Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ He Means Business ❯ 12 ( Chapter 12 )

"Trunks," Bulma whispered, rapping on the boy's door. "Trunks!"

 

"Jeez," Trunks opened the door, rubbing his eyes, "Mom. I have school tomorrow, you know?"

 

"And spying for Son and Vegeta," Bulma frowned. Trunks sighed, shrugging. However she'd found out, there was no denying it, anyway. As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes once more, though, he froze, eyes widening. Bulma tapped a finger against his head. "Trunks?"

 

"I-is that..." he started, pointing behind Bulma to a silhouette just beyond the doorway.

 

"Oh, yeah," Bulma grinned, "Raditsu and I have joined forces against Son and your father."

 

Trunks nodded blankly, eyeing Raditsu as he smirked, waving nonchalantly as he leaned against the wall. "Right, okay...er..." He raised his eyebrows to his mother significantly, and she stifled a giggle. "So can I go back to bed now? I have a math test tomorrow and I'm sure you want me to..." he started to turn around.

 

"Now wait right there, mister," his mother grabbed him by the shoulder. "Of course I didn't just wake you up to tell you I knew you were spying. There's something I want," her eyes gleamed, and Trunks shrunk back.

 

"L-like what?" he stuttered. He felt distinctly like her answer might be "your soul" based on her expression, but it was worth asking.

 

"I want you to spy for us," she leaned closer to him, still smirking impishly.

 

He bit his lip and composed himself, stepping a few paces away and crossing his arms. "Well," Trunks finally spoke, "I think that can be arranged. For a price, of course. Goten and I don't come cheap."

 

"Kakarrot's brat? Oh, we don't need him," Raditsu spoke up from the shadows.

 

"Goten and I are a package deal," Trunks asserted, glaring into the darkness.

 

"Fine," Bulma sighed. "Whatever. I have the money. I'm just trying to make it fun, you see?"

 

"Of course," Trunks from one wall of his room to the other, authority in each step. "Well, I'll tell you, it's a risk for us to just turn on our fathers, so this is going to cost you more than it cost them."

 

"Name your price," Bulma crossed her arms, mirroring his pose. "We'll go from there."

 

 

...

 

 

"This is it, Kakarrot...!" Vegeta chuckled. "I think this is it!"

 

"Oh?" Goku leaned over the prince's shoulder. "Wow, Vegeta, that's pretty cool. What is it?"

 

"Just a little subliminal messaging," he chortled.

 

Goku frowned. "I dunno what sub-limo-nal is, but I don't think this is it."

 

"No," Vegeta frowned, "I suppose you're right. More like...hypnosis."

 

"Hm," Goku bit his lip, "but hips and noses are not really that close together, Vegeta. Really, I dunno..." he paused. "But I'll bet I could touch my nose to my hips..." Scratching his head, he started bending over to attempt to do so, and Vegeta smacked him on the back of the head. Goku clutched the injured area. "Ow! Vegeta!"

 

"Stop the nonsense, Kakarrot. Look, that's just one part of the scheme, important though it may be." He rapped on the table, pointing to another drawing he had laid out. "Take a look at this."

 

"Er," Goku tilted his head, observing it. "It looks really...scientific."

 

"Well, what's wrong with that, Kakarrot? Hm?"

 

"Well, um..."

 

"You don't have to be a scientist to embrace scientific innovations!" Vegeta snapped. "Stop questioning my prowess!"

 

"Vegeta..."

 

 

...

 

 

"And that," Bardock concluded, "is how I met the guy who invented the artificial moon."

 

"Interesting," King Vegeta raised his eyebrows, lifting his cape as he stepped over some particularly tall and prickly bushes. "I never had a chance to award him with...something or another."

 

"Oh, yes," the other Saiyajin hovered over the same bush, and King Vegeta rolled his eyes, "well, there's a reason for that."

 

"Of course; he met a premature death, as do most Saiya—"

 

"I killed him."

 

"Oh—wait—that was you?"

 

"Yup," Bardock grinned. "Sure was."

 

"So, what, did you run around taking all the credit for having invented the artificial moon, being the only man alive to know its secret?"

 

"Nope."

 

"Oh."

 

 

...

 

 

"What, Kakarrot? What? You disbelieve the genius of my invention?"

 

"No!" Goku threw his arms out in surrender. "No way, Vegeta! I'm nowhere near as smart as you!"

 

"Good."

 

"Only..."

"Only what, Kakarrot?"

 

"Only, if that's a magnet, and those are littler magnets, shouldn't all the cross-marks be facing toward the slash-marks?"

 

"Those are pluses and minu—wait." He froze.

 

"I mean, everybody knows that the cross-marks always point at the slash-marks! Right? It's okay Vegeta, I probably got it wrong." He paused as Vegeta remained still. "Really, I mean, um, I just thought...'cause...I was looking over Gohan's shoulder once at a book and..." Still stone. "Um...y'know...never mind Vegeta, I think I'm wrong. I'm just gonna go and get a snack from our dessert shop, 'kay? I'll be gone a few minutes." He unassumingly scooted an eraser closer to the prince before striding out the door.

 

 

...

 

 

"And don't forget, Trunks!" Bulma called after him as he left for school, waving a stack of paper money. "It's all yours if you've got something good for me when you come home!"

 

He smirked and tossed her a thumbs-up.

 

 

...

 

 

"And what are you doing, boy?" Vegeta strode into the room just in time to find Trunks and Goten leaning over his papers, shuffling through them.

 

"Don't you owe me some money?" Trunks asked absently, glancing over the papers.

 

"Don't believe so," the prince growled.

 

"We're here for some muffins!" