The Seven Fiancees

A woman of Japanese nationality walked down the hall towards the two men. Her hair was cut short to a type of moter cycle helmet cut, with the front covering her face exept for a thin slip that widened the further down it went. The tips of the front of her hair had red highlights, scarlet red, angry red. Her sultry walk had shown none of that anger in her approach, accentuated by the tight black leather pants she wore, the leotard shirt, the small leather jacket that was forcefully rolled up at the sleeves and only came down to her mid-drift if it were closed, and the leather gloves with steel nuckles.

"Uh, how'd you get in here?" The first man asked, unconciously reaching for his gun.

The woman tilted her head sideways, as if it were a stupid question to ask, "I walked in."

"You couldn't just walk in here!" The second man stated, "this is a restricted building! There are guards posted at the door! Christ, if they're not doing their damn jobs up there..."

"Oh, they tried to do their jobs, and put up a valiant attempt, while they were at it." The woman put her hands on her hips, and her lips that could be barely seen smiled.

"Huh?" Both men asked at the exact same time.

"In fact.." the unwanted visitor checked her watch, "We should be hearing about it right... about..."

Suddenly, the alarms in the building blaired to life, and before either of the guards could react, the woman with the scarlet tipped hair went into action. Her right hand shot out, trapping the guard on her left's right arm to where he was trying to draw his gun from his vest holster. The woman then spun back to her left, ramming her left shoulder into the guard that was on her right. His head bounced against the ground, and he down the hall from the force of the short charge, as the woman, still holding onto other guard's arm, pulled him around to her left. she then brought her left hand into play, grabbing the man by his right inner thigh. She used her brute strength and the momentum from the spin to hoist the guard into the air, and then slam him back down so hard, the ground shook when his back connected. The woman clicked her tongue, and walked down the hall with a casual stride.

In a gymnasium of some sort, a woman with her hair cut short, exept for a ponytail down the back, wearing a conservative men's style business suit that had been cut for a women twirled a thin six foot black whipping cane in front of her with her right hand. The three guards that she was confronting.

Just as the first one drew his gun and pointed it at her, her staff shot out, straight into the barrel. The gunman tried to pull the trigger, but found the chamber jammed from the staff. With a jerk upwards, he was relieved of his gun. As the gun soared into the air, the woman quickly twirled her staff around, and made a backhand downwards strike , causing the middle gunman's gun to drop down, and shoot his partner in the foot. The woman then brought her staff over the middle guard, and brought the reverse end down onto the cheek of the first gunman who was still standing dumbfounded from being relieved of his gun. She then reversed the staff again, raising it in a fierce shovel, catching him in the chin, and launching in up and onto his back to land on his head.

The third guard fell to the ground in agony, while the second one brought his eyes back to their advisary, who was standing there calmly, holding the staff in front of her for support. With a growl, he started forward, only to have the first man's gun land on his head. The woman watched the second guard's eyes roll into the back of his head, and fall backwards. Without giving it a second thought, she continued forward, stepping on the second gunman, while ignoring the cries of pain from the third.

A woman in a lavender trenchcoat slammed her right palm into the chin of the first guard, and the thrust her right elbow into the neck of the second one. She then brought her left hand up, and open handedly back slapped the first man, then brought her right hand under her left hand in a yin-yang pattern and back fisted the second guy with her right hand. She then brought he right fist across, and socked the first guy, and spun into a left back fist into the second guy, as he recovered and turned back to her.

The woman in lavender turned to sock the first guy again, but instead parried his clumsy punch with her right hand, and then ducked. A fist soared over her head from behind, clocking the first guard and rendering him stunned. The woman reached her left hand down to her right hip, and pulled out a custom lavender-chrome plated Jericho handgun. She slammed the second guard's head against the wall he was constantly being rebounded off, placing the side of the gun against his ear. As she raised her right leg up for a sideways split kick to knock the first guy out, she pulled the trigger twice.

The woman giggled, dropping her leg back down in a sultry manner; first bending it at the knee slowly, and then at the hip. She then slinked off in a sultry manner, as the second guard screamed from a split eardrum.

