Disclaimer: I don't own Ranma. I do, however, own everyone else, so deal with it. And, for the heck of it, I'll also claim to own Christmas. Bow before me! Ha ha ha!!

Guardian
Chapter 10
This 'Aint No Christmas Carol

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*Blam!* *Blam!* *Rattattattattatta!* *Blam!*
The Russian commander was roused from his groggy sleep as gunfire echoed outside, and quickly shook the cobwebs from his mind as soldiers around him grabbed their guns.
{"What... What is going on here?"} He demanded slowly, several nights of fitful rest clouding his thoughts as he grabbed for his automatic rifle.
Many soldiers had taken up firing positions in the small warehouse that had been converted into a barracks, reinforcing themselves behind crates or against walls. However, looking around, the men seemed as confused as he was.
{"Are we under attack? Somebody tell me what's going on!"}
Several of the men stood up on crates and other things to look out the small, thin windows near the top of the warehouse, but each shook their heads when they saw nothing.
*Bam!* The front doors burst open, and the soldier that ran through them almost had a heart attack as twenty-seven guns all oriented on him.
{"No! Stop! Someone's attacking!"}
The commander blinked as the soldiers around him lowered their weapons. {"What do you mean? Who's attacking?"}
{"I... He's-"} *BLAM!!!* The soldier was blasted forward, blood gushing out his back as he hit the floor of the warehouse. The men paid him no mind, being trained soldiers, and got back into firing positions, aimed at the shadowed figure in the entrance.
The commander stared. Very tall for a Japanese man, if he was in fact Japanese. He had unruly black hair, and was wearing a plain, brown leather trench coat, similar to the ones favored by his own men. Completing the ensemble, he wore leather gloves of the same color as his coat, and heavy, metal-plated boots that were painted a shiny black. He had something resting on his shoulder... it was impossible to tell what it was, as it was wrapped with brown cloth and tied closed, but it was big, at least four or five feet long, and he held it there easily with one hand. Most importantly, though, is that he held a smoking sawed-off shotgun in the other hand.
{"Drop your weapon, or we'll fire!"} The commander shouted, momentarily forgetting that he was in Japan, and few Japanese would be able to understand such a threat. It didn't really matter though, as he was planning on gunning the man down anyway.
The figure stopped walking, then slowly, almost lazily, scanned the inside of the warehouse, his face cold and expressionless. {"Very well."} He let the shotgun clatter to the floor, and then slowly put his package down, leaning it against the wall behind him.
The commander smirked. {"Ah, you speak Russian? Good! Who are you? What are you doing here?"}
{"I'm... looking for someone,"} he responded. The pause was intentional, and though the man seemed to speak Russian rather sluggishly, he seemed completely fluent. {"Your other questions are irrelevant."} His hand fished inside his coat pocket, causing several of the soldiers aiming at him to squirm nervously, at least until he took out a pack of cigarettes.
The commander shook his head, and smirked at the men who looked at him questioningly. {"Let the worm have a final smoke before his death, men. Fire on my mark."}
Seemingly unconcerned with his death sentence, the intruder slipped a single cigarette from the box, and then put the cartridge back, taking a single match from the same pocket and striking it against the wall before lighting up.
The soldiers all seemed to tense as he took a deep drag...

Outside, a curious warehouse guard that had been attracted by the faint sounds of gunfire was suddenly subjected to the acoustics of a full-on firefight coming from the building he was immediately adjacent to. Oddly enough, the several spurts of automatic gunfire were quickly drowned out and terminated by a pair of loud single-shot weapons being fired at high speed.
Confused, and more than a little frightened, the guard ran to the nearest phone to contact the authorities.

The Russian commander paled and gaped in stupefied horror as the last of his subordinates fell right beside him, blood oozing from the single hole in his forehead.
The intruder looked about him coldly at the corpses of his opponents, the smoke wafting from the two Colt .45s in his hands mingling with the smoke from his cigarette.
Putting away one of the guns into his coat, which was peppered with holes from the automatic rifles, he took a drag from the cigarette before taking it out of his mouth and crushing it in his hand, letting the ashes settle into the gentle creases of the leather. Then, with an eerie decisiveness, he began walking toward the last remaining soldier.
The commander snatched his AK-47 from where he had dropped it, but found it wrenched from his hands and tossed away before he could fire.
The imposing figure looked down on him, his expression exactly the same as it was before. {"You know what I want. Where is he?"} Now that he was closer, and in better light, the commander could tell that the man was in fact Russian himself, the hard lines of his features set in a face like stone. He could also see, with some irony, that the intruder had a golden crucifix hanging from a chain around his neck.
{"I... I have no idea what you're talking about! Where is who?"}
The man raised an eyebrow. {"I must admit, you do a remarkable impression of a complete idiot. Unfortunately, I am not such a good actor."} The Colt was pointed at the man's temple. {"Tell me where Igov is, and I will make your wounds non-fatal."}
Beads of sweat gathered on the commander's brow and crawled down his face, his eyes glued to the muzzle of the weapon. Nonetheless, his eyes kept darting to the man's chest. They had managed to hit him with a few good rounds; how was he still alive? Was he wearing some sort of body armor?
The mysterious gunman apparently noticed and guessed his question, because he dug into one of the small bullet-holes in his coat with his free hand, and pulled out a warped, spent bullet. The tip had some blood on it. {"Rest assured that it will take more than a bullet to stop me, fool. Tell me where Yuchtzky's hiding."}
The commander paled even more, if it was possible. Then, ever so slowly, he raised a fist up... and extended his middle finger.
The figure's expression didn't change. {"I'll take that as a 'no'. Very well."} His finger squeezed the trigger, and the commander's eyes squeezed shut.
*Click*
His eyes shot open again, and he almost laughed in hysterical relief as a sweatdrop rolled down the gunman's head.
Sighing, the man backed away from the soldier and pulled open his trench coat. The commander's expression of relief died quickly as he saw the numerous weapons all lined up and strapped to the inside of the coat, from handguns of various makes, to shotguns, to small explosives.
The gunman chose a handgun at random, then flipped the safety off and aimed once again at the soldier's head. {"Go with God."} *Blam!*
__________________________________________________________________________________

Mizu approached her squad captain briskly, and pulled off the heavy helmet and face mask, tucking it under her arm. Her hair spilled out as she did so, and she shook her head to loosen it. As proud as she was to be part of Core, she hated the protect-gear. She figured she might think differently if she'd ever been shot at, but until then, she would have much preferred a simple breastplate piece, like the DAPC had.
"Captain, we've secured the area and searched the warehouse. There's no one alive in there, and all the corpses are Russian, with military uniforms, weapons, and identification. Looks like we hit a pack of Yuchtzky's goons."
The captain sighed through the breather in his helmet. "Great, so that loon did manage to sneak some firepower in here. But the question is, who hit this place before we did?"
"We have no idea, but whoever did it managed to do it without any casualties, or if not, they managed to clean up so that it looks like they did. We found some shotgun shells scattered around the outside, numerous 7.62 mm casings, presumably from the soldiers, some .45 caliber casings, and a single 9 mm. casing."
The captain blinked underneath the ghastly facemask. "Someone assaulted a group of armed soldiers with handguns and shotguns?"
Mizu nodded. "That's what it looks like, though we can't be sure. In any case, several of the bodies looked as if they had been looted after they were killed, and some of the AK-47s may have been taken, at least if there was one for each soldier."
The captain nodded. "Good work Kotetsu. I'll get some analysts in there right away. We're done here." He turned toward the warehouse. "All right people, pack it up! We're leaving!"
Several Core soldiers stalked away from the warehouse, looking like armored wraiths in their powered body armor. Mizu actually shuddered a bit at the sight, and wondered if she looked just as creepy to other people when she was all suited up.
The captain removed his own headgear wearily, and nodded to Mizu. "So, we've got tomorrow off for Christmas. What're you doing?"
Mizu shrugged as she walked through the thin layer of snow, her heavy, aluminum plated boots leaving huge prints behind her. "I'll just go have dinner with my parents, like every year." Then she frowned, as if thinking. "Actually..." she smiled, "I think I'll ask Ranma to come! That'd be perfect!"
The captain blinked. "Ranma?"
Mizu nodded. "Ranma Saotome. He works for the DAPC. He doesn't have any family to spend Christmas with, so I'll invite him to spend it with us! It's perfect!"
She turned to the captain, and blinked as she saw that the man's eyes were wide.
"He's part of the DA?! Are you insane?! You could be killed!!"
Mizu sweatdropped, and her expression flattened. "From inviting him to dinner?"
The captain shook his head. "You never know with those maniacs. Sure, it starts out with dinner, but then you have mutant freaks invading the house, and C-4 planted everywhere!" The man seemed to sincerely believe what he was saying, and Mizu found herself trying to decide if it was amusing or annoying.
"Thanks for your concern, but I'm sure I'll manage," Mizu muttered.
The man seemed a bit put off by the tone, but tried to placate her. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't believe ALL the weird stories behind that department, but we all saw the squid."
Mizu sweatdropped again. "True. I'll be careful. But they're not psychotic menaces like they're made out to be. Well, at least Ranma isn't. I'm not too sure about that 'Snake' fellow."
The captain nodded. "Well, you just take care of yourself. This Ranma fellow is a lucky guy."
Mizu flashed a smile at him. 'Just wait Ranma, 'cause you're on my Christmas list!'
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John Remerick continued sorting through the damage reports wearily, idly chewing on the pen clamped in the side of his mouth.
{"Yeesh... these guys are a total environmental hazards. First the bay, and now this."} He muttered in English. {"I think there would actually be less damage if we just let the Freedom's Angels do what they want and get away."}
{"Yes, but we can't let that happen, can we?"} Mia protested, entering John's office without knocking first.
John frowned as he glanced at the gorgeous brunette. Mia had recently developed some positive interest in the Department of Abnormal Phenomenae Containment, and, for some reason, had started to look into their operations a little more closely and point out what little they did right. Not that they didn't do SOME good, but the DA always left it to the higher-ups to clean up and explain their messes, and it irked him that his assistant had stopped sympathizing with his suggestion to have them all imprisoned, or at least fired. He suspected it was because she learned that her cousin was with that particular squad, though she had spent quite a bit of time talking about the remarkable capabilities of some other guy, Ran-something.
"I don't even see the point," John remarked irritably, switching to Japanese, "a major firefight occurs, and a private structure is destroyed, and for what? Those idiots didn't even realize that the orders they stole had been invalidated the day before!"
Mia sweatdropped, and put the stack of folders she was carrying on John's desk. "Well, they didn't really steal them, persay..." she caught the general's "you've got to be kidding me" look, and cleared her throat before continuing. "And apparently the FA's didn't know any better than they did. Civilians could have been seriously hurt!"
John rolled his eyes. "And the hotel?"
"Okay, okay. So that got a little out of hand. But I was there! Saotome totally saved my ass, and those K-series could've torn everything to scrap. We owe them one." Mia finished, arms crossed under her breasts.
John shook his head. "All well and good, but again, what did all that accomplish? I'll show you!" He grabbed the head of his computer monitor, and swiveled it around so Mia could see it before he tapped a key on his desk.
"These are their profile records. Mr. Ken Yakata's been playing around with his files."
Mia sweatdropped. On the monitor was a large picture of Snake with a chaingun in one hand and a victory sign on the other. Next to it was all the normal profile information, along with a few unusual stats, such as "total kills", "most powerful vanquished", "percentage of total kills in party", "ugliest mutant wasted", and "remaining kills to beat Sylvester Stallone". Under it all was a digital score counter, along with a kill scoring guide under that.
"Wow. Impressive." Mia looked at the scoring guide. "'Maulers'? Is that what he calls K-series?"
John sighed. "That's what the boys that took apart the one with the blasted head named them. These mutants are getting worse and worse. Though I'd much rather have to deal with the mutants than with the DAPC." Another sigh followed.
Mia patted her boss on the back affectionately. John may have been judging the DA a little harshly, but then, all he ever saw were the complaints about the damage they did. He would probably think differently if he had gotten caught in the midst of it, as she had. Besides, his concerns were legitimate; the DAPC seemed incapable of securing an area without leveling it afterwards.
Hoping to get the general's mind off his troubles, Mia changed the subject. "So, what are you doing for Christmas, hm?"
Another depressed sigh followed, much to her frustration. "Working. All my family's in the 'States, and we don't really keep in touch. I could fly down there, but I'd have to hunt down their addresses. Hell, we don't even send each other cards." He turned toward her. "You?"
Mia bit her lip. "Well, I'm going to my parents' place for dinner." She smiled. "Why don't you come along?"
John seemed startled. "What? Me? Why?"
"It wouldn't be imposing or anything, and it'll do you some good to get away from work. Come on!" She punched him lightly in the shoulder, grinning.
John mulled it over for a bit, then shrugged. "Well... okay, if you're sure it's all right..."
Mia nodded happily. "Good!" Then she stopped to consider something. "Though... I should warn you. Alexandra will be there."
The general blinked. "What? How? Hasn't she been arrested already?"
Mia shrugged helplessly. "I wrote out the warrant myself, but then I was told there was some extra red tape, because this crosses so many departments. You know, local, international, military, and economic. Just a lot of beaurocratic garbage before we can slam her." She winked. "Don't worry, I sent it to the right people. She'll be in our hands before we know it."
__________________________________________________________________________________

