Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Cop Story ❯ Dressing Up and Down ( Chapter 25 )

Disclaimer- The characters contained within do not belong to me. Strange, I don't feel any better letting you know that…

A Cop Story

Part Twenty Five

By RM

Dressing Up and Down

Blue, green, red and yellow. Big hands and little hands alike lined the hallway as they made their way towards the main office. They had all been anticipating this assignment, each one for different reasons. Krillin saw it as a change from his usual midnight shift, Goku saw it as a way to interact with the community, and Vegeta saw it as a complete waste of time.

Their badges gleamed brightly in the fluorescent lighting as they squeaked into the main office of school #89. The office wasn't huge, but it was big enough. On the far wall, small wooden boxes were built into the structure, nameplates adorned the area below each one. There were several office clerks working behind the long reception counter, their desks situated by the row of windows that faced a rather drab brick wall. There were also a few places to sit and wait and a couple of potted plants that gave the place a friendly, more lived in feel. The seats were not totally empty however, as the three officers discovered they were not the first to arrive.

"Hey Zarbon!" Goku greeted cheerfully, managing to be enthusiastic and hushed at the same time.

Zarbon smiled back at Goku, nodded at Krillin, and shot a dirty look at Vegeta, who simply scowled back. "I'm waiting to see the principal so that we can set this up and get on with it."

At this comment Vegeta nodded in agreement. Finally, someone who could see it his way.

"Waiting to see the principal, huh?" Goku questioned with a slightly surprised expression. "I hope you didn't do something too serious this time. Although at your age, I didn't think they'd send you in to see the principal."

Krillin chuckled at Goku's honest remark, surprised himself when Zarbon made no snotty reply.

"We're early," Zarbon shrugged, "but I'm sure that if we're all very still and quiet, the rest of our group will be here shortly."

"OK," Goku whispered as he stood as still as he could, moving only his eyes as he peered around the room.

Vegeta rolled his eyes and snorted, sitting one seat over from Zarbon, arms crossed. Krillin decided that perhaps now would be a good time to play with his watch. After all, it was a gift, it had a stopwatch, and it would be a good distraction as to why he wouldn't have to pay attention to Zarbon and Vegeta, although he had that distinct feeling that neither one of them would pay him any attention in return.

As they were waiting, a young boy around the age of seven walked through the door to the office, carrying a small, clear plastic box with greenish-yellow grass clustered on the bottom. A young woman guided him in, smiling at the officers standing at the counter, ushering the boy to take a seat in-between the exotic looking Lieutenant and the grumpy, neatly polished officer with black, spiky hair.

The boy took the seat quickly and quietly, his face pallid as he glanced nervously from officer to officer. He surmised he was in trouble from the get-go. He just hadn't imagined it would have led to THIS much trouble.

The door opened once again, the attention shifting to another familiar face as the greeting was offered.

"Hey, hey, little brother!" Raditz stated, closing the frosted glass door behind him. Goku tried to shush his brother's booming voice while at the same time not move too many muscles. Although his body remained still, his eyebrows managed to do a lot of work, and the overall effect served to loosen the young boy's mood as he sat in the rigid, wooden chair. He began to giggle and his feet started swaying back and forth as they dangled a foot above the highly waxed floor.

Vegeta stared straight ahead, doing his best not to smack the young boy sitting next to him as he giggled like a girl. In his opinion, children had no place in the royal presence, and in addition, no place in society as a whole. At least, no redeeming place.

They waited patiently for the other members of their troupe to arrive, Goku and Raditz happily chatting away with one of the office secretaries in hushed tones while Vegeta and Zarbon sat silently. The little boy continued to look from Vegeta to Zarbon and back again, squirming every now and then until, after a short time, his curiosity finally won out.

"Have you ever kissed a lizard?" He asked Zarbon candidly, holding up the small, plastic container, pointing out the small gecko sitting within, biding his time.

Zarbon blinked as he stared down at the child with thick glasses, a very pronounced lisp, and a broad inquisitive smile. He used to kiss that overactive, midget lizard's ass on a daily basis. Just what was this kid getting at?

He momentarily frowned at the distasteful memory. Those had been some pretty harsh years and ones, more often than not, he had at times not been too proud of. Dismissing that the child could possibly have any knowledge of his years of service to that sick, miserable, little worm, he prepared to make a reply when he heard barely contained snorts originating from the other overactive midget sitting on the opposite side of the boy.