The man sitting in his office was climbing the walls at the alarm, wondering why in the hell anyone would choose to break in to the office building of his small, almost uknown specialized organization that was highly selective of its clientelle.

He recieved the answer he truly didn't want, as his locked office door flew inwards, revealing three women right out of his favorite wet dreams, standing at the door.

"Knock knock!" Scarlet mocked sweetly, with her hand still raised from 'knocking'. She walked in uninhibited, followed by Chef and Lavender.

The Three Fiancees
Episode 1
'The Hunt is On'

"Hello," Scarlet greeted with a sensuous tone, "We would like to file a report for a missing person..."

The man behind the desk frowned, which impressed himself, as much as he was about to wet himself, "The Dallas/Fort Worth Police Department may not be the most proficient, but they are more suitable for what you're..."

"No, we're quite sure you're the man we want," Scarlet grinned behind her hair, leaning over the desk and bringing her face closer to the thin, balding man with glasses.

Mr. Thomas was very secerative about his job. Not many people knew of his talents, and prefered to keep it that way, as the ones who did payed handsomely for them, anyhow. For his duties, he employed methods that were rather... unorthodox and highly illegal which could bring him into trouble with more than one side of the line. With a straight face that had been practiced a great deal, he lied to the three women in front of him, "I'm afraid I cannot help you with that. I only offer consultation for network..."

Scarlet reached over, and gently began to adjust the man's tie, "Mr.Thomas, if you were to be... oh... so cooperative with us..." the woman in leather leaned closer to the balding man's ear, "I'm sure we can... make it pleasurable for you..."

Mr. Thomas gulped, as he felt his temperature rise. "Y-you could?" He said in a slightly high pitched stutter. Scarlet smiled lavishly, and leaned off the desk. Lavender and Chef then approached, with a brilliant smile and an emotionless mask on their respective faces. The woman in the trenchcoat pulled out a package of hot dogs, and removed one. She then laid it on the desk off to the side before Mr. Thomas, and began to stroke it suggestively with the flat of her hand. Her smile grew bigger, as she got the reaction she wanted from the man before her, and brought her hand away. Mr. Thomas jumped and screamed in a high pitch shrill, as Chef brought her staff in a one handed grip down HARD on the hotdog, never taking her eyes off of the man in front of her.

"I'm pretty sure you'll find it extremely pleasurable if that didn't happen to yours," Scarlet stated with a sexy lilt in her voice.

"I... I don't know what you're talking..." Before Mr. Thomas could finish, Lavender slapped another hot dog on the desk to have it slammed in half by Chef.

Scarlet seemed to indulge in the girlish scream the man in front of her gave out, "Yes, the one we're looking for is named Ranma Saotome, he would have arrived here from Korea sometime four days ago. Japanese national, wears a ponytail, likes to probably wear Chinese style outfits, though not too positive on that. He may be traveling with a cute little redhead about twenty five years old that wears about the same style clothes..."

"Please, I..."




"They seem to be getting anxious," Scarlet noted, idly, "I sure hope they don't run out of hot dogs..."

"Alright... Alright, I..."




"Girls!" Scarlet growled, earning a sheepish grin from Lavender, a derisive snort from Chef.

"Ranma Saotome, four days ago, got it!" The heavily sweating man who was feeling sympathy pains in his crotch for the hotdogs repeated, almost breathless.

"Oh, we knew you would help us!" Scarlet beemed at the near fainting man, "When can we expect an answer?"




Scarlet glared at her companions. "We were going to have to do it, anyway, may as well get an honest answer out of him the first try," Lavender said simply. Scarlet rolled her eyes, and turned back to the man.

"Tomorrow! I swear! I'll have him by tomorrow!" Mr. Thomas said at a rushed, nearly stuttering pace.

"Oooh, we knew you wouldn't let us down. Here's the phone number at the hotel we're staying at..." Scarlet threw a glance back to her companions and mused over something, "Um, it would be nice if you didn't call till maybe noon..."

