d been expecting Akane, Kasumi, or maybe in the worst case scenario, a doctor or nurse. What he hadn’t been expecting was a wavy brown haired police officer sitting in the chair next to his bed, setting down a hard cover book. It was about then that he realized he was wearing a small, cold bracelet around his right wrist, underneath the larger weight.

“What’s going on here?” Ryoga demanded, trying to move his arm but finding it held down. He was pretty sure he could break loose, but was still rather annoyed about being tied down.

“Mr. Hibiki, what’s the last thing you recall?” The police officer asked, producing a small pad of paper and pen from apparently nowhere.

“Um, Akane and I were just getting home from a long trip, and then…” Ryoga started, reaching back into his memory. As the images swirled up in his mind, his teeth grit in anger. “Saotome!” He yelled, trying to bolt up. Almost instantly, he regretted that action, as one of his shoulders shot a jagged bolt of lightning down his arm and into his chest. “Gah!” He gasped, falling back to the bed.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” The man said, frowning darkly. “When we were in school, I always thought you and Ranma were all right guys, just liked beating the crap out of each other. Now though…” He shook his head, picking something off of his belt and talking into it.

“Aida here, Hibiki’s woken up. Better inform his family and doctor.” He said, quickly, and clipped the device back into place.

“Wha… what’s going on here?” Ryoga asked, now starting to become very worried.

“You injured two police officers, one severely, destroyed a large amount of police property, uttered death threats against an officer of the law...” He stopped for a moment, trying to think if he missed anything. “Oh, and you’ll probably get resisting arrest, too. You have the right to remain silent, and if you or your family have legal council, you have the right to contact them now.”

Ryoga blinked a couple of times, listening to the formidable list of charges that had been reeled off by the officer. “This isn’t happening.” He muttered, shaking his head. The officer didn’t respond, merely proceeding to the door to wait for the man’s family.

HR.

Akane, Nabiki, Kasumi and Umiko all stood around Ryoga’s bed, his police guard waiting outside of the room but keeping a careful eye on them from just out of conversational speaking range.

The group had already gone through the usual greetings, Akane and Umiko hugging Ryoga, while Nabiki gave him a death glare and Kasumi frowned at him disapprovingly, and he found himself looking around at a worried family. Even Akane’s face was clouded with uncertainty. “All right, do you want to tell me what’s going on here and why I’m handcuffed to the bed?” He demanded. “I mean, that cop read off a whole bunch of charges, but that’s impossible… I just attacked Ranma.”

Akane was about to open her mouth, when Nabiki interrupted. “You have no idea, do you?” She asked, scowling. At Ryoga’s blank stare, she shook her head. “Of course you don’t. Akane, you sure you should have married this guy?”

“Nabiki!” Kasumi gasped, glaring at her, while Akane did the same.

“Sorry, he is family.” Nabiki sighed, then rubbed her forehead. “Look, Ryoga. The martial artists around Nerima and the authorities kind of have a deal.” Seeing them all give her an odd look, she shrugged. “It’s sort of unofficial on the martial artist side,” She admitted, “but it’s there. Basically, it means that the police will stay out of the business of the ward’s martial artists, if the martial artists don’t make trouble for the police.”

“But I wasn’t making trouble for them, just trying to kill Ranma!” Ryoga exclaimed, and then winced as he saw Akane frown in dismay.

“You idiot, did you even stop for a minute to see where Ranma was?” Nabiki snapped, before Akane could say anything. “She was wearing a POLICE uniform, in a police parking garage, with another officer!” She shook her head. “Basically, you broke the rule, and attacked police and non-combatants directly.”

“But it was just…” Ryoga started.

“Officer Ranko Sato, Nerima police officer, on duty,” Nabiki said, coolly. “Along with her partner, who is recovering from a badly broken arm.”

“This… No!” Ryoga exclaimed. “It was Ranma’s fault! He…he came back, and he… he made Akane cry!”

The room went silent, as Akane walked forward and struck her husband along the side of the face. He blinked up at her, confused. “A… Akane?” He asked, uncertain.

“Nabiki… she was right.” Akane said, her lip quivering. “You… I thought… when we were… I could never figure out why you and Ranma fought… but I thought that when he came back, you…” She trailed off, looking down. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Mom?” Umiko asked, walking up next to her mother and grabbing her by the hand, worriedly.

“I’m all right, Umi-chan.” Akane said, tousling her daughter’s hair. “Ryoga, Ranma did nothing wrong, this time.” She continued, looking up at her husband. “You made a mistake.”

“No… I can’t… this can’t…” Ryoga stuttered, as his nice world started crumbling. “Damn you Saotome!” He roared, trying to pull himself free of the bed. His left arm came loose rather easily, actually. The restraints tore with an ease that frightened the officer at the door.

As the man was going for his radio to call for backup, Ryoga tried to pull his other arm free, howling in pain as his shoulder twinged again. “Gah…” He gasped, falling back to the bed. “Damn you… Ranma… for taking away my happiness.” He panted, before passing out from having torn several ligaments within seconds.

Akane simply looked at her husband in shock, her daughter’s eyes wide in horror. “Mom, who’s this Ranma?” Umiko asked, wondering who her father could speak of with such hatred.

Akane didn’t respond, her vision replaying for her the demon like expression of hatred she’d seen on the face of the man she thought she knew. Had this been the man she'd married all those years ago? It seemed completely impossible... but, after what she'd just seen, perhaps she should re-evaluate some things?

END.

There it was, readers. Hope you liked it. As for the agreement between the martial artists and the city, that was generally what Soun took care of on the council, and what Nabiki does now, mostly. There’s more to it than what she said, but I don’t really feel like expositing that much here, it’d make the chapter clunkier.

Oh, and don’t worry about James. He’s really a nice pre-reader, just seems to have some sort of sick and wrong love afair with this fic that frightens me on occasion. Sort of like Misato, only fixated to a laser point.

I’m going to sign off now, and…

Misato(Drags weebee off into the darkness.): He’s about to shamelessly beg for reviews again, so I’ll just shut him up.