Vegeta was doing his best at trying not to comment on the question raised by the brat in the chair. He was finding it extremely difficult to contain his amusement at the brief look of alarm that crossed Zarbon's otherwise normally composed features. The years of training and discipline skittered out of the window as he realized that one little human brat had effectively done what he himself hadn't been able to do for several years.

Zarbon narrowed his eyes at Vegeta, answering the boy without breaking his gaze. "Vegeta could probably tell you a thing or two about that."

The Saiyan prince's head snapped around, black eyes locking on gold. He gracefully yet purposefully reached over to the Lieutenant, grabbing the collar of his uniform and twisting, pulling his upper body over the small child's head. The little boy made no sound, but it would have been quite obvious to anyone paying attention that he was scared to death.

"I might have been his pet," Vegeta ground out with some effort through clenched teeth, "but I was never his girlfriend."

Vegeta practically threw Zarbon back into the chair and the situation between them held that electrifying edginess that promised something rather unpleasant. The silence that followed was suddenly shattered as a throat cleared from one of the doorways off of the main office. Both aliens looked at each other accusingly, exchanging shifty, nervous glances as if that throat had caught them doing something naughty. The child who sat between them swallowed hard and tried to smile.

"The principal will see you now."

*****

The sight of a Namek was enough to cause a little bit of confusion. The sight of two Nameks was enough to cause a controversy. Nevertheless, they pushed through the front door of Garlic City Pizzeria, in all of their tall, green and most importantly, civic-minded, official capacitied glory.

They had gone through all of the paperwork. Twice. Everything looked legal, and everything had been made out to some guy named Garlic Jr. The property, the business, the permits…everything. At least in that aspect, things had been made easy. They had but one fish to fry, and from the looks of it, if the short, bald, unkempt creature standing next to the cash register were any indications, the pan wouldn't have to be very big.

"Garlic Jr.?" Piccolo asked the question as he straightened his rather restrictive tie.

The figure standing behind the counter froze momentarily, almost losing his balance on the step stool he was using to actually see over the register. He looked frazzled, and more importantly, he looked unstable. And it wasn't due to the step stool.

"Yes?" The reply was squeaked out rather pensively as two beady, little eyes looked from big, imposing, green man to slightly less big, imposing, green man.

"We're here for a routine health department inspection," Piccolo stated this time, almost not believing his own tone. "May we?"

Garlic Jr. licked his lips as he considered the two beings standing in front of him. There was something odd about them. Something that he couldn't quite place. Something that he didn't quite trust. Things had really taken a turn for the worse when Pilaf had disappeared two months ago. Garlic Jr. had no idea where the ungrateful louse had gone, and he had pretty much known the split was for good when he noticed that Pilaf had gone through some of the old boxes in the back office.

He had taken his CD with him.

Still, if the ingrate had wanted to leave when they were so close to world domination, so be it! He wouldn't have to share a thing with that pathetic dud. Not one damned thing!

Piccolo cleared his throat and shot Kami a calculating glance. The way he figured it, there was some kind of conversation going on in that head on Garlic Jr's shoulders. One that he and Kami had not been invited to.

"Excuse me?" Piccolo prodded, a little annoyed at being held up any longer than necessary. "This will only take a moment." He added, holding up his badge while Kami presented the proper paperwork for little one's benefit. Piccolo watched Garlic's dark expression at the same time he craned his neck to peer through the doorway leading into the kitchen. It was mid-morning and there seemed to be absolutely no activity in the back rooms of the premises. Kami stood at the front counter reviewing the legal documentation with the owner. Piccolo frowned in disgust as he caught sight and stench of the back room. Although his sense of smell wasn't as keen as his sense of sight or hearing, it didn't exactly take a beagle to catch the reek of vileness coming from the kitchen. He shot a dark look at the diminutive thing standing on the step stool, taking note of the hollow stare he was receiving in return.

He knew they were there to shut him down, Piccolo was certain. He could only hope that things wouldn't get ugly.

*****

One stood with his arms crossed over his chest, the other stood grinning from ear to ear. The teacher, an attractive woman in her late forties, eyed both officers appreciatively as they stood in the colorfully painted hallway outside of the classroom.

"The children are so very excited about meeting you," she smiled happily, her soft, meek voice fitting in perfectly for the kindergarten wing. "We have four different classes inside. Have either of you worked with children before?"

"Oh yeah!" Goku stated enthusiastically as he slapped his partner forcefully on the back. "Vegeta's great with kids!"

