Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Apprentice ❯ Silence... ( Chapter 11 )

Well, hooray for me. I got this chapter complete by my deadline. I don't normally self-impose a deadline. But, I knew I really needed to get my ass in gear and write something. I truly hope you enjoy this chapter. And special thanks to PG for helping beta my shiznit. Now hurry up with Dancing on the Razor's Edge, wench!!

Apprentice by Alexa

Chapter Eleven - Silence…

The trial was nearing a full week's worth of debating and just plain arguing. Judge Zidane ordered a two day break before Link and Sephiroth were literally at each other's throat. Plus, he personally was growing tired of the Emerald sons constant insinuations that Ashentara, their own sister, was of questionable virtue. Even the media was feeding off of the notion of "infidelity". Some began asking Trunks how he felt about the whole situation. One went as far to put forth the theory that Trunks was the one who shared Ash's bed. The scene changed when it was Vegeta holding back Trunks instead of vice versa.

A two day suspension which included silencing the media for those forty-eight hours. The test was really on them. Could they keep quiet for two days? Probably not. However, any station that even mentioned the case, trial, or any persons involved would then be barred from the courthouse when the trial resumed. Honestly, Zidane was hoping they would talk. Then maybe there would be some peace for a change.

At Capsule Corp., peace was not to be had. A few media crews had made attempts to get interviews with anyone who would talk. Even obscure Capsule Corp. employees were being run down by cameramen. Bulma had security beefed up and implemented a handful of drastic measures. The first couple of vans had to be towed once the tires were blown out. Remote controlled explosives in small amounts were a wonderful thing. By the middle of the first day of silence, most stations had given up. However, there were those non-network 'investigative' reporters who persisted.

Vegeta could feel the dishonesty practically rolling off the tabloid reporters. He did not allow any to slip past him. He also wasn't allowing Ash to slack off. They had been sparring for hours. So far, the score was Vegeta: 16. Ash: 0!

"You have fallen behind! This is unacceptable."

"At what time was I supposed to be continuing my training?" Ash practically yelled from her position on the ground.

"I have not slacked in my own training, and neither should you."

"I hate to undermine your authority here, but somehow I don't think your wife would appreciate me being in the gravity chamber. At night… with you." Alone. I don't think I should have to remind you, of all people, the implications placed on both of us. "I suppose I should have been sparring with Trunks."

Vegeta sighed. The anger he felt was not directed at Ash. "That boy is lazier than you are."

Ash had to suppress a laugh. "I'll take that as a compliment." She picked herself off the ground. "Are we going for another round? Or have you grown tired of knocking me on my ass?"

"I'm tired of you not defending yourself. No more sparring. You don't stand a chance against me anyway."

"We'll see how long that stays true."

Vegeta stared at Ash for a moment. "You're too rigid. You lack the proper skill and abilities to defeat me." Your human strength will never be able to surpass mine. It won't let you. Your skill… is another matter. Is has possibilities.

"I'm too rigid?" Ash seemed to think about that for a moment, then nodded her head. "Perhaps. What will my goal be? What should I be able to do in order to know I'm … limber enough?"

The Saiyan seemed to think about that for a moment. Finally deciding on a scale of sorts to measure her progress, Vegeta dropped into a handstand. His body was almost perfectly straight, until he dropped his legs into a splits. Ashentara watched as the muscles in Vegeta's thighs stretched a little more until his feet were a little closer to the ground. From one foot to the other, the span of Vegeta's legs created a slight downward curve.

Ash had to blink a few times to make sure she was seeing this correctly. I can do the splits, but that is more than a simple splits. I never knew it was possible for a man to spread his legs so wide. The young woman had to fight a blush crawling up her cheeks. Great! Look where that damn trial has directed your train of thought, gutter brain. Well, on the bright side I am a little flustered from exercising, maybe he won't notice part of this is a blush. A part of her mind was stifling a giggle at her own expense. Is it bad to laugh at one's self?

"When you can do this… maybe, you will be capable of learning more." Vegeta stressed the 'maybe'.

"Well, a girl's got to have aspirations." Ash began working on her thigh and groin muscles in an attempt to copy her teacher. I hate the splits! Its uncomfortable as hell, and I have yet to find a use for it. Other then it looks really neat, and some people cringe when they see you do it. She propped one foot against a tree and leaned her upper body forward. Concentrating only on the necessary muscle groups, she didn't see the white boot coming closer to her ribs.

