Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Chinks in Android Armor ❯ Android 17's search ( Chapter 7 )

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, it belongs to Toei Animation Co. Ltd. and was created by Akira Toriyama. However, the Oc's Bakelite, Polly Atomica, Infrared, and Melmac are mine as is the plot of this fan fiction. It means no harm to the awesome anime and manga! I make no money from this! This is the next chapter in a character piece dealing with Cyborg 17 and with 18.

 

Love is not a Virus

 

By Trynia Merin

 

A character piece dealing with Cyborg 17.

Thursday, May 24, 2007

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Next day another unexpected phone call filled Dr. Polly Atomica with rage. Only a week after Goku's funeral an officer slapped legal papers in her hand, which caused her to explode. She had not told Krillin the entire story, not wishing to destroy his newfound happiness with Android 18. Bulma had been quick on the phone with the best lawyers but there was nothing she could do.

 

Polly wasn't sure where else to go, holing up in her apartment that night. Article clippings scattered around a scrapbook with pictures of family and friends on the carpeted floor of her living room. Down the hall was an empty bedroom. Picking up a stuffed teddy bear, Polly hugged it to her chest tightly. She picked up a glass in her other hand and sipped the red liquid swirling inside it. Red wine always took the edge off her messed up life. Shattered pieces of glass lay across the newspaper scraps and the photos of her daughter she tried to press in the scrapbook.

 

Dr. Izen Berg, her ex husband had gone too far. Angrily she hurled the picture of him with her daughter across the room. Glass shattered, and Polly flopped into a chair.

 

"Stupid bastard. Saying I'm an unfit mother? Was it MY fault I got eaten by some fucking goddamn monster?" she cursed.

 

Living in the now was all she could manage. Through the misery, she fought the images crashing through her mind. Screams of horror and pain echoed in her nightmares and now crowded her waking mind. Somehow, he must have learned of her spells and flashbacks. Maybe that was why CPS had come calling, dragging her child away to foster care while Bulma's lawyers struggled to fix the legal tangle her life had become. She was considered dead for more then a week and now presuming she could just start living again was too high of an expectation.

 

"Nothing she can do and she's the richest woman in the planet! That fucking bastard of an EX. She's just a child!" Polly murmured. Holding the wineglass, she stared into its depths. The face of a haggard woman who had only ten hours of sleep in forty-eight hours stared back at her. It was not Bulma's fault that CPS had come and taken Curie from her home yesterday under the auspices of a court order.

 

Custody of her child was tenuous at best, considering she was a working mother. While the custody was not contested the first few years, for some reason she had guessed her ex husband would pull a stunt like this when she found out he'd remarried. Miss Root had said many a time she had overheard strange conversations when she cared for the girl over at his place. She served as a nanny often for the Professor, and it was she who had been hired in the first place by Mrs. Briefs to care for Trunks before her parents knew about him.

 

"Unfit mother. Maybe they're right. What kind of a mother lets herself get eaten and leaves her daughter for ten fucking days," Polly wondered. She slammed the wineglass down on the coffee table so hard the bottle rattled. Grabbing the teddy bear, she hugged it tightly and squeezed her eyes shut. She curled up in the fetal position on the sofa and let her tears roll freely.

 

Finally, she set the teddy aside and stood up. Something had alerted her that she wasn't alone. The seeds of a memory before the nightmare of Cell fell into place. Those times before when she was alone late at night, someone else had been watching from midair. It had been two weeks since hearing any sign of him, yet she knew she had a spectator to everything. Why wouldn't he be a man and come to her when she needed someone the most. It was his damn fault her life was in pieces to begin with.

 

"Show yourself. I know you're there," she said. Whirling around she saw nothing but the stars peeking through the haze of sodium lamps from the spires of West City. With a sigh, she strode to the balcony of her apartment and flung open the French doors. Wind whipped her dark hair around her face, sighing its lonely message through the rattling trees and among the ultramodern domes spread in the twinkling answer to the sky above.

 

"Smart lady," said the voice she knew as well as her own. She glanced up to see him hovering at the level of her balcony. For a whole minute, she froze in place under the icy gaze inflaming a desire she had pushed far to the back of her screwed up life. That same night wind whipped his fall of dark raven hair around his smug angular face. Metal on his belt buckle and other parts of his trendy clothes gleamed orange and other shades of darkness. His long duster coat swirled around his jeans clad legs.

 

"You bastard, where the hell were you?" she cursed, gripping the balcony railing.

 

"Around here or there. You really think I'd hang out in such a lame place as this. I'm not exactly mister popularity lately," 17 said, folding arms over his chest.