"Kakarott," Vegeta hissed quietly. "You know very well that I cannot…"

"…wait to get inside!" Goku interrupted, pushing Vegeta through the doorway and into the room. Vegeta practically froze as he caught sight of exactly one hundred and seven expectant, anxious little faces, some smiling, some whispering and more than half of them giggling.

"Class?" The teacher questioned towards the children, trying to get their attention, which appeared to be directed solely on the two officers. She momentarily hesitated as she realized that she hadn't asked the men's names. She waited a few seconds for the classroom of children to settle down, suddenly remembering that the two officers had used each other's names in the hallway. "This is Mr. Vegeta."

"Good-Morn-ing-Mis-ter-Ve-ge-ta!" The class chimed out in unison, their shrill, happy little voices conveying youth and energy.

"And this is Mr. Kakarott," the teacher introduced Goku as Vegeta aimed an amused smirk at the taller Saiyan.

"Good-Morn-ing-Mis-ter-Ka-ka-rott!" Both Saiyans winced slightly at the sheer volume exerted by the group of high-pitched voices.

"The children are very excited to have you here with them today," the teacher stated as several giggles erupted from around the room. "We've put together some questions for you as the children are very curious as to what you do as police officers, and what brought you to work here in our city."

Vegeta's smirk became more pronounced as Goku smiled broadly, giving a slight, nervous chuckle. This time it was Vegeta's turn to slap Goku on the back.

"Yes Kakarott, be sure not to leave anything out," Vegeta stated quietly with a slight edge to his voice.

"Um…OK," Goku peered around himself intently, a little unsure of the situation, "but I really don't think the kids want to hear about the time you swallowed those explosives and then managed to…"

"No," Vegeta interrupted hastily, remembering the episode more than he cared to admit, "I am sure they do not." It had been an honest mistake. That damn plastique had an oddly appealing odor.

The children began to giggle as Goku himself managed to chuckle at Vegeta's abruptness. The Saiyan prince glared down at the room full of small children, thinking how much more fun it would be to just waste them all, but knowing full well that while it would definitely be a good time, it wasn't much of a challenge.

"Knock, knock," a calm, smooth voice sounded from the open doorway. "I hope I am not interrupting anything."

The three adults present turned to see a man with haunting blue eyes carefully watching them.

"Hi #17," Goku greeted the investigator. "Gee, I didn't think Captain Roshi had the investigators come on this assignment with us."

"He didn't," #17 shrugged. "I'm here to collect Vegeta. There has been another …situation that requires his specific expertise. I hope the children will not be too disappointed." #17 smiled warmly at the teacher, who seemed a bit dazed by his appearance. His eyes were so cold yet his smile seemed quietly cheerful. The overall effect was a bit creepy. "I brought a replacement for him. I am sure the children will be more than happy to meet with him."

#16 walked in past the others and stood gazing quietly about the room. The chatter and giggling died down suddenly as little necks craned and stretched to stare up at the imposing officer towering over them. The teacher looked around nervously. The man was absolutely huge. With men like this on the police force, she couldn't imagine how the crime rate even had the chance to rise.

"He's absolutely wonderful with children," #17 stated as he nodded at Vegeta. It actually wasn't a lie. #16 had a knack with small animals and children.

Goku waved good-bye to his friends as they quickly vacated the kindergarten wing, then suddenly and cheerfully turned back to the task at hand.

"OK!" He announced with his big, goofy grin as he rubbed his hands together, "who wants to go first?"

*****

"Please! Not the taffeta!" Bulma begged as a very fluffy, very bright, very green, and very gaudy dress was tossed over the fitting room door.

"Is this some kind of sick joke?" #18's quiet, muffled comment was heard from the adjoining stall.

"Oh stop whining!" Chi Chi protested. "When you get married, you can wear whatever you want to. This is MY wedding. I get to pick!" She finished with a very satisfied smile, picturing the looks of absolute horror on the other women's faces. She wasn't about to tell them that she had no intention of having them wear any of the dresses she was making them try on. This was just all part of the fun of shopping for bridesmaids' dresses.

"Wow!" Launch gushed from her dressing room before flinging open the door and spinning around in the dress Chi Chi had given her to try on for size. It was bright pink, overdone with bows and frills. "They're all beautiful dresses!"

Chi Chi frowned as she watched Launch twirl around, modeling the rather exorbitant frock. She knew that Launch was the type of person that could make lemonade out of rotten avocados, but did she really have to be so positive all of the time?

Another fitting room door opened and #18 stepped out. She was outfitted in a different style dress than Launch, although the overall effect was the same. Her dress was light orange with feather and faux pearl trim. The material was light and airy, falling to the floor with a loose sway. And it was definitely something she would rather be caught dead in.

