Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Beyond All Expectations ❯ Game Face ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball, DragonballZ, Dragonball GT or any character associated with said programs or mangas. Oh, and I'm not making any money off my work either.

A/N: I never thought the day would come when I would actually be posting the first chapter of a new story. This one has been in my mind and the outline in my notebook for quite a while now, about a year I think. I hope you enjoy this first taste of things to come. Just please remember not to be too hard on me. This is only my second actual romance after all. Toodles and enjoy!

I guess it was the Buu incident that finally did it for me. I was tired of being beaten to a pulp and/or killed, so I stopped going around my old friends. Not that I had hung around them much before, but I still felt it would be safest to keep some extra distance between us. That way I could at least be blissfully ignorant of any threats to the universe. Who knows? Maybe I was becoming paranoid in my old age.

Was it the right decision? Honestly, I still don't know. Would I change it if I could? No, no way. I can't imagine finding true happiness any other way.

I guess my story starts a few years ago, or at least I'll start there anyway.

Our hometown, just another game, yet another win. Surprise, surprise. The Taitans were once again victorious. Yea.

Honestly, I couldn't have cared less as the joyous team had rushed past me to the locker room, caught up in the excitement, each planning how they would celebrate later that night at local bars and dance clubs, with admiring girls hoping to score with a famous player later that night to tell all her friends about for the next few weeks.

Youth. Truth be told, after so many years in baseball, I had lost interest, bored for the better part of my time in the sport. Nothing could come close to the elation felt after a battle for the fate of the universe swung in your direction after such a near defeat that most of your comrades lay dead or dying at your feet. Baseball was for little boys and their old, tired coaches. The perfect place for me.

Once the doorway cleared, I had made my way into the crowded locker room. Nothing like the salty smell of sweat mixed with a pungent urine odor emanating from the facilities assaulting your nose relentlessly. Oh the glory of athletics. Lovely indeed.

Wishing to be out of there as soon as I possibly could, I made a beeline for my small corner office in the back and began shoving papers into a briefcase, intending to sort them later when I was safely home and away from these insipient fools and their games. Hopefully, I would be able to do so before being spotted by some team member or well-meaning coach full of congratulations. Everyone knew our long winning streak was due to my rigorous, martial arts inspired, training schedule. Thank you good old Master Roshi. You finally did something right.

“Yamcha?” a voice had sounded from the doorway behind me, causing me to grind my teeth in irritation. I had been too slow, and now I was going to pay for that mistake, dearly.

Turning to face the short, balding man with a middle-aged spread behind me, I had forced a sociable smile. “Is there something I can do for you, Harry?” Ironic how a man nicknamed Harry could be more than forty percent bald at only forty some odd years of age while at sixty-one with sixty-two right around the corner, I was barely graying. Nature can be cruel.

Harry had smiled warmly at me as though he thought we were close friends, bosom buddies or some such nonsense. So what if we had played and coached together for years. He didn't know me, and I found his gall at presuming we were anything more than distant acquaintances extremely aggravating.

“I just wanted to know if you had plans tonight, what with today's victory and all,” Harry had finally answered me. How to answer? I certainly did not want to feel obligated to spend time with such a dimwit, but for some reason that silly honor code of mine kept me from lying to him point blank or telling him where he could shove the invitation I knew was looming large in the VERY near future.

“I had planned to go back home and go over the game, play-by-play, so we can work even harder for our game next week,” I had stated simply. I had much better things to do than listen to his prattle turn my brain to mush.

At my announcement, Harry chuckled as if I had said something humorous and shook his head in an almost chiding manner. “Always working,” he had stated pityingly. I did not need his pity. What I needed was for him to leave me in peace to take care of my business.

“Yamcha, old buddy,” Harry stepped forward like he thought he was going slap me on the back or some such nonsense. If that's what he thought, he had another thing coming. No one can go all those years fighting, sparring against Goku and Krillin, and not learn to avoid attacks and many times to reciprocate them as well.

