Finally the Tomboy---Chapter 1 --- Joyful Awakening

By Ranger5

This is a work of Fan Fiction. I make no claim of right to any of the characters in either Ranma ½ or any other work used herein. This work is (in its own limited way) a tribute to the creators of the manga and anime series upon which this work is based. It is also not for profit and no financial benefit has (or will be) gained by me from my production of this work. My claim is limited to the original characters created and the story line contained herein. This disclaimer in Chapter 1 shall be construed to apply to each chapter of this story and will not be repeated at the head of the individual chapters which (hopefully) will follow.

Morning was never one of Ranma's favorite times. At least they didn't used to be... but now the martial artist didn't mind waking up . . . no ice- water baths to start the morning, no panda to fight with first thing in the morning, no baths in the koi pond after being tossed out a convenient window, now mornings now were (usually) calm ... almost peaceful.

Ranma-chan blinked and stretched stretching her arms and legs to their fullest extension looking very catlike as she went from utter relaxation to full extension enjoying the play of her muscles. A yawn stretched her pixie-like features momentarily but even the massive yawn didn't mar her beauty.

Happy, she was happy, even waking as a girl no-longer bothered her. For so long she felt that happiness was the one emotion that would be forever denied to her. She might have fleeting moments when the emotion would play tag with her, touching her lightly then darting away . . . present one moment and gone the next as it danced forever just out of reach. But now . . . now she was truly happy. Yes, Chaos was still in her life, never fear that she would be cursed with a "normal" existence, but now she had someone . . . actually a couple of some ones to share her life with, her mate and her daughter. Now she was . . . well happy.

Ranma could feel her love laying next to her heat radiating from her like a furnace. The tomboy slept like one dead and wouldn't even notice she was gone. Ranma-chan smiled softly as she looked at her companion, the one who was indeed her soul-mate. Even now the words "I love you," were difficult to say, but at least she had said them. It was far easier to show them, and gradually over the last few months she had grown comfortable with the physical expression of her love. Now she could even cuddle and kiss in front of her friends without turning fire-engine red, without stuttering and stammering uncontrollably. In fact now it was others who were flustered when Ranma became physically expressive, others who blushed and turned away. The feeling was quite a rush, sometimes Ranma almost felt like an exhibitionist . . . and it felt great.

Rising on one arm chin in he palm Ranma-chan looked at "HER tomboy's" sleeping form, her gaze lovingly, intimate with every feature, every facet of her beloved's face and body, someone she never tired of looking at.

Short hair was tangled and damp with sweat from a night well spent making love. Ranma's smile bloomed fully as she recalled the caresses, the kisses and the flirting games they'd played. It wasn't just sex, it was indeed making love. Ranma knew that if they had just cuddled the night though she still would've wakened with a smile on her face just knowing that she was loved.

Though Ranma-chan sometimes wished her love would let her hair grow out, even just a little, she knew that was unlikely . . . and truthfully she didn't really care. She loved the woman inside the package, though the package was well-wrapped indeed.

Ranma's smile changed imperceptibly from a gently loving expression to one that looked . . . well lustful. For so long Ranma had been afraid of intimacy, afraid to let inner feelings be shown, to many mallets, punches and kicks from Akane or one of the other fiances had nearly killed his ability to care, but that was then. Ranma had grown and matured since then.

Tangled in the sheets of their shared bed she looked so beautiful. Ranma- chan took a few moments and just kept looking, the powerful body naked in all its glory, available to her eyes, hidden only slightly by the rumpled sheets, a curve here concealed just enough to excite, but not enough to cover the bounty before her. Shaking her head, Ranma lay on one elbow, content for the moment to just to look, and to enjoy.

Sleeping the her mate's face was more peaceful than it ever was awake, the expression open and calm. Ranma's smile grew softer, her love had a temper, no doubt about that, but she was loyal and loving as well, always there, always ready to share her life to carry some of the burden. The fits of temper never lasted long, like a summer thunderstorm, there were loud and powerful, but quickly they came and were gone. As their relationship grew the storms came less often, and less powerful than before . . . and as Ranma had learned kissing and making up afterwards was great. Sometimes Ranma thought the storms were more for show than substance, a show of independence so to speak.

Yet, for once the shoe was on the other foot, after one of her tantrums the tomboy was amazingly eager to be forgiven. Ranma had learned that a cold shoulder was more effective than loud argument or invective, Ranma no longer excelled at taunting preferring to show displeasure in other ways.