Yawning deeply, a lone clerk walked into his office, hanging his coat on the wall before walking to his desk. The desk was cluttered with papers, and a huge tower of paperwork piled over a small box that said "In".
Sitting down, the clerk reflected upon the dreadful monotony and utter worthlessness of his job. Pushing papers that nobody else wanted to deal with was not exactly rewarding work, spiritually or financially. At his desk could be found the articles that needed to be brought to the attention of people who didn't care. The ideas that over-cautious politicians didn't want to risk, but were too good or valid to throw away. Requests that were too ugly or mind-boggling for a paid decision-maker to think about. And, ironically, warrants for terrorist masterminds that also happened to be presidents of major corporations. They all came to him.
He shuffled around in the papers littering his desk for his pen, then tiredly stood up to take a paper from the top of his "In" stack.
"Let's see. What's first?" Leaning his head on his elbow, he scanned over the page. "Uh huh... Battle of Midway... requests for supplies... reinforcements..." he frowned. "Hmmm... date?" He looked further down the page. "Ooh...... er..." He looked up from the page, and his lips pressed into a thin line.
Then he stuck his hand in the middle of his "In" stack, and jammed the paper in-between the heavy folds.
"There, I'll just deal with that later." Looking somewhat satisfied, he turned to look at the small clock on his desk. "Still an hour until quitting time." He sighed wearily, then took the next page in his box.
"Uh huh. Let's see..." A sweatdrop rolled down his head. "Hiroshima needs emergency supplies, medical aid, and experts on radiation poisoning?" He scanned the page again. "A nuclear bomb?" He put the paper down, and planted his chin on his fist as he thought. He looked at the clock. Then he looked at the paper. Then he looked back at the clock.
Then he got up, picked up the clock, and turned the dial in the back until it was an hour ahead.
"Quitting time! I'll save this for after Christmas." Feeling an unfamiliar rise in his morale, the clerk collected his jacket and left the dark, gloomy room, whistling merrily all the way.
__________________________________________________________________________________

Asuka took a long gulp from the cup of coffee steaming on her desk, hoping to stave off the waves of sleepiness that threatened to overtake her at any moment.
If she'd ever been more miserable in her life, she couldn't remember when. Spending an entire night answering questions and interrogations, submitting and resubmitting paperwork, answering complaints from everywhere imaginable, and trying to get Alexandra Tokima and Bei Takana arrested were not activities that promoted easy sleep. Well, not that she had any time to sleep.
Sighing heavily, Asuka snatched up her pen and signed her name at the bottom of a long letter, right under her very colorfully worded paragraph detailing why the DAPC cared more about saving lives than promoting the economy, as well as helpfully offering the reader a list of places he or she could stuff any opinions to the contrary.
"Christmas spirit my boot. Bah, humbug." She muttered, placing the final evil collection of wood fibers atop the large pile that had already accumulated.
Swallowing the rest of her coffee and dropping the cup on the floor listlessly, Asuka left her office.

The moment she walked out the door she was immediately subjected to an assault from an unknown source, taking a small mass of slimy liquid right in the face.
Twitching noticeably, she slowly raised her hand and then sharply wiped her eyes clear of the foreign substance.
"All right, who did that?!" Asuka yelled, blinking quickly. The goo was fairly thin, but it still threatened to obscure her vision. Her ears weren't obscured though, and now that she was out of her office, she could hear a fair amount of chatter and laughing from the main office.
"Sorry about that, babe. My eggnog got knocked outta my hand." She felt a hand gently take a shoulder, and a towel roughly wipe her face clean. She squinted her eyes shut as the thick beverage was quickly scrubbed from her face, and then looked up to see who the perpetrator was; she hadn't recognized the voice.
To her surprise, it was an unfamiliar, reasonably handsome black haired man who was grinning down at her. A quick look verified that he had a police badge on his chest, but she had never seen him before.
"All better, eh beautiful?" he chuckled, and rubbed her shoulder a bit where his hand lay. "I'd offer you a drink, but I guess you just had one."
Asuka sighed.
*C-click* The man's eyes crossed as he looked down the barrel of the Baretta aimed at his nose, and he gulped.
"Here's a tip Romeo: DON'T hit on the stressed-out chick with eggnog on her face and a 9 mm. at her hip." Her tone was surprisingly conversational, which belied how strongly she had to resist the urge to pull the trigger.
Beads of sweat began crawling down his head. "Y-Yes Miss... um... Miss..."
"That's CAPTAIN Takami to you, dolt. Now bugger off," she snapped. He did so, and in haste.

Taking the towel on the ground and continuing to wipe off her face, Asuka finally got a good look into the main lobby of the HQ. Ranma and Kyle stood by the door to the hall, the latter with a cup of vodka in his hand. In the lobby, Tycho, Tiro, Seras, and Yamma were all mingling and chatting with several men and a few women that Asuka had never seen before. Sakura and Junko were both wearing playboy bunny suits and lingering in the midst of it all; Sakura was busy dispensing drinks to the numerous men leering at her, while Junko had already found a comfortable seat in a police chief's lap.
She stared at the sight for a few moments, then dropped the towel on the floor and cleared her throat loudly enough for the two nearest men to hear. "Lieutenant Tekai? Saotome? May I speak with you two for a moment?"
Ranma and Kyle looked back at her, shot each other a glance, and then cautiously approached. Asuka mentally applauded their nervousness; apparently they were learning.
"May I ask who all these people are, and what they're doing in headquarters?" Asuka asked Kyle directly. She had known Ranma for long enough that she figured he'd never pull this sort of stunt. And she had known Kyle more than long enough to know that this was exactly the kind of thing she'd expect from him.
The blond man scratched the back of his head anxiously. "Well, Tycho was talking about all these buddies he had on the local forces. You know, the regular guys on the streets and all. Anyway, he said that their HQ wasn't big enough for the Christmas party they wanted to throw, so he offered to let them all come over here. Just for today. They're very grateful. Think of it as a P.R. move." Asuka raised her hand to halt him, as it looked as if Kyle was starting to babble.
"I'd rather think of it as something I don't have to deal with," she lowered her hand and began picking at some eggnog that was still stuck on her bangs. "Just make sure you clean up afterwards. Is Snake gone already?"
Ranma nodded. "He said that he was going to visit his family in America. He left this morning."
She frowned. "That's odd. The tanks he had parked outside were gone. If he's gone, what happened to them?"
"He told me that he sent them to some friends of his that would know what to do with them."
__________________________________________________________________________________

"Okay, so we've finally got the magnetic drivers working properly, but now it's overheating?" The scientist ran a hand through his hair, sighing in frustration.
The other man, a weapons engineer, nodded. "Yeah, we've got all the kinks out of the firing system, but now that were using the new tri-lock chargers, it's generating way more heat than we expected. We're going to have to totally rework the cooling system."
The scientist grimaced. "Okay. I'll call Tama-" *Bzzzzt!*
The two men blinked, then turned toward the main door to the lab.
Exiting the lab area, they punched a code into a small console, and the large, heavy doors slowly opened, revealing a short man in a blue uniform.
"I've got some packages here for Yuhamaro and Tonoda of Fat Man Weapons Contractors. That you two?"
They nodded slowly, and the man jabbed his thumb off to the side.
Lying in the parking lot were two large tanks, wrapped tightly in red foil wrapping so that the turret shape was clear and visible, and tied with a large white ribbon.
"Whoa! I wonder what those are!" Tonoda breathed.
"That's why I'm the scientist," Yuhamaro remarked, and took the clipboard. "A present? From... Hey Tonoda!! These are from Snake!!"
The other man yanked hard on the ribbon, causing the foil to unwrap completely. "SWEET!!! It's an IS-2! This thing is a classic!"
Yuhamaro smiled, shaking his head. "That Snake. What a guy." He signed the clipboard, and handed it back to the delivery man. "Thanks. It'll look great in my living room."
"As long as it doesn't blow up like that Scud missile he found last year." His companion added.
The weapons scientist frowned. "Well, he could have taken the time to disarm it. Or at least told me the warhead was active."
The deliveryman merely walked away, shaking his head. "Psychos."
__________________________________________________________________________________

Asuka shrugged. "Whatever. So long as it's not our problem anymore." She stretched slightly. "I'm leaving. I've got to get across town tonight, so I'd better get ready."
"Leaving?" Kyle sounded disappointed, "but we thought you could stay!"
Asuka gave him an odd look. "Why would I stay? Three hours of bad lawyer jokes and drinking spiked eggnog until I pass out isn't my idea of a good time."
Kyle gave her a pleading look. "But Tycho already rented the third bunny costume!"
The temperature in the room immediately dropped five degrees, and Ranma quickly took a big step away from Kyle.
"Excuse me?" Asuka's voice was perfectly flat.
"Tycho rented party suits for all the women," Kyle explained, "and he told me to ask you to try it on and stay a while."
".................." Asuka stared at him mutely for a few moments, then twitched. "Well, that would be because you're the only one STUPID enough to-" *Pap* Slapping her hip, she stopped speaking as she realized her gun wasn't in its holster. "Uh, stupid enough to ask... Er, wait, where did I...?" She began looking around on the floor around her.
"So... is that a 'no'?" Kyle asked none-too-cautiously.
"Of course it is!" Asuka snapped, picking up the wet towel and looking underneath it. "Now go away. I think I lost my gun."
Kyle blinked in surprise, and Asuka frowned before walking away.
Ranma shook his head, and flipped the Baretta around in his hand before tossing it Kyle. "You owe me one, man. Lay off the alcohol before you kill off the rest of your brain cells, all right?"
Kyle rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. Alcohol doesn't kill brain cells. Otherwise, Seras would be total idiot right now."
Ranma scratched his chin as he turned to look at the scientist, who had already drank several pints more than anyone else in the room and was earning many gazes of respect and admiration from some of the visiting officers.
"While there's a huge, obvious hole in that logic, he is a lot smarter than you, so maybe you're onto something." He gave the older man a smile to show that he was only joking (sort of), only to see him nodding somberly. "Uh... right. Anyway, I'll be seeing you. I gotta talk to the captain." Without waiting for a reply, Ranma jogged into the hall, the laughter and chatter fading behind him.