Vegeta could easily see all of Ashentara's defenses were down. He decided to test her reflexes. Horrible. How the fuck did she ever get her hands on all seven dragonballs? Alive!

Ash looked up to see the annoyed face of Vegeta.

"Your reflexes are absolutely horrible! You should never let your guard down. Especially when training."

"Yes, Master Vegeta. I'll remember that." The young woman steadily picked herself up off the ground.

"You will remember. Your reflexes are now next on the schedule."

Oh, joy! Hear my excitement at the very thought. Is it a bad sign when your inside voice is sarcastic? Ash resumed her stretching exercises. This time she kept a much closer watch on the Saiyan.

Vegeta harrumphed as he observed Ash work out the muscles of her slender frame. He began to realize what she was doing. "If you are only striving to imitate me, then perhaps you require another task. One that is more difficult."

Ash turned to her sensei to see him in another handstand. What is he doing now? Vegeta shifted his balance until his legs curved back towards the upper half of his body. The Saiyan's toes were inches away from his thick mane. The muscles of his chest and abs were drawn taut.

From his position, Vegeta gave his apprentice her next task. "After you can successfully hold each of these positions for ten minutes, … I may consider intensifying your education."

The smart-ass within could only be held at bay for so long. "I have one question. Do I have to touch my hair? Cuz, mine doesn't stand up like yours." Which kind of freaks me out sometimes, but I doubt you would want to hear that.

The prince contemplated saying 'yes' to her remark. It could be somewhat amusing to see her attempt it. However, it ultimately would prove to be a waste of time. Still the thought entertained his mind for a moment as he cast a glance at Ash. Her good-natured smile began to falter as she saw his serious visage.

Oh shit. Should I tell him I was merely joking? No, probably not. With this guy, it might only work like reverse psychology. I'll just keep my mouth shut.

"Feel free to try, but I will not demand it of you." Vegeta let his feet touch the soft grass and returned himself to a standing position.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Elsewhere in West City, a certain lavender-haired heir sat at his designated desk in a sparsely filled classroom. Fifteen minutes prior the last bell signaling the end of the school day had rung. But, Trunks and a small group of other students remained. Detention: the bane of all high school students. This was the first time the half-breed had ever been required to attend. Schools tended to look down upon fighting.

Trunks continued to stare at the clock. Hoping that some part of his inhuman nature would make the damn contraption move faster. After another ten minutes passed, he gave up. Why the hell am I in here? A recollection of looking down on Buzz's bloody face was a sufficient reminder. Oh yeah. That bastard was disrespecting my mom. Probably a good thing he has Saturday detention, or we'd both end up in more trouble. Letting out a deep sigh, he pulled a notebook out of his backpack. Drawing had always taken his attention away from time. After a short time, Trunks looked down at his drawing. Scratching his head, the youth pondered. Why did I draw Ash? Well, it mostly looks like Ash, but not exactly like her.

The image was of a young woman in a sports bra and mini skirt doing a high kick. The perspective seemed to start at her shoe and go out to the rest of her body. Trunks had even gone as far as to draw tread on her shoe with the Capsule Corp. logo incorporated into it. Her expression clearly displayed animosity. This was a scene with which Trunks was all too familiar. Ash had a tendency to aim for his head whenever she did a high kick. Never his shoulder, always his head.

Mrs. Dyche was the teacher assigned to watch the 'delinquent' students. The woman was very strict and had strong feelings about certain kinds of boys. She noticed the young Briefs at work. Not caring if it was a note or doodle, she quietly stood from her desk and headed straight for her unsuspecting victim. Mrs. Dyche did not allow detention students to amuse themselves. They were supposed to be studying or thinking about their 'crime'.

"Mr. Briefs!"

Trunks nearly fell out of his seat at the sound of the teacher. "Yes, Mrs. Dyche?"

"What is that in your hand?" The woman's voice sounded like she was talking to a five-year-old in the kindergarten.

"Its just a little drawing. Nothing really." Trunks tried to stuff the paper back into his bag.

Before it reached half way, Mrs. Dyche snatched it out of his hand. "Nothing, huh? Then you won't mind if I share it with the rest of the class."

Somehow, he knew a protest was just what she wanted to hear. He wasn't going to give her that satisfaction. Setting his face into a blank indifferent stare, Trunks waited for her next try at embarrassing him. Its not like I sketched out my ideal mate or anything. Mate? Yikes, I really have been talking to dad too much. Mental note: Spend more time with mom. That thought slowly began to sink in. No, wait. Scratch that! New mental note: Get out of the fucking house more often. Yeah, that sounds better.