The naughty expression returned as Ranma recalled the fight last night and how eager the tomboy was to earn "forgiveness." Ranma-chan leaned over and gently kissed her soul-mate's ear, softly breathing out after the initial kiss, and watching as her lover blushed in her sleep, one hand reaching out as if seeking someone else . . . and that someone was Ranma. They might fight, but Ranma could never stay truly mad for long. Even the fiance brigade had been forgiven, though they didn't know it . . . well all but one, and that one she never wanted to see again.

Ranma's kisses feathered down he loves cheek, two no three kisses before Ranma softly kissed her on the lips once, then twice before she sighed and flowed out of bed. Quietly the martial artist ghosted to her closet and dressed in loose pants and shirt. Clothes that would allow her to move freely as she practiced her Art before the others awoke. A lightning quick glance at the alarm clock confirmed that it was 5:30 a.m. well before anyone else in the house should be awake. She had time for her morning workout before fixing breakfast.

Ranma grimaced as she recalled the last time she'd been late returning and found the tomboy cooking . . . or at least trying to cook. While she'd improved and the meal wasn't toxic, it could be called tasty only if one were feeling very charitable, and was hardly up to Ranma's own standard.

That was another thing that had changed in the martial artists life. Ranma enjoyed cooking, and after having done so for the last few years was now quite good at it. Not quite up to the standards of a Tendo Kasumi, but drawing closer to that nearly unreachable standard every day. The frown resurrected itself again, she missed the eldest Tendo, letters and e-mail correspondence just weren't the same as seeing Kasumi's smiling face every day, but now that she no longer lived in Nerima she seldom saw the one she considered and loved as her older sister.

Ranma spared one last look at the sheet-shrouded form still asleep before walking lightly to the door. Treading lightly she moved down the hall to her daughter's room. Quietly opening the door she peeked in. As expected her baby was still asleep . . . and looking as cute as a puppy sprawled out on her bed, snoring lightly. Her daughter's dark hair framed delicate features so pretty and so fragile appearing, they belied the strength of her daughter's soul and the burdens she was so unfairly carrying.

Jotting a short note letting the others know that she'd be back shortly Ranma left the house for the nearby park. A short walk later she was there. Though still dark Ranma wasn't worried about being bothered. Several months ago a couple of thugs had decided to have a little fun with Ranma-chan, but a short ambulance ride and stint in the hospital later they decided not to mess with the frail looking girl practicing in the park . . . and they made sure that their buddies knew better too.

Ranma closed her eyes and began the first of several katas, losing herself in the Art. Though she appeared oblivious to her surroundings that was far from the case as her senses were fully engaged, even if virtually on auto- pilot. One movement blended into the other as she began working out. Simple katas first to loosen her muscles and warm them up before moving into the more advanced moves she so loved. Time ceased to have any meaning as she punched, kicked and literally danced around an unseen opponent. Quick and fluid she wasn't just practicing her art she was the Art.

Finally she finished, still breathing lightly considering what would be to most an insanely difficult workout, Ranma bowed slightly toward her shadow enemy then bounded away. Returning home, just the sound of that phrase brought joy to the martial artist. Home . . . home truly was where her heart was, and her home beckoned her now.

A quick shower and change of clothes later and Ranma returned to the kitchen, putting the rice on to cook and laying out three bento boxes to be filled. Ranma sensed the movement before she heard anyone, her ki so attuned to the wa of the house that actually hearing her family wasn't necessary to know that they were indeed awake and getting ready to face another day.

Ranma did hear the light steps her daughter approached the kitchen, then the soft almost shy voice of her daughter greeting her this morning.

"Good morning Michiru-mama. Is papa up yet."

Ranma smiled lovingly at her daughter, she was so cute in her pajamas still rubbing the sleep from tired violet eyes. "No Hotaru-chan. She's not up yet . . . why don't you go wake her up, and see if Setsuna-mama is awake too."

Ranma, or as he now thought of herself Michiru frowned prettily as she considered the third member of their "family." Setsuna, or Sailor Pluto sometimes still scared her. While Pluto had never actually said she knew about her life as Ranma, the hints were still there from time to time, and one of her greatest fears was Haruka finding out she had once been a man . . . as much as she knew Haruka loved her Michiru still feared that event as she feared no other. Daemons, no problem, youma, no problem, saving the world . . . sometimes a problem but the act itself nothing to fear, fear of failure yes, fear of death no . . . but Haruka leaving, that she feared more than death itself.