Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Bad ❯ Dodge Ball? ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, nope not at all. They're not mine. DBZ/DBGT and any possible song I might decide to add to spice things up are in no way, shape, or form whatsoever mine. Right now The Offspring's 'I Want You Bad' is fueling my creative juices but, like I said, it's not mine…damn.

BAD

Chapter 2…Dodge Ball?

By: Ember Maxximus

Twinkling stars blanketed the indigo evening heavens as the cool inviting night breeze whipped through my tousled aqua locks. On eves like this, I enjoy sitting here. This is my quiet spot, my place to relax, unwind, and cleanse my thoughts. I've come here countless times since I was a child, the domed rooftops of my home, Capsule Corporation. I take pleasure in the solitude of being here, away from everything, yet not. I can still hear the traffic passing by and I can smell Mom, Kami bless her heart, burning dinner below. Pappa says I come here to meditate…whatever. I come here to think, as if I'd be caught dead floating Indian style becoming one with nature, and tonight I had quit a bit on my mind. Son Goten mostly and his feet sure must be tired because he's been running through my mind all day…among other things. When this petite attraction began, I don't know. All I can recall is that it has always existed in some way, shape, or form and as time passed it matured into this aching, relentless need for him.

For some reason, I really didn't expect it to be so different with him as it is ever has been with any other member of the opposite sex. With any other man, all I'd have to do is lick my lips and give them the 'come hither' look and they almost always fall all over themselves to please me. It figures the one time I am truly serious about someone that he'd turn into an obstinate knucklehead. Must be some sort of ingrained Saiyan male instinct, I can recall on more occasions than I have fingers and toes to count on that Pappa and Trunks have been stuck on stupid too. Men.

I know I'm not lacking in the looks department, or for that matter in the brains or boobs department, either. I remember an old beau once telling me that I was built like a shit brick house, I sort of like that analogy. Not that I'm narcissistic, I'm just aware of my assets and how to use them to my advantage, which reminds me of a little red outfit buried in the depths of my closet. I remember how Pappa and Trunks cringed when they first saw me sport it, but they surprisingly held their tongues. I believe Mom told them it was just a phase and I think Trunks had to defend my honor a few times over it, not that I can't fight my own battles, it's just that for some reason people find it easier to say things while I'm out of earshot.

Below, I can hear my balcony door sliding open and moments later I am joined by my brother. Speak of the devil. He sits besides me, gauging my disheveled appearance. He knows better than to be here, this is my spot. I don't bother him during his nighttime flights. Is it too much to ask for to receive the same common courtesy that I give him? Purple haired fucker.

He waits several minutes, hoping that I might break the silence first, while I pray he'd get a clue and go away, but it seems lady luck is not with me today. He takes a deep breath preparing to speak, "Kami, B, you smell rancid. I don't know about you, but I normally take showers after I train." So I see he's decided to take the humorous path to break the silence…ha, ha…typical Trunks. He'll have to try harder than that. "You want to talk about it?" he asks sincerely.

"Quite being a hemorrhoid, Trunks, ototoi koi*," I glare blue daggers of death at him and he laughs…laughs. "What's so funny?" I ask venomously, turning to face him.

"You smell like Goten too," he chuckled, smirking like our father.

"And that's funny how?" I countered sarcastically, undoing the long, dirty plait from my hair and running my fingers through the tangled sea foam colored locks.

"It must be something important for you to meditate out here past 2 a.m. about it," he counters, determined to get me to open up. I wonder if Mom sent him up here. Urgh!

"I am not meditating, just thinking," I angrily tell him. I turn to face him and see a look of genuine concern in his sparkling blue eyes, so much like my own, and I feel guilty for snapping at him and calling names. "Did you say 2 a.m.?" I asked very perplexed, I was totally oblivious to the fact that I'd been out here for so long.