 

"I hate you, you piece of shit," she whispered.

 

"Temper, temper Doc. Is that any way to speak to someone who saved that ass of yours?" he asked.

 

"Save me? The arrogance of you just blows my mind! How DARE you claim ANY measure in saving my life that you endangered! You let him absorb you! When you could have fought you just GAVE UP!" she screamed, shaking her fist.

 

"You think I had a choice?" 17 asked coldly, resting his hands at his hips. This time he wore leather gloves that clenched in fists.

 

"There's ALWAYS a choice. Even if it's not a good one you could have fought!" she shouted, hurling something at him. He dodged away with a smirk, and then levitated up. She gasped as two hands grabbed her upper arms and spun her around.

 

"Says you. You have no idea what you're talking about."

 

"Why are you here, you delinquent? After all you've put me through tell me ONE good reason why I shouldn't send you packing!" Polly yelled.

 

"Because you like me. You can't help but admit that at some level you miss me. Weak human emotions aside I can't blame you for such a choice. But you should be thanking me," 17 said smoothly.

 

"For WHAT?" she spat.

 

Seventeen wiped away the spittle that had landed on his face. Slowly he licked his lips and caught the hand that flashed out to slap him. "Don't break your hand, Doc. You know that won't work with me."

 

"You fucking bastard," she gritted. "Let me go!"

 

"Are you sure you want that? It's been a while since we've last chatted. The least you can do is invite me in for a drink. Or are you someone who doesn't give a shit about manners anymore?" he asked.

 

"Don't you play games with me, Juunana-gou!" she snarled.

 

"I like games, and I know you do too. Or else you wouldn't have even come out here. You know I've been watching your every move. Seeing how you've been dicked over by Capsule and your so-called friends. Where were they when you got your butt absorbed by cell, huh?"

 

"You weren't anywhere near!"

 

"Why do you think I CAME and absorbed you? HE could have killed you, you know," 17 said, grabbing her wrists and holding her firmly enough to stop her, but not with enough force to hurt.

 

The force of his words and the sturdiness of his body stopped her next tirade. Instead, she said, "Wait, what are you talking about?"

 

With a small knowing smile across his face 17 continued, "You know, you know. You're a scientist. Don't tell me you don't remember every minute that THING had you, had US inside it. You can't eat or sleep without seeing the faces of everyone he killed. Moreover, part of you likes it while the rest mourns. In addition, nobody ELSE in the world gets it. They think you're insane. Unfit to be a member of society."

 

"How would you know about that?" she heard herself ask even though she knew the answer well enough.

 

17's black bangs puffed out with the disgusted snort he made. Impatiently he glared at her with those crystalline blue eyes. Bringing his face close so his breath pulsed against her face he said, "I was there, Doc. With you, every stinking minute Cell had us. And it wasn't one of my brighter ideas to let him have control. He was a bit stronger then I thought. Clever bastard. However, I'm here, and so are you. He didn't destroy you or me. So you should thank me for your life."

 

"The Dragon Balls brought me back, Juunana-gou. Not you."

 

Tightening his grip on her wrists, he pulled her so their noses touched. In a voice barely above a whisper he said, "Oh then who saved your sanity?"

 

"Wait a minute," Polly protested.

 

Smoothly 17's voice rolled from his thin yet handsome lips, "I'm the only one who gets you, Doc. Because you're the only one who gets me. Just like that bald freak is the only one my dear sister gets. And she left me for him."

 

"Come on, you know that you both hate each other's guts," she snorted unimpressed.

 

Frustrated, 17 released his hold and stepped back. This time when she tried to dart around him, he blocked her path to the open French doors. Like dark wings, his duster coat fluttered from his outstretched arms barring any escape. "She's still my sister, as fucked up as our family is. If I didn't give a shit, would I be here, Doc?"

 

Polly stepped back then hugged herself since nobody else offered her physical comfort. Despite her fury, seeing 17 brought her immense relief. In his own way, he must be trying to reach out to her. Still she had her doubts and had to ask, "You only care about power. Human emotions are too lame for you, Juunana-gou, am I right?"

 

17 narrowed his eyes to slits. Like an angry cat, he almost spat his next words right into her face. For each step back he moved dangerously close to her so, his face filled her entire field of view. Only the collision of her mid back with the high metal railing reminded her they were several floors up from the pavement. She was a captive audience, fearing for her life at the inhuman doll seizing her chin in his fingers. "Maybe it's not emotions. Maybe it's just curiosity or fun. I don't know WHY I… I mean look, it's pissing me off. And since you're so fucking smart I thought you'd have some answers WHY," 17 started.