I had raised an eyebrow at him and then moved further behind my desk, looking for the rest of my papers so I could make a break for it the first chance I got.

“I've got an idea,” Harry had continued. I do so love hearing the stupidity continuously flowing from the minds of imbeciles. “You've been doing nothing but working lately. You know what they say. `All work and no play makes for a very dull day.'” Oh really now?

“Why don't you join my wife and me for a celebration dinner tonight? We can talk about the good ole days of baseball when men were men, have a few drinks, eat some fine food, have some good conversation and just relax for a change,” Harry had finally gotten around to the point of his conversation, the dreaded invitation.

I had lifted my eyes again and curtly shook my head. “I don't think so. I have a lot to do, and I'd prefer to get an early start,” I had tried to politely decline.

Much to my ire, the fool had laughed at me.

“See? That's exactly what I'm talking about. You're going out tonight and that's that. Priscilla and I have reservations at the Palm Grove Club tonight, and it just so happens we planned ahead, getting a table for four.

“Dinner starts at 7:30. Don't be late.” Harry had turned and stepped into the doorway before quickly spinning on his heels as if he had forgotten something. “Oh! I forgot to mention. Priscilla arranged getting you a date set up.

“See you at 7:30!” And he was gone, though at that moment, I wasn't exactly sure if that was a good thing. I really didn't want to go, but to simply not show would be plain rude. I was obligated to attend, so I figured I would try to make the best of my situation; I had a dinner date.

Sighing to myself and shaking my head at my predicament, the last of my papers were shoved into my brown leather briefcase. On my way to the door, I stopped and pushing a button, grabbed the disk ejected from the recorder before quickly leaving, ignoring the team's calls as I headed to my estate amid thoughts of what blue-tinted gray horrors that night might hold.

Suit? Check. Hair? I looked closely in the mirror. Check. Teeth? I pulled my brush from its ceramic holder and began scrubbing away. Just because one doesn't want to grace an audience with their presence is no excuse to not at least grace them with minty-fresh breath.

Usual preparations completed amid a million varying thoughts, I had sighed to the mirror. “Time to face the music, I suppose.”

“What did you say?” Puar had questioned me. Even in her old age she had been my constant companion at home and even on my numerous business trips and the rare vacation. Still is in fact.

I had shaken my head. “Nothing, Puar. Just talking to myself.” Another run of a comb through perfectly groomed jet locks accented with a few hints of gray. I was satisfied.

“You've been doing that a lot lately,” Puar commented in an unusually sage-like tone.

Glaring lightly at my oldest friend and companion, I had demanded, “What's that supposed to mean?”

Floating at my eye level, Puar had blinked a few times before shrugging. “Nothing. I'm just glad you're going out.” She tossed my keys toward me, which I caught easily as she floated out of the bathroom's open doorway, allowing me a route of escape. “You could use a little fun.”

Turning away before observing my glare, her body language had ended the conversation. With a soft growl to myself, I turned and left, deciding against pursuing the matter farther. Why did it seem everyone was against me? It almost seemed a conspiracy had formed. Almost.

In my expansive garage, admittedly larger than most people's homes, I chose a new silver Jaguar convertible I had been itching to give a good push out on the open road. Maybe that's what I'd do to release some tension after dinner that night. It might be just what the doctor had prescribed.

Once behind the wheel, I had let my mind free as I drove to what I could only presume was my doom. I could only imagine what kind of woman Harry's wife would set me up with. Images of pruned skin and blue tinted gray hair filled my mind. Very lovely, I can assure you.

As I pulled into the valet drive in front of the club, I glanced at the clock before unlocking the door to enter the building. Seven thirty-eight. I was late. Oops.

Without another thought about my tardy entrance, I headed toward the door, allowing the valet to do his job, tossing “Yamcha” over my shoulder for the name to hold the keys under.

When the door opened, the sweet smells of delicious, zesty dishes hit me, accompanied by the sounds of classy jazz and laughter.