The spiteful woman held up the drawing for the rest of the disinterested students to see. No one made any kind of reaction to her little scene. She took this as a sign to continue and actually looked at what was on the paper.

"Mr. Briefs!"

Her voice had a startling effect; Trunks almost fell out of his chair, again. He let out a sigh, and asked, "What?"

"Do you honestly believe that real women look like this?" To accentuate her words, she indicated the woman in the picture.

"Some do."

"HA!" Mrs. Dyche quickly glanced at the drawing again. "Only if she's on some sort of drug.! And no self-respecting woman would ever dress like that."

Losing complete interest in the conversation, Trunks simply mumbled, "You've never met Ash."

"What?!"

"Nothing."

With a huff, Mrs. Dyche dropped the paper back onto Trunks's desk and returned to the front of the classroom.

Lavender hair falling into crystal eyes was futilely blown around. Fifteen minutes was all that remained of a student's hell. After the fiasco Mrs. Dyche tried to make out of his sketch, Trunks had remained quiet. But silence is not always golden. His extra sensitive hearing could hear all the little sounds within the school. To the observer, he was absently staring off into space, but in reality he was following the progress of the school's janitor. From the sound of it, he was busy mopping the third floor science lab.

Mrs. Dyche stood from her seat gaining the attention of every student. "I am taking a quick restroom break. None of you are to leave prematurely. Understand?"

No one responded. She stalked out of the room with her ever-present huff.

Felix, a notorious repeat offender, casually got up and strode over to Trunks. He didn't utter a word, merely handed a loosely rolled piece of paper to the other young man. Trunks hesitantly accepted the proffered article. Once delivered, Felix calmly returned to his desk, stretched a little, and then sat back down. One girl to his left whispered a question, but received no answer.

Trunks stared curiously at the paper. He knew Felix by reputation alone. The boy was constantly in trouble for 'doodling' in class; however, from what he had heard, Felix did more than purely doodle. Trunks had yet to hear of a teacher that enjoyed his particular form of art. In addition Mrs. Dyche was one of the most outspoken teachers against Felix. If she caught Trunks with one of his drawings, then he just might be in Saturday detention with Buzz.

I better look at this before that harpy comes back. If Buzz and I both end up serving the same detention, one of us is not going to survive. I'll be damned if I let a weakling like him even think he stands a chance against me. Quickly unrolling the loose paper, Trunks felt his breath catch in his suddenly dry throat. He was beginning to understand why the faculty didn't like Felix's art. It almost looked like something out of Playboy. Though, the figure was not completely naked. Well, she appears naked, but … her pose doesn't show… The sketch was very realistic and somewhat provocative.

"Felix, man. What did you give to the pretty boy?" One of the other students less than discreetly asked.

Felix shrugged his shoulders. "Ask him. You know when I give someone one of my sketches that it becomes theirs."

"Felix, dammit!" The boy turned to Trunks, "Hey, pretty boy. Show me what Felix drew you."

Trunks wasn't sure who this other kid was, but the more he spoke, the less Trunks gave a shit. "My name is not pretty boy."

"Yeah, whatever. Just show me the damn girl!" he sat holding his hand out towards Trunks. "Hey, Felix? Did you finally draw one naked?"

"Come on, Quentin. All my girls are naked. Just none of them show their stuff." Felix laughed at the other's expense.

Quentin turned his full attention back to Trunks. "YO! Show me the fucking bitch. Is she hot?"

Trunks was gaining a better understanding of his father's short tolerance for people. If I were more like dad, I would have KI balled your ass a long time ago. Prick. "Explain to me the significance of beauty in a drawing of a woman that doesn't even exist."

Quentin's expression was completely dumbfounded. "Man, you suck."

Felix twisted in his chair to look at the lavender youth. "Who said she doesn't exist?"

It was Trunks's turn to look dumbfounded.

"What?! The bitch is real? I gotta see her now!"

"Mr. Garrett!" The harpy was back. "You do not use that kind of language here. Nay, you were not supposed to be talking at all."

Quentin Garrett was not one to go down alone. He seemed to enjoy taking others with him. "Felix was drawing, again. And,… and he gave it to pretty boy over there."

One of the other girls snickered. "Quentin, you are such a piece of… scum."