"Meditate: To keep the mind in a state of contemplation; to dwell on anything in thought; to think seriously; to muse; to cogitate; to reflect or to train, calm, and empty the mind, often by achieving an altered state, as by focusing on a single object. Now, what were you doing?" Trunks shot at me, lifting one lavender eyebrow like the know it all that he was, although he often tried to hide that fact. I can't believe he just gave me the verbatim of the Webster's Dictionary definition, what a dork. However, his remark did bring a smile to my lips.

"Nobody likes a smartass, Trunks!" I inform even though I found his brand of humor comical, no matter the situation. He's always shined in his role as the big brother, my big brother, Trunks.

Flipping to serious mode, he asks, "Guy trouble?" I bite my lower lip. He knows the topic of my love life is a taboo subject; I have no idea why he'd even try to go there. I do not wish to discuss men, especially Goten, with my brother but as my thoughts return to earlier they betray me. I can feel a warm blush touching my cheeks. Damn it.

"We are not having this discussion," I tell him in my best 'no ifs, ands, buts, or maybes' tone.

I start to rise only to find that Trunks has grabbed my wrist, "Wait," he pleads. Like I have a choice with his unyielding grip. "Bra, you're a smart and beautiful woman and if that idiot can't see this, then it's his loss." I smile at him and kissed him lightly on his cheek. If he only knew who I've been pining for, I'm sure his little pep talk wouldn't of gone quite like that.

"Thanks, but I haven't given up on him yet." He releases my arm and I rise, jumping from the roof onto my balcony followed by Trunks.

"Hey, B, good luck," Trunks calls as he leaves my room, I assume, to go to his own private floor two levels up. For the first time since coming home I notice how awful I do smell, maybe a long hot bubble bath would do me a world of good.

~*~*~*~*~

It's been three days and I haven't seen Goten. The little shit is avoiding me. What is he thinking…that I bite? I snicker at my own funny. Ya, so what if I do, but that's beside the point. I haven't seen him around much lately and that's certainly saying something because he's always been there, coming to my house daily…religiously, as I worshipped him from afar, but from this day forth it will all be very different, screw afarness.

I looked down at the face of my diamond encrusted gold Cartier watch, 6 p.m. Goten should be getting off of work in an hour or so. I bet I could sweet-talk that bottomless pit of his into going out to dine with me; certainly the way to his heart is through his stomach, what man can resist pizza and beer.

I decided to drive rather than fly, especially since he worked in Satan City, I'm not too fond of the attention I receive when I fly over highly populated areas.

I arrived at the Satan City Youth Outreach Center at half past six. Encapsulating my Ducate' airbike, I strode into the center searching out Son Goten, it didn't take me long either to find him. He was in the gym slaughtering a group of adolescents at dodge ball. The whole scene was quite humorous, twelve against one. It just wasn't fair, not at all. I don't think those kids would've even had a snowball's chance in hell if Goten just so happened to be blindfolded and had one arm tied behind his back. As much as he was restraining himself from using his super strength and agility, he was still beating the snot out of the group.

"Hey stranger," I call out across the gym to him. All eyes are on me as I make my way across the sports hall. Turning my focus on the children, I ask, "Does he ever let you guys win?"

A skinny girl with braces and freckles answers, "Nope, he's the king of dodge ball. He's never been beaten yet."

"Never?" I inquire to the girl. Lifting one arched blue eyebrow, I turn to Mr. M.I.A., "The king, eh?" Looking like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar he doesn't answer. I walk towards the side of the gymnasium with the remaining dodge ball participants and asked the freckled girl, "So what do we get when we win?"

"Mr. Goten says if we win, then whoever is left standing on the winning side is allowed to ask for a special favor as long as it isn't something silly like a million zeni. But he always wins and makes us do our homework and stuff for his favor but one day," the little freckled faced girl lifted her fist into the air with a dreamlike expression on her face, "one day we will win."