"I can see you feel the same way I do about this," #18 stated as she caught sight of the slight frown on Chi Chi's face. "Have you seen enough? Are you done with me now?"

"You look nice!" Launch smiled at #18. "Isn't this pink one just heavenly?"

"Hurry up in there," #18 knocked on the fitting room door Bulma was behind.

"I don't think it fits," Bulma managed out after a few moments. "Perhaps I should try on another? Preferably not taffeta?"

"Get out here before I beat down that door!" #18 stated in a low, strained voice. She was trying to be polite about the whole affair and all things considered, she was doing a pretty good job.

The door opened and Bulma stepped out, looking only slightly amused and a whole lot less comfortable. Her dress was a bright green, almost lime number, with big puffy sleeves and a short, extremely puffy skirt below the tight bodice. The puffs were pleated, and the bodice had small, sparkling, puce designs, which created an overall frightening display of color contrasts. Chi Chi and #18 had a hard time containing their amusement at their friend's obvious discomfort. Even Launch grimaced slightly at the scene.

"Oh Chi," #18 finally laughed. "You can't be serious!"

"Well," Chi Chi made a circle around the other woman, gauging the dress critically. "Perhaps the shade of green is a little off," she admitted with a shrug.

"I can't wear this!" Bulma protested with a growl. "Chi, please be serious!"

Flinging her long braid over her shoulder, Chi Chi turned around and made her way over to the seamstress whom was busy with some brocade at the counter of the very exclusive bridal shop. She smiled at the woman and nodded, signaling that the real dresses be brought out and fitted for her big day. When she turned around, #18 was tapping her foot, glaring at her, while Launch was busy fluffing Bulma's dress, trying to reassure her that she didn't look that bad.

"One more dress ladies, and then I promise we'll be done," Chi Chi said with conviction. She was sure they would all agree on her actual selection. She had excellent taste in clothing, and she had no intention of her wedding day turning tacky. She had just wanted to use this time to see her friends wear something they would never wear unless well…unless they were somehow incapacitated. And if they didn't like her final selection, that would just be too bad. She wasn't kidding when she said it was HER wedding.

*****

He crouched behind a cluttered counter holding a small recorder and some rather unfortunate persons forearm. He winced in disgust at the unclean methodology, the evident unprofessional use of a screwdriver and the sheer amount of hair. He also thought he had something in his shoe.

"It looks like he's going for quality not quantity this time," #17 commented as he approached the crouching Saiyan.

"Heads up," Vegeta replied, tossing a severed head up to #17 who instinctively reached out to catch it. He cursed loudly as he bobbled the ball of gooey mush, but quickly regained some control.

"This isn't like the last one at all, is it?" #17 stated more than asked. He held the head up at an angle and stared into what could only be considered the nose.

"No," came Vegeta's gruff reply. "Our boy is quite proficient with chopping implements. He has just made some modifications this time."

It hadn't just been the means, it had also been the body count and the location of the slayings. Vegeta grumbled as he rocked on the balls of his feet, still crouching next to the headless, mutilated body of a young woman. He was becoming more disturbed by the second. The young woman, or what was left of her, reminded him of his own woman. What was equally disturbing was the fact that her apartment was only three blocks away.

"Looks like our little boy was in a bit of a rush," #17 stated as he ran a gloved hand along the underside of the far counter. "The one over there took a while to bleed to death."

Vegeta grunted in response.

"And it seems he got romantic with the one in the bathroom," #17 casually threw in. "Although, he's done that before."

A metallic snapping sounded throughout the kitchen as Vegeta's grip tore through the side of the counter when he pulled himself up. The thought of anyone even brushing up against Bulma by accident agitated him to no end. He couldn't even begin to imagine what he would do to anyone with the audacity to break into her apartment with the intent to harm her. Then again, he could imagine quite a bit. He took several deep breaths as he tried to focus on something else, anything else, in order to keep himself from tearing apart the building in an unprovoked fit of jealous rage.

That's when he saw the window.

"This guy definitely has some issues," #17 continued with his critique. "Do you think we'll ever catch the fucker?"

The bottom corner of the partially open window was cracked and broken, small flecks of blood dotted and dried on the cold, smooth surface of the glass. A neighbor, who had called to report suspicious sounds, had discovered the bodies. The report indicated they had knocked on the door and tried to open it last night after hearing some muffled shouts in the otherwise quiet, posh residential apartment building. Perhaps the sudden noise of a possible entry caught someone off guard, enough that they fell and cut themselves before opening the window and taking off. As Vegeta looked outside of the window at the small, concrete patio leading towards the fire escape, he smirked. If it had been their boy, he had indeed been quite unsettled. If it had been a victim, they'd managed to escape with both of their legs intact.

Vegeta mumbled some notes into his recorder, conveying the scene on the patio into his records. One rubber glove, blood stained and torn, littered the ground. The tracks that led to the fire escape were also bloodied, the tread clearly visible in the not quite pristine snow. The biggest break however, were the handprints gracing the edge of the patio where it looked as if someone had grabbed for support as they'd slipped, not realizing they'd lost a glove. The deciding factor for Vegeta, was the strong smell of the blood in the air. It was a man's, judging by certain hormonal factors, and held a certain bouquet that didn't quite match the corpses in the apartment.

Stupid, clumsy humans.

"What else do we know about this guy?" #17 asked as he continued with his investigation in the kitchen.

"Well," Vegeta began in his superior aired tone. "I would say his shoe size, his blood type and his fingerprints."

The investigator's head whipped around as a cool, blue glare concentrated on the Saiyan.

"And that most certainly is NOT a guess."

*****

The cocktail party was a success…so far. Things were beginning to wind down despite the efforts of the three Saiyans present who were busy trying to finish off the rest of the food. Although the affair had mostly centered on the socializing and the drinks, an obviously healthy array of edibles had also been presented. It was a little known fact that the mayor loved variety.

A dark eyebrow raised and wiggled as it caught the dark eyes of a beautiful woman with long, black hair.

"He's been making eyes at you all night," the elegantly dressed blonde woman stated evenly.

"He's so romantic!" A cheerful voice beamed with excitement.

"He's probably just eyeing that piece of pie you're eating," the blonde replied with a smile.

"If you ask me," a beautiful woman with silky blue hair responded with a mischievous smile, "that's not the piece of pie he's thinking about."

"Bulma!" Chi Chi gasped out with a slight chuckle.

Bulma merely shrugged while #18 grinned and Launch nodded knowingly.

"Honestly!" Chi Chi protested.

"I hope my little bear is feeling frisky tonight," Launch sighed out with a distant look before wandering off to find Tien.

"That's a thought," #18 added as she walked over to where Krillin was chatting with Captain Roshi.

"Bulma?" Chi Chi questioned her friend quietly once the two were left alone. "I want to thank you."

"Thank me?" Bulma blinked.

"For helping me out…for being my friend." Her eyes were taking on that slightly misted quality when she finally glanced up to look Bulma straight in the eye.

"Oh Chi," Bulma smiled earnestly as she hugged her friend and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "Whatever you need, I'll be there for you. You're my friend!"

Embracing her friend happily, Chi Chi smiled and gave Bulma a peck on the cheek in return.

Halfway across the room, three pairs of eyes watched the scene in rapt attention.

"Did you catch that?" Raditz elbowed Yamcha, who was looking quite debonair in a stylish suit and tie, complete with a new haircut that would make any boot camp Sargent proud.

Yamcha slowly nodded as his mouth dropped open. His face had gone pale and his fingers were visibly twitching. In his disbelief, his previously firm grasp on his dish lessened, causing the food to fall from the plate.

"I sure did catch that!" Goku piped in, catching the falling dish with ease. "And it's a good thing too! You would have had food all over the floor!"

Yamcha's gaze didn't falter as he watched the women embracing, their lips touching each other's cheeks. He nudged Raditz as he whispered quietly, "how drunk do you think they would have to be?"

Raditz took a moment to form his opinion. "Not all that drunk, from the looks of it."

Vegeta, who hadn't really wanted to tear his attention from the goody table, turned his head to see his woman and Kakarott's woman locked in an embrace, exchanging pecks on the cheek. He narrowed his eyes at the two men making eyes at the pair.

"Get your minds out of the gutter, you fucks!" Vegeta hissed. Although he was quite sure that it would never happen, the very thought of Bulma having sexual relations with anyone but himself made him somewhat queasy, and a whole lot pissed.

"Kakarott," Raditz smiled at his brother, "you and Chi should come out for drinks with us later. Bulma can even bring Vegeta along." The long haired Saiyan wiggled his eyebrows at the other two.

"Come off it!" Vegeta retorted.

"You mean to tell me that the prospect of…"

"No," Vegeta quickly answered. "It does not do a fucking thing for me!"

"Me neither!" Goku confided in his friends as he poked Yamcha in the ribs. "But throw her in bed with a few choice tenderloins, and I am totally there!"