Asuka shot a curious look over her shoulder as she noticed Ranma following her. She hadn't found her gun yet, but decided not to worry about it, since it was obviously somewhere in the police station, and she had simply taken another from the armory.
"Something wrong, Saotome?" She asked, wondering why he wasn't back with the others. Well, besides the obvious; Ranma didn't seem to thrive on that sort of behavior at all, but she still wanted to know why he was following her.
Ranma slowed down as he approached. "I was just thinking, well, maybe you should stick around for a while."
Asuka's eyes narrowed, and Ranma waved his arms in appeasement gestures as her Glare of Death began. "Without the suit! Without the suit!"
Asuka stopped glaring, but still stared at him flatly. "Why should I? I'm finished with the paperwork, FINALLY."
Ranma shrugged. "I don't know, maybe it'll help you loosen up. Why are you so down anyway?"
Asuka turned away sharply, her dark blue hair almost lashing out as it followed the movement of her head. "That's none of your concern."
Ranma took a step back at the coldness of the response, but after a moment, he saw Asuka's shoulders slump.
"But... since you cared enough to ask..." she slowly turned around, and sighed. "It's just that I'm spending Christmas with my family downtown."
Ranma blinked. Then he blinked again. "And that's a... BAD thing?"
Asuka nodded tiredly. "It's a major drag. Tiro's not the only one with some bad apples on his family tree." She shrugged helplessly.
Ranma scratched the back of his head. True, he'd had more than his fair share of experience with dysfunctional families, but it was hard to imagine anything in the scope of having to deal with a twisted, sadistic, homicidal woman.
Then he remembered Akane. "Point taken."
Asuka shrugged. "Sometimes you can't pick your friends OR your relatives. Go figure." She frowned. "So... what about you? Just visiting the family?"
Ranma blinked. "Uhm, not really. I... sorta left my home on pretty bad terms with my parents. We don't really keep in touch. Or communicate. Or acknowledge each others' existence." Ranma shrugged as well. "Go figure."
Asuka stared, a bit taken aback. "That's terrible! How did that happen?"
Ranma sighed deeply. "It's a LONG story. I guarantee you don't want to hear it."
Asuka cocked her head to the side. "Well, if you don't have anything else to do, you could always come and-" Asuka stopped in mid-sentence, her mouth freezing around the next word.
Ranma quickly looked to see if there was anything behind or above him, but saw nothing. "What?"
Asuka's mouth moved a few times, and then she shut it and turned around. "Nothing! Nothing at all! Merry Christmas!" She shouted, scurrying away to the garage, and leaving a confused Ranma standing in the hall.
Ranma stared at her retreating back until she was out of sight, and then scratched his head. "Most odd."
*Ssssyah-* *HIC!* *-sss...*
Ranma turned around at the noise, and then, not seeing anything, looked down at the floor.
A snake-sized worm with a mouth full of sharp, jagged teeth writhed slowly on the floor, its eyeless head wobbling back and forth unsteadily.
Ranma blinked and stared at it.
*Ssssss-* *HIC!* *-sssssSYAH!* The bizarre creature lashed out with shocking speed (considering its apparent drunkenness), and Ranma's own reflexes seemed paralyzed as it lunged with lightning-like agility.
*Smash!* Right into the wall two inches to the right of Ranma's leg. It's teeth, that normally stuck out in odd angles already, were driven back into its head from the impact, killing it instantly.
Ranma's eyes slowly returned to their normal size, and he gazed down at the worm as a puddle of green blood (which smelled suspiciously like rum) gathered under it.
"I stand corrected. THAT was most odd." With that, Ranma turned around and headed down the hall back to the party, vowing to forget the whole experience.
__________________________________________________________________________________

"So I was just saying, Ranma has nowhere else to stay anyhow, so why not invite him?" Sakura poured some eggnog and handed the cup to her brother. "He's already staying over our house. I don't mind cooking dinner for one more person."
Kyle shrugged. "I guess it'd be alright. Though he might have plans, don't you think?"
Sakura stopped in the middle of pouring herself a cup. "You think so?"
Kyle took a sip of eggnog, then shrugged again. "If he doesn't already, he probably will soon. Hi Mizu!"
Sakura whirled around, knocking over the half-filled cup as she turned to glare at the woman waving across the room.
Ignoring the heated gaze, Mizu weaved through the sparse crowd of police officers and walked up to the pair with a smile.
"Hello. I was just looking for Ranma. Do you know where I can find him?"
Sakura turned sharply toward her brother. "As a matter of fact, I was just about to go look for him myself. Where did he go, Kyle?"
The blond man watched as Mizu shot a fierce look at his sister, and then she too turned toward him.
"Er... I saw him walking after the Captain a little while ago. He might be in the garage."
Both women stopped for a moment to consider the significance of Ranma following Asuka, and just as quickly decided that it wasn't important. As one, they turned around and started walking briskly toward the garage.
Mizu frowned as they passed into the center of the party, glancing over at her competitor. Then she quickly lashed her foot out to the side, tripping Sakura, who yelled in surprise as she fell flat on her face.
"Ow! Hey! Come back here!" Sakura yelled, growing increasingly furious as Mizu didn't even turn around to look at her.
Several of the officers had noticed what happened, and one kneeled down next to the scantily-clad woman. "Hey, are you okay?"
Sakura looked up at him from where she was lying on the floor, then reached out and grabbed a walkie-talkie hanging off his waist.
"Hey, what're you-"
Sakura ignored the man as she hurled the item with uncanny accuracy at her target.
*Thwack!* "Gyah!" Mizu pitched forward as the heavy object bashed into her head, and barely managed to keep her balance by grabbing onto Yamma, who happened to be standing nearby.
"You little brat! I'm gonna rip that fluffy tail off of you and shove it down your throat!"
Sakura growled fiercely, standing up slowly. "Oh yeah? Try it, and I'll tear out that ugly hair of yours and strangle you with it!"
The gathered officers all stared wide-eyed as the two women charged each other, punching and kicking as they fell to the ground in a heap of flailing limbs.
One of them turned to Tycho. "Man, you guys always throw the best parties!"
"Ow! Stop biting, you top-heavy bimbo!"
"When you quit with the nails, slut! Ack!"
On the sidelines, the guys began taking bets and forming cheering sections.
"C'mon bunny-girl! Get her!"
"New chick! New chick!"
"Go blondie! Daddy needs a new CD player!"
"Attack the costume! Go for the straps on the sides! Come on!"

Ranma walked into the room, his hands in his pockets. He immediately noticed that the guests were gathered in a large circle around something in the middle of the room, but paid it no heed, walking right up to Kyle.
"Hey man, I'm gonna leave now... you having your family over for Christmas?"
Kyle nodded, giving Ranma a moment of attention away from the fight. "Yep. You staying for dinner?"
Ranma shook his head. "Nah, it's all right. I'll stay in a hotel tonight, so don't wait up for me."
Kyle nodded absently. "Got it. See ya, man."
Ranma noticed that the lieutenant didn't even take his eyes off the disturbance in the middle of the room this time. Next to him, Junko shook her head.
"Sakura's technique is pretty good. She's already managed to rip Mizu's pants down. Though she'll probably lose the shoulder strap to the costume soon."
Ranma stared at the redhead for a moment, then hopped up onto the table Kyle was leaning against and looked into the fray.
"Augh!! Stop it! You're tearing my shirt!"
"Oof! Eat it, slut!" *Rip*
"And there goes the strap," Junko noted.
"And Mizu's shirt," Kyle added. A number of wolf whistles erupted from the crowd.
Ranma teetered a bit from where he was crouching on the table. *Thud*
Getting off the ground, he turned toward his co-workers. "What's going on? Why are they fighting?"
Kyle rolled his eyes. Junko smiled, then pinched Ranma's cheek. "Awww... you're cute when you're clueless, you know that?"
Ranma sweatdropped. "Right. Sure. I'm leaving. See you guys." He turned around without another thought, and began walking toward the exit.
"Tiro's got a video camera! Do you want a copy of the tape?" Junko called out.
Ranma stopped as he opened the door. "Can't you just tell me who won?"
Junko blinked, then smiled again. "Aww... so innocent, too. Maybe I should fix that later."
Ranma stared for a moment, wondering what that was supposed to mean. "Whatever. Bye." Giving up, Ranma opened the door and exited the building.
_________________________________________________________________________________

"And so the deconstruction toxins break down the inherent biogenetic structure, allowing for genetic reconstruction based on either properly homogenized DNA samples or genetic grafting, which involves the DNA modules that Project Mobius has been creating. Genetic grafting is an extremely complicated process that allows DNA to be manipulated to an extent never before imagined, due to the complications involved when dealing with nucleic acids. Genetic grafting using modules allows us to bypass many of the complications of direct bioengineering, as well as giving us far more control over the continual mutations that the subjects undergo."
Bei's pen was a blur as she struggled to keep up with the lecture on her notepad. Many sheets of paper already folded over the top of the pad indicated how long she had been at it already.
Yoshi smirked at the woman beside him, impressed despite himself. He had felt sorry for the poor girl at first, as monitoring him was no simple (nor enjoyable) task. She had proven very diligent, however, and had written down everything he'd said, as well as mentioned everything that seemed unnecessary or wasteful as he gave her the tour of the lab facility.
Bei, for her part, was tired, irritated, and extremely confused. She had managed to get down everything Yoshi had said, but she still had a few long nights with an unabridged dictionary ahead of her before she'd be able to understand the specifics of what Yoshi had told her. "Okay. Now what about this area though? This equipment looks a little different from the other stuff." Never mind that all the equipment in this particular lab seemed more precise and varied than that of Wraith's laboratories.
'Why did he want this building anyway? He already has plenty of lab space. Ms. Tokima should've given it to Yuchtzky.'
Yoshi adjusted his glasses. "Ah. That is some older equipment I obtained from some American labs."
Bei raised an eyebrow after she made the appropriate notes. "What's it for?"
Yoshi shrugged. "Stuff."
Bei nodded and wrote that down. Then she blinked as she read what she'd written. "'Stuff'? What do you mean, 'stuff'?"
"Let's just say there's some controversy surrounding the subject." Yoshi confided, taking out a small vial and placing it on a lab table. "It's getting late. I think I'll shut down for the night."
He began walking toward the exit, paying no heed to the young woman he left behind. Bei blinked at his back, then followed.
"That's it? Aren't there any T-virus vats in here?"
"None," Yoshi answered immediately. "This area isn't nearly secure enough to hold virus samples. Or the new mutagens."
Bei stopped. "New mutagens?"
Yoshi nodded. "Sintek technology. Originally their mutation processes were incompatible with our most efficient genetic grafting techniques. I think I managed to meet halfway on it."
Bei wrote his words down slowly. "Okay..."
Yoshi stepped into a sterilized airlock, and Bei hurried into it behind him as the glass doors closed with a hiss.
A thin gas filled the small chamber, flowing over its two occupants before being sucked into air vents in the ceiling. A red light next to the exit door beeped, and turned green as the quick, but efficient, sterilization process finished.
With another hiss, the exit doors opened, allowing Yoshi and Bei to leave the main lab area.
"I'll expect that you and probably Alexandra as well will be joining me on the 26th to further evaluate my production?"
Bei nodded. "Yes we will."
"Good. See if you can get the Russian chap to come with you." Yoshi said absently, punching his code into the heavy metal access doors.
Bei blinked. "Igov? Why?"
Yoshi shrugged as he exited the building. "Education. Competition. Spite. Take your pick. Good night, Miss Takana."
Bei frowned as she watched the little scientist walk away into the streets toward his car. She couldn't help but wonder what he was up to.
Then she looked down at her note pad. "Well, if I'm ever going to find out, I'd better figure out what all this means."
Sighing to herself, she headed in the opposite direction toward her own vehicle.
__________________________________________________________________________________