 

"I hate you," she said, narrowing her eyes. Bringing up her hands, she pushed hard against his chest.

 

"Liar," 17 laughed and jerked her body forwards. Crushed to a hard male chest she felt his lips choke off her reply. Impossibly strong hands held her as he devoured her in a kiss that inflamed passion locked away. All the fury and hatred towards the mess of her life burst forth and she grabbed his face hard, returning his kiss.

 

Only to let her breathe did 17 break the kiss, regarding her with a smug look as he pushed his hips to hers. Her breath came in long pants and her brown eyes dilated with passion. Long ago, she had made an unspoken rule not to reveal person life with a man who was only a sex partner. Keeping everything physical made things less complicated, and 17 understood this from his own experiences. Yet she broke that rule now. Unable to stop herself she blurted out, "That son of a bitch took my daughter."

 

"I saw. You should use that pistol you keep under your pillow," 17 said. "If you'd just opened your eyes and noticed I've been hanging out here the last week I could have vaporized their asses."

 

"Why didn't you?"

 

"Because I like watching you pissed off. It turns me on," 17 laughed, kissing her again. Angrily she bit at his tongue and he kept his lips fused to hers, not letting go.

 

17 grabbed her up, pulling one of her thighs around his slender hip. Though she was larger then he, the cyborg easily curled her thigh around his hip, and then gripped her backside. With his other hand, he grabbed her wrist and wrapped it around his neck, then pulled the other to rest on his backside. Hand on the underside of her thigh he jammed his crotch tightly to hers showing his excitement.

 

Polly Atomica drowned in the passion, letting 17 scoop her off her feet and wrap her other leg around his thighs so he could press tightly to her. Their bodies molded together as 17 carried her into the apartment. He stopped to slide the door shut and then carry her back to her bedroom. Past the room that still held stuffed animals they moved, and she cried. 17 noticed her sorrow and distracted her with another passionate kiss.

 

17 playfully tossed her into the center of the bed. She looked up at him with passion-slatted eyes. He slowly slid his coat off, licking his lips with a pink distracting tongue. Grinning he pounced on her, and she was pinned by his slender thighs bracketing her hips. Reaching up she grabbed the bandanna around his neck and yanked him downwards. Attacking his lips with hers, she thrust her tongue into his mouth and tasted copper electricity.

 

His gloved hands unbuttoned her clothes and removed them. He pulled her hands to the edge of his shirt, his blue eyes challenging her to pull the cloth out of his jeans. Untying his scarf, she then pulled his shirt up and he straightened up to shrug it off with deliberate slowness. A smooth hairless chest with muscle beneath it was revealed, and she knew there was difficulty telling where the human began and the machine ended. Soon he tore her bra and panties off, and she helped him shimmy out of the tight jeans and shoes. He only wore the finest black silk boxer briefs, which he moved off her to slowly, pull down with one thumb. All thoughts of madness escaped with the blue-eyed heated gaze pinning her there. All she wanted was 17 at that moment.

 

Like a serpent he sinuously glided back to the bed and crawled overtop her. She parted her legs, reaching up to pull him down and roll him over. Again, he flipped them and his hands caressed each curve while her fingers explored his angles. They were both very different shapes but the seamless whole they made when he slid into her moist interior was greater then the sum of the two lovers. 17 groaned with relief to feel her hot tightness around his erection. With precise control only an artificial human could muster, he thrust hard into her. Not bothering to touch her clit he relied on the angle of his penetration alone to bring her to climax. Holding her legs on his hips, he levitated slowly above the bed, and she locked her hands with his. He swung back and forth, and then smiled when she brought her legs to hang over his narrow shoulders.

 

A thin film of energy seemed to crackle around her. Then her own orgasm burst through and 17 stopped to let her ride through it. He smirked at the pleasure he could distract her with. The real reason for his appearance was almost forgotten in the rush of their lovemaking. Horrible nightmares that claimed his sleep were the same as the ones she battled daily. United in flesh it somehow lessened the horrible emptiness 17 felt since he was spat out from Cell and brought back to life.

 

Sighing she lay intertwined with his young body. 17 stroked his fingers through her soft hair, feeling accepted by the one human who 'got' him. While he didn't care one way or the other if he understood things like love, he enjoyed the sex. Either way, he was loath to let her go again when they had shared something most had never done. A piece of her soul was in his, and he knew that she had part of his. A juvenile delinquent turned cyborg now had a bond with a middle-aged red ribbon soldier turned capsule scientist.

***