Three pairs of eyes shifted to stare incredulously at Goku.

"Now," Goku stated quite cheerfully but with a very dangerous look, "who wants this last pork dumpling?"

*****

They allowed Yajarobi to tag along for post cocktail party drinks back at Chi Chi's house. It had been six weeks since the shooting and the girls still felt sorry for him. Well, #18 didn't, but that was mostly due to the fact that she had to put up with him on a daily basis.

Goku tugged at the collar of his suit, very uncomfortable in the restrictive material. It wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't been made to wear a tie but his sugar cookie had insisted, and she tended to get a little forceful when she insisted.

"How in the hell do you wear these things everyday?" Goku asked #17 as he once again tugged at his collar.

#17 eyed his friend as he stood at the counter opening a cold bottle of beer. Before he could answer, Chi Chi pushed herself in-between them carrying two bottles of wine.

"Open these Sweetie," she ordered cheerfully. "Then you can take off that tie."

"Tie problems, huh," Krillin chuckled from the couch where he sat rubbing #18's feet. "I feel for you ladies and those shoes."

"Thank you Krillin!" Chi Chi announced sincerely from the kitchen. "See?" She slapped Goku on the arm as he opened the second bottle while trying very hard not to break it, "you men aren't the only ones that have to suffer."

"The shoes aren't the worst of it," Bulma stated as she sat on a very stern Saiyan prince's lap. He was beginning to look mighty uneasy as Bulma continued to stroke his chest and abdomen in strong, lazy circles through his dress shirt. His concentration flitted about the room as she intermittently began to unbutton the garment little by little.

"Oh you women complain about everything!" Yajarobi commented as he grabbed a beer and headed into the living room.

Raditz and Yamcha, who had both been sitting in relative silence enjoying a drink, gave each other a glance before turning their attention towards their chunky cohort.

"I mean, really! Have you ladies ever had to wear a jock strap?"

"No," #18 replied smoothly from the couch, "but I might be willing to try." She winked at Krillin and wiggled her toes.

"Everyday for the past twenty years," Raditz announced from his spot on the loveseat as he held up his beer. Yamcha immediately held up his own bottle in salute, clinking the glasses together and downing what remained.

"Since when did you ever have to wear a jock?" #17 stated with a moderate amount of amusement towards the plump man.

"Please, a mere push up bra has a jock beat," Chi Chi added as she placed some snacks on a platter.

"And there will be a very naked woman being mounted in the middle of this room in about three seconds if she doesn't stop," Vegeta ground out suddenly before pushing Bulma off his lap and stomping down the hall towards the bathroom.

There were a few polite coughs as Bulma stood, dusted off her long gown and trailed after her moody lover. Raditz noticed the sweet, tipsy smile on her face as she passed him on her way towards the hallway, and he gave her the thumbs up as she strolled by.

"She is so fucking with him," he stated towards Yamcha, although his comment was loud enough to be heard by the room in general.

She opened the door without knocking and interrupted him splashing water on his face.

"Just what is your problem?" She asked as she shut the bathroom door, giving them some privacy.

"You are really pushing it with this touchy-feely crap!" He snarled angrily. "I will not be fondled outright in Kakarott's living room!"

"Oh," Bulma's blue eyes flashed a warning, "I get it! But it's OK for you to fuck me while my neighbors, not to mention the whole city, watches?!"

"That's different!" Vegeta snapped hurriedly, closing the distance between them, knowing full well that she had him on that one.

"How?" It was obvious that she was still angry, but that look in his eyes and the alcohol in her system were quickly changing her tone and making her knees go weak.

"Because I do not know those people," he pointed at the door as he waved his arm, "these people here however…you know very well that they would never let me live it down."

"So?" She threw her arms around his neck, "punch their lights out."

He smirked slightly. The woman was thinking more like him daily. He nuzzled her hair, taking in the scent of her expensive perfume. He didn't really mind being groped. He was just frustrated that he couldn't fondle her back. Although she was the one who had been doing most of the drinking, he was in quite an amorous mood. It was irritating him to no end that he had to maintain a certain level of decency.

"Would you really strip me down and take me on the floor?" Her hot breath tickled his neck. Sure, they had done just that at her place on several occasions, but just thinking about it was making her anxious.

"Not out there. But perhaps…"

"Hey!" Chi Chi pounded angrily against the door. When she failed to hear any angry altercation, she feared the worst. "No screwing in my nice, clean bathroom!"