Getting the general direction of my group from the hostess, I headed out in search of agony. I must be a glutton for punishment.

I could not help but find the table by the almost blinding light bouncing off poor Harry's head, which was quite a feat considering how dimly light the place truly was in an effort to retain a romantic air. Whatever works, I suppose.

Silently, I approached - like a true martial arts master - summing up the situation as I did. Almost immediately, I noticed the flowing blonde hair and creamy white shoulders framed by corn silk satin covering the rest of the shapely frame of the woman whom I could only assume was intended to be my date. “Maybe the night won't be a total waste,” I had thought to myself as I approached. At least she did not look like someone's grandmother.

As I moved to the empty chair beside the young woman, I was completely intrigued, and I had yet to even see her face. When she turned eyes matching the satin gown she was wearing toward me, I was so caught up in drinking in every drop of her beauty like a sweet elixir, I barely noticed Harry's second greeting.

Tearing my eyes from the sweet sight of an admittedly much younger beauty, one I would have chased with all my heart's desire when I had been a young buck, I turned to face my adversary, Harry the idiot.

“Haha! You finally made it, ole buddy!” Harry started in a robust manner not unlike his rather abundant girth. “Does Priscilla have good tastes or what?”

I have to admit, I couldn't have agreed more. Priscilla's choice was a true beauty.

“Yamcha, this is Candy. She's my biggest beauty secret. Keeps me looking young,” Priscilla introduced us with a sweet smile.

I nodded my acknowledgement to the older woman. “Thank you very much.” Turning to the now named beauty, I turned on my most charming smile. “It's very nice to make your acquaintance,” I spoke charismatically. Better to keep things formal until I got to know her better.

As I watched, soft, rose lips parted as the angel beside me spoke, “Same to you.”

Of course, Harry had to ruin the moment as I gazed, lost in Candy's eyes. Though before he did, I couldn't help but feel the almost tangible tension between us, an attraction unlike any other I had felt before or since. It was then that I knew I wanted her, wanted to possess her, more than anything or one alive. The Desert Bandit was on the prowl and she was mine. She just didn't know it yet.

“So, what do you think about our chances next week?” Harry just couldn't let anything slide, especially giving up being the center of attention for two seconds.

Stilling an exasperated sigh, I turned my attention to the conversation until dinner was completed, and I felt my head would explode if I were forced to endure one moment more of Harry's stupidity. My savoir, my refuge, was found in the beauty of the elegant creature besides me - sweet as candy.

Harry was rattling on and on about our second string pitcher's improvements over the past few months when by the grace of whatever deity helps Goku always come to the rescue at the last possible moment before certain doom, Priscilla's cell phone rang. I had only to entertain Harry for another moment or two until Priscilla announced the reason behind the call.

“Harry, that was the sitter. We need to head on home. Sam's getting a bit unruly.” Priscilla began gathering her purse for departure.

“Well, I guess our time is up,” Harry chuckled before inhaling the remainder of his meal. “Guess that's the way things are when you become a parent,” he spoke meaningfully as though it were through some fault of my own that the right girl had never come along for me. People never stop to think that some bachelors are just content being bachelors. As long as there is still a skirt or two around to chase, it's really not that bad.

As Priscilla shot her husband a sharp look in consideration of my presence, my newfound angel, who had been noticeably quiet throughout the night as Harry had rambled on, began preparing to leave as well.

I nearly praised Dende aloud when Priscilla interrupted her. “You don't have to leave yet, dear. Don't let us rush you.” I knew there was some reason I liked her.

Then, for the first time in years, I was grateful for Harry's words and suggestion, “Yeah, go ahead and finish your meal. I'm sure Yamcha won't mind dropping you off.”

“Well, I wouldn't want to be a bother,” Candy hesitated in a tone as considerate and sweet as her name implied.

All eyes turned in my direction, and suddenly I was at a loss for words. With a nodding of my head and shrug of my shoulders, I finally answered, “Of-...of course. I don't mind giving you a ride.” I had finally found my speech, my tongue having returned to me.