Junko shook her head in amusement as she looked at the two women sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, facing away from each other. Both had a number of scratches and bruises on their bodies, which, through the given course of events, had become far more exposed than was totally appropriate.
Sakura wrapped the towel that Kyle had given her more tightly around herself, refusing to look at the woman right behind her. Her skimpy bunny outfit had not been designed to take the abuse of such a battle, and had thus come apart rather spectacularly, giving everybody a free show. The sheer embarrassment of having exposed her chest to a crowd of men almost offset the pride she had gained at having won.
Mizu seethed as she gripped the towel wrapped around her more tightly. She had gotten off much easier as far as exposure, as she had only been stripped down to the point where her undergarments were clearly visible. This was, conversely, offset by the fact that Sakura had managed to wrestle her into a chokehold until she had given up. How could a worthless nitwit like that have beaten her? Clearly Sakura was more experienced at this sort of fighting, but it still irked her greatly that she had lost to someone who was reportedly worthless in combat.
Junko stared at the two fuming women for a few more moments, then turned toward her fellow officers. The guests had already left, having collected their winnings/lamented their losses, thanked Tycho for the great time, and ordered their copies of the video from Tiro.
"All right," she started, "so... who wants to give them the talk about how pathetic and juvenile they're acting?"
The assembled officers and scientists looked at each other.
"I think we pretty much would've done the exact same thing if it were us." Tycho ventured. Tiro, Seras, Yamma, and Kyle all nodded.
Junko frowned. "Good point. Me too."
"Well, somebody's got to say something. We can't just leave them there." Kyle scratched his head and looked worriedly at his sister.
Tycho thought about it, and then walked up the pair.
"Yo, Mizu?"
The raven-haired girl turned toward him, blinking. "Yes?"
"Look, that bunny suit you ripped up? That was a rental. So, if I give you the receipt, would you mind compensa-"
"Do you wrestle?" Mizu interrupted.
Tycho blinked. "No, not really. Why? Hey! What're you-" *Wham!* *Pow!* *Thock!* "Ow! No! Not there! Please, no!! Ow! Stop it!! I give up!! Please!"
The assembled men and Junko winced as Tycho got the living daylights beaten out of him. Behind the massacre, Sakura stared impassively as Mizu vented on the DA's premiere driver, before slowly getting up and walking toward Kyle.
"I'm going to go change. Did Ranma leave already?"
Kyle nodded. "Yup. Sorry, but he said he's going out tonight."
Sakura sighed. "Oh well. I'll be out in a minute."
Sakura left for the locker room, tugging irritably at the broken strap that poked out over her shoulder.
The others watched her go, and various thoughts surfaced as they each considered what had happened, and the events leading up to it.
Junko. 'Feh. This would all be so much easier on them if they'd just get together and have a big orgy with him. Maybe get the Captain in it too. She could use some stress relief.'
Tycho. 'Lucky bastard, having two girls fighting over him. Why are such gifts granted to the people who appreciate them the least?'
Seras. 'The thing that drives woman is a mysterious thing indeed. I need more rum.'
Tiro. 'Damn! Sakura's got such a fine ass!'
Yamma. 'I'm sure the worm was dead. But still, I'm also sure I saw it crawling out of the lab... hmmm...'
Kyle. 'Wait... if 'flammable' means it catches fire, how come 'inflammable' doesn't mean it's fireproof?'
"Uhm, hey..."
All the officers turned to look at Mizu, who blushed at the sudden attention (as she still had her clothes torn up). She had only been addressing Junko, but didn't know everyone's names yet.
"Excuse me, miss...?"
Junko blinked. "Chikiko. Call me Junko, though."
"Right. Do you have any... spare clothes? These are kind of all I have... and it's cold out..."
Everyone in the room sweatdropped.
__________________________________________________________________________________

"La dee da dee da... bum ba dum-dee da dum dum daa..." Yoshi hummed to himself merrily as he walked down the street, earning himself a few odd stares at his offbeat tune, but nothing more.
He always marveled at the complexity of humanity. No other species was so conflicted; so distinct, and with such variations.
And yet, within that complexity lied a great simplicity as well. None of the people that surrounded him thought anything of him; he was a little man, fairly old, hardly worth noticing. None of them realized the power that he toyed with on a regular basis. Indeed, few of them could even comprehend what he accomplished daily, and not a one could possibly understand his greater designs.
Yoshi knew that others thought of him as impossibly arrogant, but by the same token, he thought the same of them for judging him. Yoshi was one of a very small group of people.
Another thing that the geneticist found fascinating about humans was the sheer potential that the common human had, and yet, how nearly all of them would let this potential go to waste, being sapped away with time and age. People were so concerned with trivial things: minor pleasures, money, entertainment, the opposite sex. It disgusted him, to an extent, but at the same time he understood that these men and women never strived to perfect themselves; what else should they do with their lives?
Yoshi smiled. He was not one of them. Born small and weak, he had long ago realized that he had a special purpose in life. That he had a potential to fill. There were few others like him.
Yoshi's smile grew. Few others. But they were there.
"Hello officer. Cold out, isn't it?"
Ranma turned to look at the little bespectacled man from where he was observing a magazine at a newsstand. "Huh? Oh, yeah, it is." He muttered. "Seems kind of warm for this time of year, actually. We haven't had much snow."
Yoshi nodded. "True enough." He turned toward the cashier. "Yesterday's paper, please." He handed the man a bill, and took the offered newspaper.
Yoshi hummed a bit to himself as he looked over the headlines, then opened up the paper.
"Hm! Another mutant sighting! A 'mauler' this time. Simply dreadful, these things."
Ranma shrugged as he turned the page to his comic book. "Eh, they're not too bad. At least they're not as ugly as those carriers." He looked over the page, and scoffed slightly. "Feh. I could do that."
Yoshi smirked slightly as he looked up from his paper. "Oh? They look rather frightening to me. And this one ripped open a truck."
Ranma snorted. "Not impressed. I could take one any day."
Yoshi chuckled a bit. "Ah, to be young and brash again. I'm sure you're quite the fighter, but the human body has limits."
Ranma turned to look the man straight in the eyes for the first time, peering down into the slightly frosty lenses of Yoshi's spectacles.
"If you underestimate a guy because he's human, and not some 10-foot armored monster, you're asking for a beating. There's more to combat than size and power." Ranma rubbed his nose with his thumb for a moment, then looked back down at the man. "Besides, not everyone has these 'limits' you're talking about." He smirked as he finished, going back to his comic book.
Yoshi chuckled again, rolling up the newspaper and throwing it into a nearby trashcan. "Oh, everyone has their limit. I'm simply glad to see that not everyone aims so low."
Ranma shot him a puzzled glance, and Yoshi stuffed his hands in his pockets as he began to walk back toward his car.
"Good day officer, and may you reach your own limit one day. It will be a grand sight to see, I'm sure!"
Ranma blinked as Yoshi walked away, eventually losing himself in a crowd of people traveling the streets.
"What a weird little guy..." Ranma shrugged and turned back to his comic book, before he blinked in surprise, realizing something.
"Wait... I'm not wearing my badge. How did he know I was an officer?"

Yoshi climbed back into his car, and started down the road toward his home.
"Yes. Saotome is the one. But that was clear from the beginning. Still... I have a long way to go yet before I'm ready for him."
Slowing at an intersection, he switched lanes and made a U-turn, heading back toward the laboratory near the docks of Tokyo. He was rather glad that Snake had ended up destroying the facility in Okinawa; Alexandra had felt obliged to supply Yoshi with a replacement, and the commute was a lot better, even if the facility wasn't as secure or up-to-date.
"I will see my dream realized... and then, I will be as a God..."
__________________________________________________________________________________

Alex twitched.
Igov noticed this out of the corner of his eye, and turned toward her slightly. "Is there something wrong, Alexandra?"
Alex frowned, then shook her head. "No, I... it's just... suddenly, I felt an overwhelming urge to... slap someone."
Igov blinked. "I hope you do not get such urges often."
Alex shook her head to clear it. "No... not really." She glanced at Igov from across the limousine seat, then faced forward again.
"Igov would like to thank you for offer of Christmas dinner, but if there is any imposition..." he trailed off, and Alex smiled.
"None at all. It will be nice to have someone intelligent to talk to during dinner for once. My family is SO boring. Really, cousin Tiro is the only interesting one, and even he's not much good for conversation." Alex explained.
"All is well then. Though Igov also wonders about the multitude of soldiers who run escort alongside us?" He looked dubiously out the tinted windows of the limo, glancing at the pickup trucks and motorcycles that ran alongside it, each transporting heavily armed terrorists.
Alex smiled again. "Call them... an insurance policy." Alex continued smiling smugly for a moment, imagining what she could do to her traitorous, goody-two-shoes sister.
Then she turned to her companion, her smile lessening somewhat. "Tell me Igov, are you married?"
The eyebrow over Igov's organic eye rose.
Alex smirked. "Oh, don't flatter yourself. I'm simply wondering. Though I must say, you are rather handsome for your age. Did you leave your family back in Russia?"
Igov stared at Alex for another moment, then straightened. "Igov left family, yes, but not wife. Llydia left me, as well as the rest of the living, several years ago."
Alex's smirk faded. "I'm sorry to hear that. Accident?"
"Political assassination." Igov spat. "Igov is Communist. Anarchy is nonsense pipe dream. There are other reasons to fight."
Alex rolled this over in her head for a moment. Come to think of it, it did seem a bit strange that Igov would fight for the FA's cause, considering his own beliefs. "Ah... do you still wear a wedding band? I've never seen you with your gloves off."
A sweatdrop rolled down Igov's head. "There are... complications. It is important, so I keep close to heart." He patted his chest for emphasis.
Alex nodded. "Inside your coat?"
"No. Igov had band implanted just under ribcage, above heart. It doubles as circuit switch; if heart ever weakens, internals will revive heart."
Alex sweatdropped heavily. "... I......... see."
Igov stared at her for a moment, and then sighed deeply, raising a hand to gently touch her cheek. "You remind me so much of her..."
Alex looked surprised. "Your wife?"
"No, daughter," Igov corrected swiftly. Seeing the sudden tension drain out of her, Igov dropped his hand. "Igov leave Nadia in Russia, at hands of same people that killed her mother. For that, Igov can never be forgiven."
Alex scoffed inwardly at that, but kept a somber outward appearance. After all, just because she would gun down her own family for the sake of her ideals didn't mean that she should interrupt Igov's sentimentality.
"You are... so much like my Nadia..." Igov sighed deeply, and then his lips pursed as he considered something. "Well, actually, Nadia is sweet, innocent girl with no sadistic or aggressive tendencies at all. But you look very much like her." Again, he stopped to look at her, and he frowned. "Well... Nadia is not so tall as you though. She is darker, really. And not so well-endowed." He coughed into his fist lightly as he finished the last sentence, then continued. "But... you give a very certain impression that-"
"I get the point," Alex deadpanned. Pining over abandoned family was all well and good, but he was starting to ramble. Igov looked embarrassed, and faced forward again.
Alex saw her father's house as the limo slowed next to the curb, and she again turned toward Igov. "Have you ever considered remarrying?"
Igov barked a short laugh, and Alex blinked. "Igov is no longer in any condition to love a woman, this I assure you."
Alex blinked again. "You're not THAT old. And like I said, you look pretty good for your age."
Igov raised his hand in front of him. "I meant what I said. I am in no condition to love." He flexed his fingers slowly, and Alex frowned. Now that the limo had stopped and there was no noise, she could hear a very faint, low-pitched buzzing sound.
'Almost like... a small motor, perhaps?'
The limo door opened, and a grizzled gunman with a cigarette in his mouth poked his head.
"Good call Tokima! The place is packed with soldiers, all armed to the teeth! Should we take 'em out?"
Alexandra ran a hand through her hair, and began to step out. "No, not yet. Try to avoid fighting if you can. Bloodstains are SO hard to get out of carpet, and shrapnel is hell on the wallpaper."
The man sweatdropped, but nodded, slinging the AK-47 over his shoulder. "You're the boss." Stopping to get an eyeful of his boss's cleavage, he straightened and yelled to the rest of the terrorists. "Keep weapons primed and ready, but return fire only! Keep the explosives steady! Let them shoot first!" He stepped out of the way, and Alex slid out of the limousine, straightening her dark red evening blouse and mini skirt before turning towards her parents' house.
Igov sweatdropped as he noted the two police choppers hovering overhead, their floodlights moving back and forth across the sparse group of armed criminals gathering before the front porch. He could see snipers crouching on the roof, and with his cybernetic eye, he could also detect numerous machine gunners set up in the garden.
"HOLD YOUR FIRE!!" A megaphone shouted from one of the choppers, "ALL TERRORIST FORCES ARE ORDERED TO DROP THEIR WEAPONS IMMEDIATELY AND SURRENDER!! ANY AND ALL AGRESSIVE ACTION WILL BE MET WITH LETHAL RESPONSE!!"
"That means they won't shoot first if we don't," Alexandra explained calmly, removing her thin wool gloves as she walked up onto the front porch. "Come on Yuchtzky. Obviously we're expected."
Sighing deeply, Igov gave a helpless shrug and followed his new commander into the house, trying to ignore the small red dots of laser sights that kept flitting over his chest.
__________________________________________________________________________________