"Miss Breeding, I would appreciate if you did not interrupt." Mrs. Dyche looked at Felix who displayed empty hands before rounding on Trunks. "Mr. Briefs, where is the … drawing?"

Play dumb. Show that asshole not to fuck with a Saiyan. "What drawing?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Mr. Briefs. I want the drawing that Felix gave you."

"I don't have a …"

"Mrs. Dyche, Quentin is lying about the drawing. Felix didn't give anything to Trunks."

"Miss Breeding, can you back up your statement?"

"Yeah, Miss Breeding." Quentin didn't know when to shut up. "Can you prove I'm lying?"

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Is that a confession I hear?"

"No! If Felix didn't draw nothing, then why do his hands look like that?"

Felix displayed his hands palm-up. Pencil marks covered the tips of most of his fingers and the edge of each hand. "I was given detention because I was drawing in an earlier class. I never got the chance to wash my hands."

Mrs. Dyche was growing tired of this discussion. "Where is the alleged drawing?"

"Pretty boy put it in his notebook. I saw him do it."

"Mr. Briefs, may I see the drawing in your notebook?"

"I don't have one."

The angry teacher shifted her gaze to a piece of paper sticking out of the corner. "You don't have one? Then what is this?" She grabbed the piece pulling it from Trunks's notebook. With barely more than a glance, Mrs. Dyche threw the paper back at Trunks and marched back to her own desk. "Mr. Garrett, I expect you to report here tomorrow at the usual time."

"What did I do?"

"Swearing, lying, and being disruptive."

The Breeding girl peeked at the paper laying before Trunks. It was his drawing of the girl doing the high kick.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Ashentara was knocked to the ground for the umpteenth time that afternoon. Once Vegeta had driven her to thoroughly stretch all of her muscles beyond their limits, he began a new sparring session. Except this time, he was testing all of her reflexes. Ash's muscles were so sore that her responses were slowed because of it. She found herself on the ground a lot more than she liked.

"You are wasting my time, Ashentara." Vegeta paced around the young woman. She was in the process of picking herself up, again. "Even you should have been able to block that attack." His constant circling was beginning to remind Ash of vultures waiting for an animal to die.

I refuse to give up now. Too much time has been invested. Besides, giving up is hardly something I do. With a determined grunt, she pushed her battered body up. Wiping a trickle of blood from her brow, Ash stared dead into Vegeta's cold obsidian eyes. "I'm not dead, yet."

"Where the hell is Trunks?" Bulma came storming out of the house. Hands on hips, lips pursed, and one could easily tell she was not happy. "He was supposed to be home from school an hour ago."

Master and apprentice halted at the sound of an angry mother. Vegeta barely acknowledged her presence. Ash, on the other hand, was looking right at the woman.

"It's that late already?"

"Yes! Ugh! I hope for his sake he's just at Goten's and forgot to tell me."

Vegeta heard a commotion at the front gate. It was the various news crews camped out in front of their home. Each kept trying to outdo the other. Frankly, everyone was sick of it. The noise indicated the arrival of the missing heir.

"Calm down, woman. He's home now." Vegeta's raspy voice was not the most soothing sound; however, Bulma did calm down a little.

Trunks parked his air car and headed for the house. And his waiting mother.

"Where have you been?" Bulma did make an effort to not sound upset. She almost succeeded.

"Detention."

"What?! You were in detention? Why?"

"Fighting."

"Fighting?!" The blue-topped woman was at a loss for words. A part of her always knew that one day Trunks would get in trouble for fighting. Now was not the best time for that to happen.

"Mom, one of the idiot jocks was bad-mouthing you. I was not about to let some ass disrespect my family."

Bulma decided that his intentions had been good. "Next time don't get caught."

Trunks dropped his backpack near the back door.

"Hey, Trunks. How is Goten?" Ash's question was rather innocent, but the answer she received was not.

"Goten is fine by himself. He'll be over in a few hours."

"Why didn't he just come home with you?" Goten had a habit of popping up every few days after school.

"Chichi doesn't want her 'baby' to be associated with this family all of a sudden." The animosity was clear in his voice. Trunks mumbled, "Stupid wench."

"Trunks Vegeta Briefs!!" Bulma had heard his mumble. "How dare you call Chichi that! That woman has been through enough in her life without you adding to her grief."

Trunks was infuriated at his best friend's mother. Chichi was too overprotective of Goten. She had refused to let him be seen anywhere near Capsule Corp. while the sun was still shining. Afraid that the accusations on the Briefs family might rub off onto him.