With a smile, Candy nodded her head in reply. “Thank you. I'd appreciate that.”

Looking into her grateful eyes, I could literally feel years lift from my being as a smile began creeping across my lips.

Before my smile could be fully recognized, Harry once again broke in as he bid us ado. “You two have fun, and I'll see you at the field Monday morning.”

Biting back a feral growl, I nodded. “Monday.”

One last smile and wave from Harry and Priscilla and they were finally gone. I couldn't have been more relieved if it had been Vegeta walking out that door.

Candy continued to eat in silence for a few moments while I stared into my half empty wine glass. Setting her fork onto the table beside her dish, my last remaining company gingerly dabbed her perfectly rosy lips clean.

“I think I'm ready to go now if you are,” she softly spoke.

Smiling kindly at her, I replied with a nod, “Alright.” I quickly finished off my glass and noticing Harry had gotten the entire bill (I suppose he's good for something after all.), I smiled and stood. “I'm ready.”

As Candy reached for her handbag, I moved to help her from her chair. I still had a little gentleman left in me. Besides, chivalry is always a plus when pursuing a woman.

Standing, using my offered hand for support, Candy smiled with a light blush. “Thank you.”

“You still need that ride?” I asked, hoping she would, yet not wanting to be presumptuous.

“Yes, if it's alright. I really don't want to make you go out of your way or anything.” She was so considerate. It isn't everyday you meet a beautiful, gracious young woman who, to top it all off, is exceedingly considerate.

“It certainly isn't.” I smiled and offered her my arm, which she took after a moment's hesitation.

Feeling an unusual giddiness I had lost somewhere along the road of life after the last exit for youthfulness, I tossed a rather generous tip on the table and began leading my new lady friend toward the door, freedom.

The question, “Name?” from a valet waiting beside the door jarred me from my thoughts.

“Yamcha,” I answered, smiling at the woman on my arm.

A few moments later, when my car stopped before us, I heard an audible gasp from sweet Candy.

“That's your car?” Her eyes were wide as she questioned me.

With a chuckle, I responded, “For the past three months, yes.”

“Wow...” She had seemed awestruck as she lightly ran her delicate hand along the shapely ridge on the hood of my Jaguar convertible, just raring to hit the road.

As I opened her door, I smiled at her, “Going to stand there all night, or would you like to go for a spin?”

Candy's face was lit up with her grin as she nodded. “I'd love to!” she exclaimed as she scrambled into the passenger's seat, almost forgetting she was donning an evening gown rather than jeans and a tee shirt. It was obvious she had been uncomfortable all night, out of her element.

Once we were both inside and buckled up, I checked traffic before pulling out into the night.

“Want me to take you straight home?” I questioned at the first stop light, turning onto Seashore Drive, running parallel to the ocean.

Candy shook her head. “Actually, I'd prefer to ride around for a while if that's okay with you. I don't want to keep you out too late or inconvenience you. It was nice of you to agree to bring me home to begin with.”

I looked over at her and with a friendly smile, shook my head. “It's no bother at all. I certainly don't have anything better to do, and tomorrow's schedule is clear. Seems it's your lucky night," and hopefully, mine too.

As we passed the last stoplight in town, I rolled down the windows and the top, letting the salty sea air dance about the plush leather interior.

Candy giggled gleefully as I sped up, nearing the city's limit, whipping the gentle sea breeze into a frenzy. “Faster!” she called out happily.

The young man I had once been, open, unassuming, fun loving, began to reappear after years of oppression from the bitter, withdrawn old hermit who had replaced him after years of life and all the disappointments that came with it.

As the city limit sign came into view, my foot heavy on the gas, my happiness light as a feather with my beautiful young companion by my side, I caught notice of flashing blue and red lights in my mirrors. Glancing back reaffirmed my suspicions. We were being followed by an officer.