Bulma giggled as she pulled a smirking Vegeta in for a kiss. When they parted, she tilted his head down, resting his forehead against her own.

"Did you have to go? Or were you just trying to get away from me?"

"I have to go," he confessed.

When he turned around and began to unzip his pants she smacked him firmly on the rear and walked out, closing the door behind her. She sauntered down the hallway towards the foyer, her ultimate goal the kitchen, where she found Chi Chi giving her a questioning look when she walked in.

"Problem solved," Bulma smiled as she gingerly picked up a glass of wine.

Chi Chi smiled as she handed a platter to Yamcha to take into the other room where Raditz had a fire going in the fireplace and everyone was looking nice and cozy. She sighed at the picture perfect scene and the feeling of contentment it created just before nearly dropping dead from a heart attack as the phone rang inches from her ear.

"Hello?" She answered the phone quickly, wondering who could be calling after eleven in the evening. "Goku, it's for you."

Goku picked up the phone as Bulma felt two warm hands settle on her bare shoulders.

"This is Goku," Goku answered the phone cheerfully. Everyone peered to see who was calling. Vegeta, who was standing right next to Goku and just behind Bulma could hear the voice at the other end of the phone-line quite clearly.

"I am not he…" Vegeta began, but was cut short as Goku reached out his hand and planted it squarely on the shorter Saiyan's face. Vegeta was momentarily stunned and began sputtering.

"Yeah, he's right here," Goku smiled as he held his partner at bay. "Yeah, we'll be right over…sure…bye!"

Goku hung up the phone and was promptly punched in the stomach.

"Oomph!" Goku doubled over clutching his midsection.

"You son of a whore! Why did you tell them I was here?"

"It's overtime Vegeta," Goku managed out, still sounding too cheerful for his own good. "You love overtime. Besides, Captain Roshi said that they've found the guy you guys have been looking for."

Vegeta perked up a little at the news, as did #17 from his spot in the living room.

"He wants us to be the ones that haul him in."

"Vegeta?" Bulma sounded shaky and worried. She knew that the case Vegeta had been working on was particularly gruesome, but he would never discuss it with her and since her attention had been diverted to more technological ventures she hadn't had the opportunity to pry.

"The two of you? Isn't that overkill?" #18 replied from the couch.

"This boy of ours is a sick fuck," #17 relayed his feelings on the situation. "Those two should have fun."

"Sweetie," Chi Chi sounded a little disappointed, but she had complete confidence in her Goku, "make sure you wear your jacket. And take these with you." She handed both officers a small bag of something very sweet smelling. "There's enough for both of you. Don't be late!"

Goku smiled and pecked his Cookie on the cheek as he grabbed his coat and stuffed on his shoes. Bulma turned around to grab Vegeta's wrist before he made it out of the kitchen. When he felt her fingers touch his skin, he grabbed her wrist in turn and pulled her out into the foyer.

"Stay here, woman," he demanded. "I do not want you going home alone, or without me. Stay here until I come to collect you." He pulled her to him and kissed her first on her nose, then on her lips. She nodded when he finished and closed the door when the two had left, locking it behind them.

"Kinda gives you the creeps, doesn't it?" Chi Chi stated as she watched her friend standing in the dimly lit foyer from the kitchen. "Come on, we can make everyone play a game to take our minds off it," she offered, "besides, I'm too tipsy to start feeling sad that I can't cuddle with my Goku, and I am sure you feel the same way."

Bulma smiled at her friend, reminded for the second time that evening just how important Chi Chi was to her and just how much she understood.

*****

Everyone glared at each other over the tops of their cards as they sat on the floor around the large glass coffee table in the middle of Chi Chi's living room. Yamcha and Raditz had insisted on the game of strip poker, both having set certain agendas for the evening, which mostly included seeing some beautiful women naked. However, upon learning that they themselves were not familiar with the game, they had learned that the only person who even knew how to play was #18, and they knew they couldn't trust her not to cheat to save their lives. So, they had settled on any card game that Chi Chi could dig up, with the stipulation it be a match that involved stripping.

And that was all very much a contributing factor to their current predicament.

#17 held out his cards for Bulma to chose one. She eyed him carefully, trying to gauge which card to take. She had three cards left and most of her clothing. If she managed to make a match, she would keep some of her clothing a little longer and be only two cards away from winning. If she didn't manage to make a match, she would most likely lose her dress.

She made her choice and made a face as she didn't make a match.

"Off with the dress, beautiful!" Raditz hooted from across the table.

"I thought we agreed that jewelry could double as an article of clothing since you…men…" #18 hesitated, "have more to your suits."