"Noon, okay, noon." Scarlet nodded, and threw one last smile at the man. She messed with his centrifugal sculpture desktoy, before walking out of the office, followed by her two companions. Once they were down the hall, Mr. Thomas let out a weak whimper, as he relieved himself.

"Ewww," Lavenger griped, wiping her hands on her bodysuit, "I they smell like those disgusting things!"

"Get over it, you can wash your hands when you get back to the room," Scarlet commented, as she stepped into the driver's side of their rented dark liquid silver colored Infiniti G35, "Sooner we find Ranma and kill him, the sooner we can get out of this miserable hellhole of a country!"

"It's really not that bad here," Lavender stated idly, earning a glare from both her partners, "What? Really, you're both just being too negative about this."

"Lavender-chan," Scarlet stated with feigned sweetness, "Shut the hell up!" Lavender glared at the snickering Chef sitting next to her.

"It's not healty for a nice girl to be drinking alone." Scarlet turned a sideways glance towards the man sitting on the stool next to her in the hotel bar.

"You're right, guess I should give up drinking completely," she responded, studying her concoction with a slight pout that was hidden behind her long bangs.

"Heh, maybe you should," he replied with a bit of mirth in his voice, "My name's Dan, you?"

Scarlet turned to face the man fully, and looked him up and down, before replying, "Not drunk enough, yet."

The bartender snickered at the responce, earning a glare from Dan. "Hey, don't be like that," the would be mack-daddy continued, as if he was unconcerned about her reply, "You look like you could use someone to talk to. So what is it, man problems?"

"Not really," Scarlet replied, taking a sip from her drink, "My and my girlfriends are just in the country, hunting for our mutual ex-fiancee who happened to be fianceed to all of us at once at the time, so that we can brutally murder him and take his genetalia as trophies, both sets of them." Scarlet then turned to the man next to her, "But with you here, I think we can forget about him, what do you think?" She hid her victorious smile, as she watched Dan fall off of his stool, crawling backwards on the ground.

"Ah, I can see you'd want to be alone at this moment," he replied, before skittling away.

"Sama..." Akane growled, motioning for the bartender to get her another drink, "He could have at least thought to take his damn wedding ring off..."

"Men, can't live with them, can't procreate without them," the male bartender stated with a smirk on his face.

"Yeah, it is not stopping a couple of girls I know from trying, though," the morose woman stated.

"Ah, you got something against lesbians?" the bartender asked casually, sliding Scarlet's drink down to her, "I can't say I say the same, but that's just my opinion, really."

"I can not say that I do," she replied, and then raised her glass, "Kampai."






Scarlet stood outside the door, listening to the two women inside swear at each other while brakine things. Her patience growing thin, and before it became completely worn, she knocked on the door, and waited for one of her partner's to answer.

"CAN'T YOU READ THE DAMN 'DO NOT DISTURB'... Oh hey Scarlet..." Lavender, wearing nothing but a sheetcover around her body, finished weakly.

"I haven't been 'disturbing' you for the last three hours. I've been downstairs in the bar, waiting for you two to finish up," Scarlet stated factually, "I think it's time you two wrapped up your fun."

"You could have come an in at any time," Lavender said with a suggestive lilt in her voice.

Scarlet rolled her eyes behind her bangs, "Look, I'm still jetlagged, and I just want to get some sleep without having to wind down, first."

"Spoilsport," Lavender replied with a touch of humor, "I guess we'll take our shower now, and we will try to keep it quiet for you."

"I would very much appreciate that," Scarlet replied in a weary voice, while stepping into the room, "I'll help you untie Chef from my bed, but I'm sleeping in yours tonight."

Lavender pouted, but was willing to comply.

With an icepack over his crotch, though nothing had actually happened to it, Mr. Thomas scoured his resources, looking for the person of his current assignment. After seven hours of searching, he came across a match. A man of Japanese, or at least Asian descent, with a ponytail who had entered the country through means other than legal, being on US Soil without a passport or so, probably. He was also traveling with a hot Irish chick a head shorter than him. He couldn't come across anything other than the initials of his name, but they matched.

"Mr. R.S., better you than me!" Mr. Thomas said to himself, as he began printing up the info for his current clientele.