“Uhoh...” Candy had sighed as she too took notice of our predicament.

Slowing to a stop as I steered my ride to the shoulder, I remember having tired to recall the last speeding ticket I had been given. It had certainly been a good many years before.

A gruff voice asking for my license and proof of insurance began the process of my being written a ticket for “excessive speeding,” as the officer had put it. To this day, I want to know exactly what qualifies as excessive. I mean, I was only doing about thirty over that night. No big, right?

As the lawman was climbing back into his vehicle to leave, I had checked out the ticket, bursting into laughter.

Poor Candy must have thought I had gone insane as she blinked curiously at me as tears began rolling down my cheeks. “It's-...it's just as speeding ticket,” she had tentatively tried to calm me, her voice bringing me back to the situation at hand as I wiped the tears from my face.

Taking a deep breath, I looked at her beautiful, innocent face. “It's not that. It just-“ I chuckled to myself again, ”It's been a good many years since my hot-rodding days of speeding violations.”

Seeming to understand the source of my amusement, Candy nodded before venturing to ask, “How many years?”

After reflecting a moment, I chose my answer carefully. “More than you would like to know; trust me.”

Seemingly satisfied with my purposely-vague answer, Candy had nodded toward the road. “If you take the next left and follow it back into town, you should have no problems getting back to my place.”

Nodding toward my companion, I started my engine and pulled back onto the two-lane highway only to find myself at Miss Candy's home all too soon.

“This is it,” Candy had chirped as I followed her directions into an increasingly less desirable section of the city. A quick glance around was sufficient. I did not like the neighborhood, not in the least.

“Thank you for the ride,” Candy turned to me and said. “I had a wonderful time.”

I had found myself at a loss of words again momentarily as I simply nodded. “Me, too. Maybe we can do this again sometime,” I dared to hope. I did still have plans to get her pants, mind you.

Bashfully, Candy nodded. “That would be nice.” Turning to look at her home again, she seemed to make up her mind about something. “Would you like to come in?” she spoke boldly.

Looking into Candy's trusting, hungry blue-eyes, I felt something stir within me; yet another emotion which had remained dormant for years after I had given up on love. I couldn't resist her, and against my better judgment, I had found myself not only nodding, but getting out of my car to follow her in before I realized what was happening, way too early in the relationship to get anything more than a one night stand.

Glancing around at the neighboring homes and back to my car, I encapsulated it before rushing to catch Candy, who was just opening the door. I had decided, "What the heck?" This might be my only chance with the beauty. I might as well enjoy it while I had the opportunity.

A light switched on, filling the modest room with a soft yellow glow.

I don't really remember much else. We had sat on her sofa chatting and fidgeting nervously for what seemed a lifetime as we danced around the subject we both wanted, yet were too shy to bring up fully. Once mentioned, our location suddenly changed to her room, a queen-sized bed and passions running wild. The whole world seemed to melt away with all its strife as we lost ourselves in one another.

I awoke the next morning when the sun's rays attacked my closed lids. Blinking my eyes open, the night before came flooding back, and I smiled, gazing at the blonde angel sleeping in my arms.

As I watched Candy sleep, I became increasingly curious about whom exactly my newfound angel might be. What were her interests? Did she have a family? What brand of peanut butter did she buy? Oh, I'm a peanut butter junkie if you're curious.

I certainly couldn't expect to keep the relationship and the hot sex going if I didn't know anything about her. And trust me, after that night, I wanted to keep it going.

After expertly slipping my arms from the beauty, I slowly turned over in the bed to read the clock I had spied the night before on her bedside stand at some point as its harsh red face had penetrated the moment. As I read the time, eight forty-two, sunlight glinting caught my attention. A framed photograph.

Lifting the picture carefully, I peered into it, Candy's family. So, that's who my little morsel was.

A/N: Well, what did you think? (listens) Um...you know I can't hear you, right? That's why you need to REVIEW! Let me know what you think, good or bad. Until the next chapter, I bid you ado.