Krillin nodded as he cleared his throat nervously.

Raditz sighed and took a gulp of beer as Bulma smiled, removing the jeweled pins from her hair. She then held up her cards for Yamcha to pick one.

He had four cards and he needed a match. They had only played two rounds but he had gone big and was now shirtless on the floor in-between Bulma and #18. When he failed to make a match, he tugged off his belt and placed it on the table, then held up his cards without watching #18 make her pick.

Much like Bulma, #18 had three cards left. She took the card from Yamcha and tried not to growl. So he was the little shit that had the old maid! Crap! Now she had it! And she failed to make a match! She angrily pulled off her nylons and threw them on the table next to the pretzels.

Krillin picked next. He still had his shirt on, but he had lost his pants, and was now fidgeting a little nervously as Chi Chi continued to eye him from her seat next to him. He watched his girlfriend's face while he made his selection and recognized the hint of an angry glimmer in her eye. He'd have to make his choice carefully. He figured Yamcha must've had the old maid, and now she had it. If she ended up with it at the end of the game, she'd have to strip completely, but only if she hadn't been completely stripped by then anyway.

He held his breath as he grabbed a card, and let out a quiet chuckle as he made a match.

"Two seals," he announced. "Read em and weep."

"With those legs, you have nothing to brag about," Chi Chi replied to his comment as she quickly picked a card out of his not quite offered hand. She was rather tipsy and everyone had found out that when Chi Chi was teetering in the realm of `not quite drunk yet', she tended to be a bit hasty. And she still had all five cards.

"Ha!" She cheered as she managed to make a match. "I have two lion tamers! And I still have my pants!" She stated aside for Krillin's benefit.

"Let's see that hand, pretty lady," Raditz poked his soon to be sister-in-law in the ribs. She looked over at the muscle-bound Saiyan next to her and held up her cards. He was wearing his pants and his tie, but no shirt. She rather liked the look, and she felt a little naughty for checking out her Sweetie's brother.

Raditz continued to smile as he picked his card. He only had three cards left, but he hadn't loaded himself down with clothing either, always being the type to dress light. That and the fact that he never liked to dress too warmly either. He laughed when he failed to make a match and stood up to remove his pants, deciding to live dangerously and leave his belt on. As he pulled off his pants, Chi Chi gasped when she saw that Raditz hadn't been fibbing when he commented on the jock strap.

"Old habits die hard," he responded to the little bouts of giggles breaking out around the table. Yamcha once again saluted him with his beer, and drank heartily.

When he sat down, he adjusted himself proudly, then grinned at Yajarobi, who gulped loudly.

"Pick a winner," Raditz stated with a smirk as he held out his cards while reaching for his beer with the other.

Yajarobi was trying to play it cool. He always knew that the others wanted to see him naked, and he really couldn't blame them. Any of them. He was definitely a man that had enough to go around, although he admitted to anyone that would dare to ask, only for the ladies. He blinked at the cards the Saiyan offered, distrusting that smirk plastered on his face. He often figured that Raditz was undressing him with his eyes, and if he didn't manage to make a match, the huge Saiyan's dreams just might come true.

"This is such a stupid idea," Yajarobi stated when he failed to make a match. "Who really wants to play strip `old maid' anyway? I mean…"

"Look, I really hate to say this," #18 stated candidly, "but if you didn't make a match there pudgeboy, you'll have to take something off." She wasn't smiling as she said the statement, but she knew that someone had to say it.

"Fine!" Yajarobi huffed as he removed his shirt, managing to turn off everyone at the table.

"Maybe we should have him dress up," #17 remarked, seeing the gooey flab gracing the other man's body. Just what in the hell had he done wrong to be made to sit next to him anyway?

"I'm gonna need a whole lot more wine to make it through the night if this is what I have in store," Bulma muttered. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine Vegeta completely disrobed and in the shower. It helped a little, but she still knew that when she opened her eyes, she'd be left with a half naked doughboy instead.

"All we can hope for," #17 stated quite calmly and seriously as he picked a card from the still flustered Yajarobi, "is that a certain someone doesn't end up with the old maid."

Seven heads nodded in agreement as the game continued, not so secretly hoping for a quick end.

*****

Well, slowly but surely the story is coming to a close. If anyone else would like to comment, it would be greatly appreciated. How am I supposed to fix and hone my writing skills if you don't let me know your opinions? Next part should be up tomorrow, and then its time for the epilogue. Hopefully, you won't have to wait much longer…