Asuka sighed miserably as she approached the large home surrounded by plush gardens and exquisite stone lanterns. If it were any other residence, she would've stopped to admire such displays of affluence and wealth, but this was not an ordinary house.
This was the house she grew up in.
Walking up to the front door, she fumbled around in her pocket before finding the proper key, and slowly inserted it into the heavy lock that adorned the front entrance. Turning the key, a loud snapping noise rang out, telling her that the door was open.
Stepping through the front entrance, she was immediately assailed by a unique atmosphere of expensive incense that ineffectively masked the smell of marijuana and cigarette smoke. Ignoring it easily, she walked up to the main entrance of the house that lay just past the reception room she had entered. Two overly-burly men carrying poorly concealed, and totally illegal, handguns stood firmly at the entrance, grinning at her.
"You got an appointment?" One of them asked. "I'm afraid Mr. Takami 'aint seein' people right now. It's almost Christmas, ya know."
Asuka sighed. "I don't need an appointment. I'm his daughter. Let me through. This is enough of an ordeal without having to deal with dimwitted bouncers."
The two men glared at her, and one planted his hands on his hips. "You say you're with the family, huh? We'll see about that. But first, I'll take your gun." He began to reach for the gun handle at her hip, when she looked up at him with such a glare that his hand froze in place.
"You move that hand one millimeter closer to my gun, and you're gonna be dealing with the other end of it, nitwit." The hand twitched slightly, and the guard began to look less sure of himself.
His companion snarled. "I suggest you treat people with more RESPECT, lady. It's a dangerous world, and if you happen to piss off the wrong people, all sorts of nasty things could happen to you." He adjusted his ill-fitting suit a bit so that his gun was practically falling out of it. As if she hadn't seen it before.
Asuka's eyes narrowed. "Let. Me. Through."
The first man had managed to collect his meager wits about him, and scowled down at her. "I don't think your part of the family at all. You look more like a cop!"
"I AM a cop, dolt." Asuka deadpanned.
Both men tensed, their glares far more open. "We don't like cops snooping around here. Buzz off!"
"I'm NOT 'snooping around', I'm here to visit my family!" She growled.
The oversized idiot snorted. "Beat it, loser. If you wanna get through, you're gonna have to get through us, first."
Asuka's expression changed to one of complete and utter inward calm. And then, calmly, she raised one hand and opened it up, and calmly raised the other one in a fist. *Pap* Her fist calmly smacked into her palm, and both goons blinked.
*Smash!* *Thwack!* *Bam!* *Bam!*
"Ow! Hey! What the hell?! Augh!!"
*Wham!* *Smash!* *Slam!*
"Knock it off! Oh!! Uncle! Uncle!!"
*Pow!* *Thock!* *Bam!*
"Not there! Anywhere but there!!"
*Crunch!!* *Smash!* *Snap!*
"OH GOD!!! IT HURTS!!! PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP!!!"

Asuka stood over the two bruised and broken guards, dusting off her hands lightly. "I'd shoot you both, but to be honest, I'm in a much better mood now."
The main entrance opened suddenly, and a middle-aged woman poked her head out, frowning. Then she smiled when she caught sight of what was causing all the noise.
"Oh! Asuka! You're here! We were afraid you wouldn't make it!" The woman opened the door fully and entered the reception room, stepping over the insensate goons.
Asuka sighed. "Hello mother. Yes, I made it."
The tall, shapely woman walked up to her daughter and held her by the shoulders, meticulously going over every inch of her body.
Asuka withstood the interrogation silently as her mother let go of her, and then circled around.
Finally, the elder woman spoke. "You seem to be doing very well Asuka. But then, you must be in good shape to beat our doormen so easily. Please, come inside." She turned around and walked through the door herself, and Asuka slowly followed, hanging her head.
The guards groaned.
Asuka snapped her fingers suddenly. "Oh yeah! That reminds me!" She turned around and took the untouched handguns away from the two broken men lying on the floor.
"I'm confiscating these firearms. If I ever see either of you outside this house, I'll arrest you in the most violently brutal fashion I can manage. And I won't go easy on you like this time, either."
Both bodies twitched. Asuka nodded in satisfaction, then entered the living room after her mother.

She ignored the increasingly strong smells of intoxication as she followed her mother to the dining room. She ignored the faint white patches of substances that had been spilled and rubbed into the carpet. She ignored the many men lounging around the large house with automatic weapons at their feet, and the unhealthy-looking, scantily clad women some were fondling in their laps.
She even managed to ignore the gigantic poster on one wall portraying a cobra entwined in barbed wire.
Mrs. Takami opened up the double doors to the elaborate dining room and stepped inside, perfectly at home in the criminal atmosphere. "Dear, Asuka just arrived! Tell the cooks to start serving."
The large middle-aged man looked up from the papers he was going over, and smiled at his only daughter. "Why Asuka! It's been too long! Sit down, sit down!" He turned toward the kitchen. "Yo! Start bringing in the food!"
Mrs. Takami knelt down next to her husband, and looked over some of the papers he was signing. "Oh, dear, you should also get someone to take care of the reception guards. Asuka got a little frustrated with them."
The man's smile faded, and he sighed. "Great. More paperwork. No wonder those twits wanted a health plan."
Asuka calmly poured herself some tea from the pot in the center of the dining room table as she knelt down. "Well, they wouldn't let me in."
Her father nodded absently as he looked back down at some forms. "Damn, they'll have to get workman's comp too. They've always been incompetent, but at least they were easy to manage. Ever since they unionized, low-level thugs have been nothing but a pain."
"I know dear. Things will get better." Mrs. Takami moved behind her husband and started to knead his shoulders slowly. "How is the drug cartel doing, dear?"
"Not very good, I'm afraid. Police have been cracking down on the bigger suppliers in the Yakuza, and all these small-timers that keep popping up have no respect for the big picture. Every day we have to waste a new dealer that's encroaching on our territory."
He looked up at his daughter, who's left eye was twitching even as she sipped her tea calmly. "You wouldn't happen to know of any leads the police might have on the Yakuza rings, would you?"
Asuka set her tea down, then sighed. "Forget it Dad. You know the agreement: you mind your own business, and I'll mind mine."
He shrugged. "Ah well. No harm in trying."
"Hey! Look, it's the shrimp!"
"Hey little girl, you here to arrest Pop, or are you entertaining the troops?"
Asuka turned around to glare at her older and younger brothers as they entered the dining room, one after the other. The older one, Yaji, had blue hair like hers, and had many significant investments in the Yakuza. He was the smarter one. Kora, her younger brother, had black hair, and fancied himself an essential part of the Freedom's Angels movement that her father helped run. He was the stupid one.
"Now boys, don't tease your sister! I'm sure she went through a lot of trouble to get here without getting shot, and it's Christmas. Just for today, I want everyone to forget their occupations and to just eat dinner as a family." Mrs. Takami finished, looking over her children. Yaji and Kora dropped their heads.
"Yes Mom..." they said, and sat down at the table. Several servants began entering the room, carrying trays of food.
Asuka had quickly abandoned shooting dirty looks at her siblings, and silently waited for the food to be laid out. Her mind, however, was in turmoil.
'Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!! I can't believe I almost invited Ranma here! I can't let him see that these are my relatives! I'd never live it down! Hell, if he did come...' that line of thought trailed off, and an image suddenly appeared of the entire household littered with the unconscious bodies of beaten terrorists and criminals, with bullet holes spread across every wall, and her two brothers tied to the Christmas tree in the living room with strips of tinsel. 'Actually... that wouldn't be so bad at all...'
"So sis, how's life dancing to the music of the oppressor?" Kora asked conversationally.
"It's alright," Asuka answered absently. "We got a small budget cut because of collateral damage during all the mutant attacks, but the DAPC isn't suspended from duty any more." She stopped, then glared at her little brother. "Lord knows where you jerks keep getting all those mutants from. What's up with that, anyway?"
Mr. Takami shifted uncomfortably. "That's sensitive information honey. Like you said, let's not talk about business." The servants continued setting the table and setting out dishes, seemingly oblivious to the conversation.
"Let's talk about something more pleasant," Mrs. Takami suggested, and then smiled at her daughter. "Asuka, are you dating?"
Asuka groaned softly at the question, and desperately wished that they could go back to talking about their jobs despite the inherent conflict.
Yaji shook his head. "I think that's a 'no'."
Asuka grimaced, and her mother looked at her worriedly. "Honey, I really want you to find someone. It's nice that you're so independent.."
"Bitchy," Kora shot in just loud enough for everyone to hear.
Mrs. Takami continued as if he hadn't said anything. "But I can tell you're lonely. I want you to find someone to be with."
"Someone who you won't shoot in the crotch for touching you," Kora added.
"Don't give me any ideas," Asuka growled, and Kora gulped a little bit.
Mrs. Takami smiled. "If you're interested, I have the names of a few eligible-"
"Mother," Yaji interrupted, "on behalf of both Asuka and those 'eligible bachelors' of yours, I don't think there are any men you can set her up with that she wouldn't feel obligated to arrest."
She blinked. "Oh. Good point."
"I never thought I'd say this, but thank you Yaji," Asuka muttered. Glancing over to her other brother, her eyes narrowed. Kora was taking out a small paper fold with some white powder in it, and had a straw in his other hand.
"Give me that! No illegal drugs!" Asuka snatched the fold away, spilling a thin trail of powder onto the table.
"Hey! Stop! Give it back!" Kora tried to make a grab for his drugs, only to receive a foot to the face for his trouble. "Ow!! Mom, Asuka's confiscating stuff again!!"
She sighed as the last of the food was set on the table. "That's her job Kora, just stop fighting, please."
"I'll take the gun too!"
"No way! You leave my uzi alone!"
The two parents ignored their children's bickering, and Yaji quietly slipped the two pistols Asuka had already taken from the guards out of her pocket and into his while she was distracted.
Mr. Takami waited until the sake had been poured, then lifted his cup. "Well, let's start!"
"Excuse me #3," one of the servants (who had the standard FA tattoo clearly printed on his arm) interrupted, "but there's a call for you."
"Who is it?"
"He didn't give his name, but said he wanted to discuss Yuchtzky." He shrugged.
Mr. Takami raised an eyebrow, then smiled. "I don't know anyone by that name," he said, winking.
"Right. I'll tell him immediately." The man left, and the terrorist overlord raised his sake cup again.
"Ah, Christmas Eve! A night of festivities to cherish what we have, and celebration in the name of what we will have! A night for love, and family!"
"That means stop fighting," Mrs. Takami offered.
*Thock* "Ow! That really hurts!" Kora whined, lying on the ground.
"Good! Now shut up and behave!" Asuka jammed the uzi under her belt, then moved into a normal sitting position.
Mr. Takami nodded somewhat somberly. 'Figures the child with the most balls turns out to be my daughter. And a cop too. Yeesh.' "A toast then! To the success of the Freedom's Angels! And the creation of a just and free society!" Everyone smiled and raised their cups to the toast.
Well, almost everyone.
*Ahem* Asuka cleared her throat loudly, her arms crossed.
Her father blinked. "Oh. Hmmm... then how about: a toast! To the elimination of the Japanese government and an end to oppression!"
*Wham!* Asuka slammed a fist onto the table. "Can't we toast to something that doesn't involve the deaths of hundreds of people?" She growled out.
Her father stopped to consider this for a moment, and then brightened. "A toast! To greed, and the over commercialization of what was once an important and significant Christian holiday!"
Asuka blinked. "What the hell. I'll drink to that."
__________________________________________________________________________________