"Maybe that day is today, ne? How about we overthrow the monarchy?" I say in loud enthusiastic voice.

"You think we have a chance Ms. lady?" asked a husky mulatto boy skeptically.

"Bra, my name is Bra." Ms. Lady, I cringed at the name. I ushered all the children in closely to me, bending to their height I informed them, "I don't know if you guys know this but I'm the Princess of the Saiyans and that means I so rule over third class self proclaimed kings of dodge ball. So how about we clean the floor him?" I ask finishing my pep talk. The children all nodded their heads, happily accepting any help to end their losing streak. Putting my fist in the center of our huddle, all the kids piled their dirty little hands atop mine, "Anarchy on three, okay guys." We all said the beautiful word in unison and a Japanese girl with a short chin length bob tossed me the ball, the game was now afoot. I wasted no time torpedoing the ball at my mark. The ball missed him by a tenth of a millimeter, damn it I was so close. Then he returned the red ball in one swift overhand pitch hitting three of my team members in one fluke shot.

"Son Luck," I gritted through my teeth at him, growling.

"Uh-uh, I'm just that good," he replied in a very cocky tone with a game face akin to his sire's battle mug. While he talked, another one of my team members slingshoted the ball right at his midsection, which he easily caught and volleyed right back at him taking the boy right out of the game. This pace continued until it was just he and I; the last two remaining players of this brutal take no prisoners battle. Kami, I was so rusty at this game, I haven't played it since grade school while this baka is obviously a seasoned veteran. The only way I'll be able to win is to pull an ace out of my sleeve otherwise known as the girl card. The ball was in my clutches, I chucked it at my opponent and he caught it, as I suspected he would. I jumped high into the air, without flying, making myself a moving target. Goten catapulted the red orb at me and I caught it, but I faked a nasty fall on my knee. So there I sat on my rear end rubbing my not so sore knee.

"Are you okay, Ms. Bra?" I heard in the background, followed by the freckled girl saying, "Mr. Goten is she okay?"

He turned to replay to little girl. "She's just faking Isabel, she'll get up in a sec-" Then BAM! I pitched the ball with super speed and it collided right with his sitdowner. I hopped up from my place on the floor and began doing my 'in your face happy dance of joy'. The kids all ran to me, their savior and light in the darkness, for I have slew Goliath…WooHoo!

"Okay everybody, good game. Now go wash up and make sure your things are in order. Your parents should be here soon." He smiled at the celebrating children. I was surprised to see all the children obediently and without complaint, scatter to do as they were told, leaving Goten and I alone. "So, B," he started digging his hands deep into the pockets of his loose fitting Levi's, "What are you doing here?"

"Playing dodge ball, duh." I innocently answered, punching him lightly in the shoulder.

"That's not what I meant, Bra." He smiled, looking kindly at me with that sweet expression of his and those soft lips that just begged to kissed, "What'cha want?"

I leaned in close to him, whispering in his ear, "I want you in a vinyl suit," then stepping back, I smiled, "but that's not going to happen," at least not tonight, "How about dinner, my treat, anything you want, as long as its pizza."

"You're something else B, let me get everything closed up here and we'll go," he chuckled, running his fingers through his remnants of his moused up spiky locks.

"Great!" I was elated and so relieved that he's not acting schoolboy weird around me, I don't think I would be able to deal with that. So there goes my baby walking out the gym to deal with the last of the kids and his coworkers. Wow! Look at that Grade A hunk of beefcake. I couldn't help but gawk as he left, watching the fluid movement of his gait and the outline of that perfect physique beneath his clothes. Mmm…Complicated and x-rated, I want him bad.

TO BE CONTINUED…

*ototoi koi - bug off, literally disappear yesterday

A/N: I found this kick ass book called 'Zakennayo: The Real Japanese You Were Never Taught In School'. Anyways, I'm gonna try to use some of the interesting lingo in this and future fics and let me say there is some very interesting language and skits, lol.