"And you, Vegeta! What have I told you about teaching our son to say things like that?"

Vegeta, rather calmly for the rage emanating off his lithe frame, stalked closer to Bulma. "Woman, now is not a brilliant time for you to be yelling at us." His words slithering past clinched teeth. He had to suppress a snarl.

Ash resumed doing a few minor stretching exercises. Her muscles were screaming in protest, but it seemed the best thing to do at the time.

Vegeta returned to his previous spot near Ash. "Trunks, go into the gravity room until Kakarrot's brat arrives."

"Yes, father."

"As for you," he pointed an accusing finger at his young apprentice who could only watch as he resumed an offensive stance.

Oh, fun. This game, again. Ok, lets see if I can remain standing at least once. Ash readied herself for Vegeta's attack.

Hours passed. The sun dipped below the horizon line. Night was quickly encroaching on all the Capsule Corp. residents. Ash was again thrown to the ground, but this time she rolled out of Vegeta's reach before standing. I learn fast. Well, relatively fast all things considered. I refuse to give up now.

Vegeta was poised for another assault. The longer this session went on, the less time he allowed Ash to gain her bearings. As he was about to pounce yet again, something caught his attention causing him to stop mid-strike.

"Hey, Vegeta!" Goten was walking up the driveway. "Ash, my girl! Where's Trunks?"

Vegeta glared at the youngest Son. "The brat's in the gravity room."

"The GR? Really? Alone?" Goten slowly treaded over to stand in front of the dome. The soft hum of the machine resonated off everything near it. "Sweet! We get to play!" He took off in a short sprint for the doors. Pushing a button to alert it's occupant to his presence, Goten danced from one foot to the other in his excitement.

Steadily decreasing in decibel, the humming came to a stop. Goten was almost impatient as the sliding doors gradually opened to release a small cloud of steam into the cool evening air. "Hey, bro! What's up?"

"Goten, its about damn time you got your ass here. I've been waiting for hours." Trunks's frustrations from earlier had not lessened in his solitary time in the chamber.

"Sorry, Trunks. You know how paranoid my mother gets. Besides, she made me do all my homework before I could leave the freaking house. And you know how I suck at molecular biology." Goten's apology was sincere.

"Sorry, bro. I didn't mean to bite your head off. I've just had a really bad day."

"So I've heard." Quickly changing the subject before their training was further delayed, Goten asked, "What G are we up to now?"

Trunks laughed at his friend's enthusiasm. "I hope you like 300. Its what I've been playing in while waiting on your ass."

"Three hundred?" Surprise was very evident in Goten's voice.

The doors to the enhanced facility closed behind the two occupants sealing them from the rest of the world. That familiar humming increasingly returned to its previous pitch.

Bulma was currently busy pacing around the living room. Problems were arising with a new line of perfume. The perfume itself was fine, along with manufacturing and shipping. The problem was in the advertising department. They had successfully created a series of television commercials, but the magazine ads were a different story. A team of the best in the business, and they can't think of shit! What the hell am I paying them for? Bulma shook her hands around and took deep breaths in hopes that it would help to relieve some of the stress. It didn't. Argh! Its called Temptation for Kami's sake. How hard can it be to think of a magazine ad for that?

Her train of thought was derailed at the sound of the doorbell. "Oh, who the hell is that?" Storming over to the foyer, she practically ripped the door open. If she had been Saiyan, she would be holding it. "Mr. Link?"

"Mrs. Briefs, I know we scheduled to talk tomorrow, but its urgent that I speak you with and Miss Emerald now! I have found something very interesting. It could help to end the case."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Well, there's the end of that chapter. I have a few things to say about where this is going. Some of you have theorized about a couple coming out of this fic. I feel like I must clear this up. When I started this story, I did not intend for there to be any romance in it. However, as my writing has progressed, I had an idea. One that I truly hope surprises you all.

To all the B/V fans: I will never in any fic separate Bulma and Vegeta! Quite frankly, I find that most reasons for doing such a thing are lame. I will not do that, unless by some odd chance I do think of something truly and wholly original and moreover believable. But what are the chances that will happen? I'm thinking none.

As for whether or not Ash will hook up with Goten or Trunks… Ok, Trunks is a reasonable possibility, but Goten? I don't see Ash with Goten… Then again it could have something to do with PG constantly glomping Goten. *stares at PG* now don't take that to mean she will end up with Trunks, she might.. then might not. You'll have to read to find out.

Until next time…