In a suburb in Houston, Texas, in the U.S.A., a very different kind of family gathering was going on.
{"Ken, m'boy! How you doing!"} The bearded man shouted, grabbing his brother up into a hug.
Snake smiled. {"Pretty good, Tom. It's been WILD down on the island!"}
His brother smiled heartily. {"Well, come on in and tell us all about it, man!"}
{"Call me Snake."}
{"I'll call you crazy, Ken! Get in here!"}

And so, after a lot of recapping and blonde jokes...

{"We were totally lost! So then we just keep running this huge path through the forest, when WHAM!!! All of a sudden Tycho sees Kyle about to get mashed by this weird Hulk clone or something! So he blasts it, but then another one starts coming up to him. So I just pull up right alongside and blast that one away! It was awesome!"}
{"Wa ha ha ha ha!! That's great! Kelly, come in and listen to this!"} Tom shouted into the kitchen, and a fairly tall woman wearing an apron came in, followed by two children that looked to be no more than 7.
{"Oh! Hello Ken! Tom didn't even tell me that you came in!"} She smiled politely, and then bowed to him, trying to act Japanese.
{"Good to see you Kelly, I..."} Snake trailed off, blinking as he watched the two little boys play cowboy.
{"Blam! Blam blam blam!"} One of them was retreating across the living room, shooting behind him with a gun-shaped wooden block.
{"Blam! Blam! I gotcha!"} The other was chasing the first, and carrying a real Desert Eagle .45 caliber pistol.
{"Wha... What is this?!"} Snake shouted. {"That's a real gun, isn't it?!"}
Tom blinked in confusion. {"Yeah... there's no ammo though..."}
Snake shook his head. {"That's not the point! You should know better than that! That's dangerous!"}
The couple stared at Snake, then at each other.
Snake shook his head sadly and grabbed the little boy's shoulder, kneeling down next to him and gently taking the gun from his hands.
{"Listen to me kid, this thing is real. You know that?"}
The boy blinked, confused, but nodded.
{"Now listen carefully, because this is important. See this little switch here?"}
The boy nodded again.
{"This is called a 'safety'. Right now, it's on. You never want to fire your gun with the safety on! If this was a real gunfight, you'd be dead by now!"} Snake flipped the safety off, and handed the gun back to the boy.
Tom and Kelly stared at him.
His brother was the first to speak. {"You're a complete psycho, you know that?"}
v Snake grinned. {"Well, I try to hide it best I can. Seriously though, if you're gonna give the kid a gun, at least make sure he can use it."}
Kelly sighed and walked back to the kitchen. {"Once a year. It's just once a year girl, you can do this."}
Tom shook his head. {"I can't believe you live in Japan. How can you survive in a place with strict gun control?")
Snake shrugged. {"It's a pain, I know, but having a job that pays me to shoot at things on the streets helps."}
Tom snorted. {"I'll bet. Personally, I'll just take the good ol' 2nd amendment any day."} He turned, and looked at the plaque across the room, proclaiming him vice-president of the National Rifle Association.
{"God bless America."}
__________________________________________________________________________________

"Hmmmm... this one's booked too. Shoot. I didn't think so many people would be in for Christmas. I gotta find a place to stay."
Ranma walked away from the hotel, rubbing his hands together as he walked. It was already dark out, and a light snowfall created a rather picturesque scene as icy flakes wafted through the streetlights. Cold, though.
A man in ragged coat walking in the other direction stumbled a bit and knocked into him, grabbing onto his shoulder to keep balance.
"Sorry about that! Excuse me!" He started scurrying away, only to have his legs swept under him and fall flat on the concrete walk, Ranma's wallet flying out of his hand and bouncing onto the ground.
Ranma calmly picked up the wallet, then grabbed the stuttering man by the collar and hauled him up.
"I-It was an ac-accident! Really! I s-swear!" Ranma gave him a flat stare, then flipped open his wallet to reveal his shield. The man stopped talking.
He took a few moments to look the trembling fellow over, then smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "Merry Christmas!"
The man blinked, and adopted a bewildered expression. "You're not gonna take me in?"
Ranma's smile didn't falter. "Nope!" Then he reared back his fist. *Wham!!*
Ignoring the sound of the pickpocket's body hitting the thin cushion of snow over hard concrete, Ranma turned around and began walking once more, slipping his wallet back in his pocket. "Stupid jerk."

Not seeing any more hotels in the immediate area, he made his way to a nearby phone booth, hoping to find one nearby with some vacancies.
Seeing that it was occupied, he stood outside, taking in his surroundings. Tokyo really was a beautiful city, and at night the lights and decorations that so many people had set up for Christmas made it all the more festive.
The person in the booth nodded twice, then hung the phone up. Then he turned around, opening the door to the booth.
Eye contact was made. Both parties' eyes widened.
"Wolf?"
"Saotome?!"
The German man gulped and backed into the booth once more, sweating suddenly. This was not good. He had been caught off-guard, and was in no position to fight.
Ranma blinked, then frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.
Steeling himself, Wolf slowly reached into his back pocket with his right hand and closed his fingers around a butterfly knife. At this range, it would be foolhardy to draw a gun, and Ranma was probably more effective without one anyway. If he could just get in one good cut, then he might be able to escape.
Wolf stood with his back pressed against the phone, waiting anxiously behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses.
Ranma stood impatiently with his arms crossed. After a few seconds of this, he started tapping his foot.
Wolf growled slightly. "Make your move."
Ranma blinked. "How? You're in the way."
Wolf's concentration shattered. "Huh?"
Ranma sighed in frustration. "Look, are you gonna make another call, or what? Other people need to use the phone too, ya know!"
*Thud!* Wolf hit the ground face-first, tumbling out of the booth in the process.
Ranma stared at him for a moment, then shrugged. "Whatever." Stepping over the German mercenary, he started thumbing through the phone book.
"Lessee... Hamiki? Nah. Yokoro? Not my first choice... ah, here we are! Let's see now..." Ranma picked up the phone and put in some money.
Wolf watched all this from his position on the ground, and began to slowly sneak away. After a few moments, however, it became clear that Ranma had forgotten all about him.
He scratched his head in confusion. Why wasn't this man doing anything?
His curiosity piqued, Wolf walked cautiously back to the booth.
"There are no rooms available at all? What? No, I won't pay for the boiler room! The garage? You're crazy!" Ranma hung up the phone angrily, then turned back to the phone book.
"Pardon me. Saotome?"
Ranma looked up at Wolf. "Yeah? What's up?"
The German gave him a curious look from behind his sunglasses, but his face remained neutral. "If you need a place to stay, I may know of something."
Ranma brightened immediately. "Really? All right! Thanks, man!" He hung up the phone, then hopped out of the booth. "So does this mean that we're cool?"
Wolf cocked his head to the side slightly. "Pardon?"
"You know, about... well, what you were trying to kill me over again?" Ranma scratched his head slightly.
Wolf stared at him for a moment. "Money. I was being paid."
Ranma nodded. "Yeah, that's it. So that's over now, right? We're cool?"
Wolf stared at him some more, then ripped off his sunglasses to make his incredulousness more apparent. "Aren't you... upset about that?"
Ranma shrugged. "Not really. That's one of the better reasons I've heard for wanting me dead."
More staring. "Well, if you're not going to arrest me, then no, there's no conflict anymore." Wolf slipped his shades back on, and began walking down the street. "You must lead an... interesting life, if an attempted assassination doesn't bother you."
Ranma snorted as he began to follow. "You could say that. How about you? What're you doing out here?"
"...... This and that."
Ranma glanced at him, then shrugged. "Whatever. This place nearby?"
"Yes. It's close." Wolf pulled his jacket tighter around himself, and wiped some frost off of his glasses. Then he felt Ranma tap him on the shoulder. "Yes?"
Ranma jabbed his thumb at a coffee shop. "I'm pretty cold. You wanna stop for some tea first? My treat."
Wolf slowly removed his glasses, and looked Ranma straight in the eyes. Then, ever so cautiously, he nodded.
__________________________________________________________________________________

"Well, isn't this just peachy," Tiro muttered sourly, swirling a bit of sake in a cup.
"Hmph. I wouldn't need to bring these bodyguards if there wasn't a military presence already here," Alexandra squatted before the large table calmly, her hands in her lap.
"Bodyguards? Ha! If I didn't have half of Tokyo's SWAT team here you'd gun us down without a second thought!" Mia protested somewhat bitterly before downing her entire cup of sake.
Igov shifted uncomfortably once again, and pulled the bottom of his coat out from under his legs. "Igov would do much for chair right now."
John Remerick snorted from across the table. "Live and learn, boy. You're in Japan now." Igov's organic eye narrowed at him.
Mr. Tokima sighed heavily as he sat at the head of the table. The fairly large room was split right down the middle with him at one end of the long dining table and Tiro at the other end.
On one side was Alex and Igov, with more than a dozen terrorists standing behind them, weapons armed and ready. Some of them had bombs attached to their waists in addition to carrying automatic rifles or grenades.
On the other side was Mia and John, similarly backed up by a squad of heavily armed police officers in full combat gear.
"Why don't you go home to your dirty little drug hole, scumbag!"
"Bite me, puppet! Tools of the oppressor! We'll wipe you all out!"
Tiro rolled his eyes. "Yeesh. 'Spirit of Christmas' indeed."
Mrs. Takami, an aged, but still striking woman in her late forties, entered the room wearily, carrying the turkey.
"Alexandra, dear, your evil minions are trying to trap the oven with some explosives. Could you tell them to stop please?" She sighed sadly, putting the turkey down. "Really honey, why did you have to bring all these men?"
Alex glared at her mother for a moment, then raised her head defiantly. "I notice that you don't criticize Mia for inviting these gun-toting government puppets into our home."
"Maybe that's because they don't have bombs strapped to them," Mia muttered none-too-quietly.
One of the terrorists looked down at the turkey and licked his lips. "Hey, that looks pretty good. Do you think I could-"
A SWAT member quickly shoved his rifle in the man's direction. "Back away from the bird, scum!! You wanna eat lead for dinner?!"
The terrorist growled and pointed his handgun. "You wanna piece of this, pig?! Bring it on! I dare you!!"
Mr. Takami groaned slightly as his wife finished setting dinner out.
"This looks real good Mom! You're gonna have to teach me to cook like this one of these days!" Offering a smile to her beleaguered mother, Mia started taking rice.
"It look delicious," Igov said appreciatively in his slightly broken Japanese. "Pardon, but would one officer get glass of water, please?"
*Ch-chunk!* "You want ice with that, slime?!" The man growled, his shotgun aimed straight for the Russian's head.
Igov blinked. "Yes, please."
"Crushed or cubed, you murderous bastard?!"
"Cubed, please." Igov said, sweatdropping.
The officer turned away and walked into the kitchen, coming back a moment later with a glass of ice water.
"Here's your water, you psychotic cyborg!" He slammed it on the table, and then got back in line with the rest of his squad.
"Er... thank you."
The seven people squatting at the table began to eat, and the tension between both groups of gunmen inadvertently rose.
After a few moments, John pointed to one of the criminals. "You, with the bandanna. Could you pass the bread rolls please?"
The man growled at the general and waved a grenade at him. "Get them yourself, tyrant!!"
John rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm getting real tired of this. My guy brought Yuchtzky his water, didn't he?"
"Screw you! Die!" The entire room gasped, and numerous guns were lifted in preparation to fire as the grenade was hurled toward the American.
*Bap!* "Ow!" John rubbed his head irritably, then looked down at the fragmentation explosive, noting that the pin was still in place. "Damn. It's true. You guys really don't know how to use your own weapons." Mia snorted as she tried to stifle a laugh, and many of the SWAT members started chuckling and pointing.
"Hey, shut up!" Another terrorist shouted, waving the muzzle of his AK-47, "You guys wanna die?!"
"Come off it! You'd probably end up shooting yourself!"
"Yeah! Do you guys even know which end of the gun to point at your opponent? Ha!"
"I'll bury you!"
"Keep it up pigs, and we'll blow you all to hell!"
Mrs. Tokima grimaced. "No, please, wait. Please, let's just calm down."
Alex snorted. "Oh, come now mother. You allowed this swine into our home. Aren't you prepared to pay the consequences?"
"How DARE you?!" Mia shouted, "You bring enough explosives in here to wipe us all out, and you have the gall to speak like that to our mother?!"
"Like you're one to talk! Those aren't news choppers hovering above us right now!"
"THAT'S ENOUGH!!!!"

Everyone in the room froze, and then slowly turned to face Tiro.
The man was slightly red in the face, and a vein was pulsing on the side of his head.
"Look at you people!! Bickering like this!! With guns and explosives aimed at each other!! What's wrong with all of you?!"
"I just-" Alex started.
"NO!!!" Tiro cut in, startling the terrorist mastermind out of her defense. "I don't want to hear it any more Alex! I've had absolutely enough of your anti-government, 'kill everyone that doesn't agree with me' attitude!!"
Mia smirked. "Well, I-"
"NO!!! No more from you either Mia!!" Mia flinched back in surprise.
Tiro glared at the groups on both sides of the table, then he let his gaze drop. "For pity's sake, it's CHRISTMAS! 'Peace on Earth and goodwill towards men'! Doesn't that mean ANYTHING to you?"
The assembled terrorists and officers starting shooting each other doubtful looks.
Tiro sighed, then shook his head. "Alex, look at these people," he said, gesturing to the SWAT squad. "They have families. What are they doing here? They're decked out in body armor, toting automatic weapons, and facing off against soldiers who want nothing more than to see them dead on CHRISTMAS, all in the name of duty. They should be at home with their own families, eating their own food. But instead they're here, jabbing guns at people from across a dinner table." The SWAT members looked at each other, and slowly started lowering their weapons sadly. One sniffed, and wiped a tear from his eye.
Alex looked hesitantly at the police officers, appearing a bit ashamed despite herself.
Tiro turned to his other cousin and gestured to the criminals against the wall.
"Mia. Look at these people. Some of them have families that still talk to them. And even if they don't, they probably knew of big parties they could attend where they could find cheap drugs and booze! But what are they doing now? They're tying bloody BOMBS to themselves and threatening to detonate them because they feel their cause is in danger. They don't belong here, Mia. They should be in dirty, seedy dens, getting high and getting laid. But instead they're here, threatening people from across a dinner table." The terrorists looked about at each other, and slowly lowered their own weapons. Many of them began scratching their waists, suddenly more aware of the dangerous explosives attached to them.
Mia's mouth opened to defend herself, but nothing came out. Closing her mouth, she lowered her head toward her plate.
Tiro's gaze swept the room. "Fellow officers! Unwashed gunmen! I beseech thee! Let us, for just one night, forget this bloody quarrel and join hands together in brotherhood! Can't we all just... get along?"
*Clack* One of the SWAT members dropped his automatic rifle. "I was supposed to be at home tonight. My son *Sniffle* was going to sing us a Christmas carol *Sniff* that he had memorized for choir."
*Bap* *Bump* Two grenades hit the floor after being dropped from leaden fingers. "I already missed visiting hours at the prison tonight. I promised *Sniffle* my brother that I'd sneak him in some dope. I was going to *Hiccup* t-tell him that we were making progress, and that he w-would *Sniffle* s-soon be free."
The two men looked at each other for a moment, and then burst into tears, running into each other's arms in a tearful embrace.
A smile slowly spread across Mrs. Tokima's face, matching the one that was already on Tiro's. All around her, soldiers were dropping their weapons onto the floor and disarming their explosives. "Thank you so much, Tiro. Now, I think I have enough food for everyone, if some of you don't mind eating instant ramen."
One terrorist chuckled. "Heh. Don't eat 'nothing else."
A SWAT member smiled. "Ha! Neither do I!"
The two men looked at each other for a moment, then laughed out loud.
And as conversations started amongst the different combat groups, Tiro sat back down, contentment spread across his features. "God bless us. Every one."
__________________________________________________________________________________

Ranma sipped his tea contently, feeling the liquid warmth wash down his throat and into his stomach. Sighing happily, he put down his cup, then looked up into the stony, concealed image of his companion.
"So, what's up? You're not still killing people for money, are you?"
Wolf frowned. "No. No, I'm not. I'm earning some money acting as a bodyguard for some... less than reputable people."
Ranma frowned. "Hey man, why do you do that sort of stuff? I mean, it seems to me you're not really that bad a guy. I can tell."
Wolf snorted, but smiled. "There is some wisdom in watching for a 'wolf in sheep's clothing'."
Ranma snorted in return. "You 'aint dressed like no sheep."
The German shrugged. "True enough. I don't like the work much either, but unfortunately, my talents aren't exactly in high demand in the civil, law-abiding sector of Japan. There are other things I could do, I'm sure, but I need the money."
Ranma raised an eyebrow.
Wolf frowned again, then took a sip from his tea. "It's not for me, either. I have two sisters back in Berlin who cannot support themselves easily, and I send them as much money as I can spare each year." He took another sip of his tea, then set it back on the small table. "Unfortunately, I have not done so well this year." He smirked. "For the first time, I've failed to eliminate a target."
Ranma chuckled nervously and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah. Sorry about that. Well, sort of." He put his hand down, and noticed that Wolf wasn't looking at him any more, but staring into space (though it was hard to tell when he had his shades on).
"Every year, at this time, I always remember..."
Ranma blinked. "Remember what?"
Wolf sighed. "When I was young, me and my family lived in the half of Berlin controlled by the Soviet Union. The Soviets had ruined our city, and the rich were driven out into the streets while the poor found themselves barely able to support themselves, much less become affluent. My father had been the son of a rich nobleman before Hitler's Third Reich fell to pieces around him, and the Soviets killed my grandfather before forcing my father out of his estate."
Ranma blinked at the beginning of what seemed to be a long story, and pushed his tea aside.
"When the Berlin wall fell, my father was ecstatic. Ever since, he had been trying to regain nobility, but inevitably failed. He was a nobleman, used to having things handed to him, and then used to being given a task without any chance for improvement or advancement. He didn't adapt so well to earning wealth. However, he was obsessed with becoming rich, and soon convinced my mother as well of its necessity. But she was no more adept at business than he was. So, other measures had to be taken." Wolf's voice took on a bitter note, and Ranma blinked.
"Okay... so, what does this have to do with Christmas?"
Wolf sighed, and slowly took off his glasses, once more staring into space. "It was the day before Christmas Eve that my youngest sister, Katrina, was to meet her betrothed. A nobleman, of course, and one that my mother had taken much time and effort to reach. She had wanted to engage the older of my younger sisters, Arial, but the young man had taken a 'special interest' in Katrina particularly." A bit of anger entered his voice, and Ranma leaned in a little closer.
"Katrina was a fragile thing, born weak and sickly, but with a gentle beauty and love of life that made others envy her despite their good health. Arial escorted Katrina to the mansion that night. And before the night was over, she had carried Katrina back to our house, crying." Wolf stared down at the tacky colored tile of the coffee shop, and his entire body shook slightly.
"That... that monster had been quick with introductions, and even quicker to carry away Katrina to his room. Arial had said that she heard him yelling at Katrina from his bedroom, and when she had entered the room herself, she had seen him strike Katrina repeatedly, yelling about obedience and gratitude. He had tried to force himself on her, and was apparently displeased when she resisted as much as she could. Arial carried her back in sobs, and immediately asked me to beat the man."
Ranma was totally engrossed in the story now, and let his forgotten teacup grow cold on the edge of the table.
"My parents... they did not react well. My father simply erupted in anger. Anger at the young man. Anger at Katrina. Anger at Arial and the Soviets and Germany and whatever other forces seemed to have a hand in keeping him in poverty. My mother was more coherent in her concern, and tearfully begged Katrina to give the boy another chance, to try and get the marriage to work. Arial was furious."
"Were you?" Ranma interrupted.
Wolf was startled out of his story, as if remembering that there was someone else there. He blinked a few times, then looked away again, looking a little less sure of himself.
"I did not react much. I wasn't sure how to. I merely stood there, listening to father's rants, mother's pleas, Arial's yells, and Katrina's quiet sobs. Then he arrived."
Wolf looked back at Ranma, scratching his chin. "The young nobleman came to apologize for his actions, and offered to take Katrina back. However, he also requested an apology from Katrina, for defying him so openly and causing such a disturbance in his home."
His expression darkened. "Mother and father were all gracious smiles for the young man, and quickly agreed that Katrina should apologize and everything would be fine. Arial looked at the scene horrified, and screamed at our parents to stop what they were doing."
Sighing deeply, the mercenary rested an elbow on the small table and propped his head on it. "In the end, it was me who Katrina fled to, holding my arm and staring at the man with fear. He walked up to me calmly enough, and asked to have his bride back."
"What'd you do?" Ranma asked.
Wolf sat up again. "I broke his arm."
Ranma blinked.
"And then, as he lay on the ground shrieking in pain, I told him this: if he ever spoke to my family again, I would break his other arm. If he spoke to Katrina in particular, then I would break both his legs. And if he ever touched Katrina again... I would kill him."
Ranma whistled. "Wow. That's pretty rough."
Wolf shrugged. "On Christmas Eve, I waited atop a neighbor's roof, practicing with my throwing knives. I knew that the man would see me jailed, or worse, for what I did. However, he did not heed my warning."
He took a butterfly knife out of his pocket, and twirled it around in his hand, flipping it open to bare the stainless steel blade. "With bodyguards at his back, the nobleman entered my home with his arm in a cast, yelling about how he had come to claim his wife. Arial tried to drive him away, but my parents held her back, afraid for her safety. He found Katrina, dictated when she would return to his estate, and when they would begin planning the wedding. When she refused him, he grabbed her by the arm..."
Ranma leaned over the table a bit, hanging onto every word.
"Then he stopped. I could see it all, as I was looking straight into the room. He stopped, shuddering, as if death itself had touched him, and snatched his hand away from my sister. And then, as if just realizing what he had done, and what the consequences would be, he left the house without further pursuing the matter."
Wolf flipped the knife closed in his hand. "That man was found dead on Christmas day in a ditch, with all four limbs broken. Out of respect for his grave, as well as fairly obvious legal reasons, I will not speak his name."
Ranma stared at the man before him, a bit overwhelmed. "Dang... I don't think they're gonna make a song out of that one."
Wolf snorted. 'Why did I just tell him this?' He thought. 'It was good to have someone to talk to, but why this man?'
Ranma tapped his tea cup. "Well, the tea's cold. How about we get to this hotel you were talking about?"
The German stared at Ranma for a moment, his green eyes searching Ranma's blue ones. Then he got up, slipping his sunglasses back on. "Yes. Let's go."
__________________________________________________________________________________

"Ah, this is nice, isn't it dear? Having the family all together again?"
#3 nodded and held his wife close as they watched over their children. "Yeah. Remember when they were little? Every Christmas Asuka and Kora would start fighting over toys, and Yaji would end up taking them all after they fought themselves into exhaustion?" Mrs. Takami nodded, giggling.
"Damn it Asuka! Give me back my uzi!" Kora dove for his sister, who kicked him in the stomach at his approach.
"No way! Shut up and back off or I'll arrest you!"
Behind the pair of fighting siblings, Yaji knelt by the tree, cleaning the two confiscated handguns that he'd stolen before dinner.
"Well, thank God that's all changed," Mr. Takami deadpanned.
*Whack!* *Pow!* Asuka yelped as her little brother managed to punch her in the shoulder, then growled fiercely. "That does it!!" *Wham!* Before Kora could decide whether to fight or flee, Asuka hit him with a hammer fist to the shoulder, and tackled him onto the ground. *Click*
Kora's eyes widened as he realized there was now a pair of handcuffs around his wrists. "MOM!!! Asuka's arresting me!!"
"Asuka, I know your brother has a warrant out for him, but could you please let him out of the handcuffs?"
Yaji chuckled as he heard the exchange, but didn't turn around. Kora could take care of himself. And even if he couldn't, that was no concern of his.
*C-click!* His eyes widened as he felt cold metal press into the back of his neck.
"Brother dear, would you hand me those illegal weapons before I end up spraying that wonderful brain you were gifted with all over the living room? Please?"
Beads of sweat poured down Yaji's brow, and he gulped loudly, sliding the weapons across the ground to his little sister.
"Well... okay, so this part is kind of different," Mr. Takami admitted.
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"-TWO TURTLEDOVES, AND A PARTRIIIIIIIIIDGGGGGGGGGE IN A PEEEEEEEEAR TREEEEEEEEE!!!" Igov and John collapsed in chuckles as their breath ran out, falling onto the large couch in the living room of the Tokima estate.
John snickered. "That accent is pretty bad, you know? You're a terrible singer!"
Igov laughed heartily. "At least Igov has accent to blame! What is your excuse?"

Across the room, terrorists and police officers were chatting amongst each other, drinking eggnog and eating cookies (which had been baked by the same two terrorists who had rigged the oven to blow).
Mrs. Tokima was seated next to Tiro, and lamenting over his marital status while giving him an endless stream of advice on women and relationships. Ironically, Tiro was handling the situation with far less grace than he had the previous scenario at dinner.

Alexandra looked across the room at her twin, considering. Then, taking a deep breath to steel herself, she walked stiffly to the other side of the room, a thin, wrapped package under her arm.
"Mia..." Mia turned to face her terrorist counterpart, and blinked when she saw that Alex was holding a package out to her.
"I... I wasn't going to give this to you... but I prepared it just in case..." though she tried to look nonchalant while saying it, Mia was touched to see some small measure of actual sentimentality seep through her iron facade.
Tearing open the package, it turned out to be a manila folder. Mia opened it up, and her eyes widened at what she saw.
"This is incredible! A complete file on #2! And enough evidence to put him away for good! Alex! I... I don't know what to say..."
"SAY that you won't reveal the source of this information," Alex spat bitterly. "Treason for the sake of giving! Bah! I should've just..." she trailed off as Mia took a small, thin package out of her pocket and held it out to her, smiling faintly.
Alexandra took the present curiously, then ripped it open to reveal a Christmas card, with a small plastic card inside, along with a note.
She gasped. "This... this is the location, access code, and key card to the West Tokyo ammo dump! This will save our forces millions!"
Mia shrugged uncomfortably. "Well, I mean, it's nothing special. Hell, we mostly stock it with stuff we pick up from you guys after raids and whatnot, but it's something, I guess."
She blinked as she realized that Alex was smiling at her. Not smirking, or smiling in that licentious "Queen seductress" way, but just smiling.
She smiled back. "Merry Christmas Alex."
"You too, Mia. You too."
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"Hey Sakura, you out here?" Kyle closed the sliding glass door behind him as he walked out onto the back patio, seeing his sister leaning against the wall of the house.
"Hmm. It's so pretty, don't you think?" Kyle looked out toward the city as she was doing, and smiled softly. The lights may have blinded them to the stars, but the city itself was sight to behold.
Sakura sighed. "I wish Ranma was here. I wonder what he's doing right now."
Kyle shrugged and leaned up against the house next to Sakura. "Got me. Probably just sleeping in some little hotel somewhere. Personally, I'm more interested in what Tiro's doing."
Sakura shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't seen any huge explosions, so it can't be that bad."
Kyle chuckled. "Well, I'd like to think that just for one day, this day, two people who hate each other can meet and eat a meal without blowing something up."
Sakura smiled and leaned against her brother's arm. "That is a nice thought."
She continued watching the city, when suddenly her eyes widened. "Omigosh!! Look at that!!"
Kyle blinked. "What? Where? I don't see... huh?"
Amidst the bright lights of the city, a speedy shape passed before the shining windows of the skyscrapers. It was hard to make out at their distance and with it being so dark, but Kyle could swear that the shape looked like some kind of big sled, with a bunch of little animals racing in front of it in midair.
"Oh wow! I can't believe it!" Sakura cried, jumping up and down.
"Well I'll be damned..." Kyle scratched his head, then blinked as a particularly bright red light flashed from somewhere in-between the skyscrapers.
"Huh? What's that? Isn't that where headquarters is?" Kyle asked.
Sakura ignored him, eyes alight with wonder. "I can't believe it's really him!"
*Fwoosh!* The light of a rocket engine being fired shined through the darkness of Tokyo before the sound reached them, and a bright streak curved upward toward the speedy sleigh, impacting with lethal accuracy.
A flash of light lit the city for a moment, and the two siblings stared as the sound of a SAM detonation reached their ears, like the explosion of a firework being shot from a distant locale.
Sakura's eyes grew wide as dinner plates. "OH MY GOD!!! SNAKE BLEW UP SANTA!!! WAAAAAAAAAH!!!" Sakura rushed inside the house.
Kyle, for his part, sweatdropped heavily as the distant sounds of objects (probably reindeer) being knocked through skyscraper windows reverberated throughout the mighty city.
"Hmmmm... this is even worse than that whole Easter Bunny massacre." Shaking his head sadly, Kyle walked back inside his house.
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Yoshi frowned as a bright flash illuminated the window, and glanced at the window curiously.
"Hmm... weather report didn't say anything about lightning. Blasted meteorologists, never could do their jobs right."
Pressing a button, a hatch on the floor slid open, and a large holding tank filled with fluid and a humanoid-shaped organism slid up, locking in place once the tube reached the ceiling.
Yoshi grinned. "Well, it's not exactly Christ, but we all have to start somewhere, right?"
Laughing at his own little joke, Yoshi took the vial he had left out earlier, and poured some of its contents into a small dish.
Then he grabbed a bottle of wine, popped the cork, and took a swig of it. "To creation, and the overthrowing of dead gods! And a merry Christmas to all!" Laughing once more to himself, he put the bottle down, and began to work.
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The priest yawned mightily as he stood at the altar, before shaking his head and returning to his study. He was a hard-working man, if not easily distracted, and was intent on keeping the church open all night if need be.
There were only two people in the church, a poor-looking couple who were huddling together to escape the night's cold and give their prayers to God. Good people.
*Rrrrk!* The heavy doors of the main entrance opened, and the priest looked up from his bible. Ah, another one. This one didn't look all that cold, though his trench coat was peppered with snow, nor did he look like he wouldn't have anything else to do on Christmas Eve. Big man, carrying a large bundle over his shoulder, with a fairly obvious gold cross around his neck.
*Thump!* The bundle he carried hit the floor, startling the couple out of their meditations and drawing their attention. The man didn't notice or care.
Few thoughts ran through his head as he walked down the aisle and took a seat on a bench. He had tried the number, but had been dismissed. He may have to pay this '#3' a visit, though he figured it would do little good. He had a feeling he was looking in the wrong direction. A longer, more patient search may be called for.
These thoughts as well were banished from his mind as he took a seat and put his palms together.
'My Lord,' he thought, 'on this most holy of days, I have once again come to you to beg your forgiveness. Once more, I have sinned, and must continue to do so as I purge those who would defile the innocent. This I must do. I have naught to offer you but my immortal soul, black as it is with murder and violence. Yet, all I can do is ask your forgiveness, and seek redemption. Ahmen.'
Standing up abruptly, he walked to the collection dish at the front of the church and deposited 1000 yen.
The priest smiled kindly at him. "God bless you."
The man didn't smile in return. "More that I deserve, I assure you. Good day."
Leaving the priest with a confused expression on his face, the Russian gunman hefted his bundle onto his shoulder once more, and exited the church.
"Igov... you will pay for your sins. I swear it!"
__________________________________________________________________________________

Wolf snapped his blade open as he looked down at Ranma's sleeping form, laying haphazardly on the floor of the small room he had rented for the night.
This 'hotel' was reserved for those with Yakuza connections only, though Ranma didn't know that, and probably never would.
Looking down at Saotome's sleeping form, Wolf wondered how someone so powerful could be so carefree. So casual. So... well... open. Did he not feel the weight of his power? Had he somehow transcended having responsibility for his actions? Or did he simply have nothing to feel responsible for?
"Ranma Saotome..." Calvin mumbled. "I am a fool. I've said so much about me, and yet, of you I know so little. What are your secrets? What makes you fight? What makes you protect, rather than attack?"
He looked around Ranma's snoring form a bit, then noticed a worn white square next to his body. Cautiously, he leaned down and turned it over, finding that it was a photograph.
It was a rather odd one, consisting of Ranma, though looking a little younger, being hugged suggestively by two beautiful teenage girls. There was an assortment of other characters, including some that were very strange looking in nature, but there was one in particular that stood out. Not that the girl with short black hair was remarkable in any way, but rather the order of the photograph. Though she was off to the side, her part of the picture was clearly ripped through the head, though it was also obvious that the rip had been closed a number of times to complete the image of the girl. While the rest of the photo, including Ranma's part, was fairly worn, that part was mostly smooth, indicating that care had been taken not to touch or cover up that part of the photograph when looking at it (with the exception of the tear).
Wolf looked up from the photo to stare at Ranma's sleeping form, then back down at the photo.
*Shick!* Flipping his knife closed, Wolf let the photo fall to the floor, with Akane Tendo's likeness sliced out and missing.
"Sleep well, Saotome. We will meet again..." And with that, Calvin Asmodeus left the room.

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Soldiers capped: 30

End Chapter 10
Merry Christmas!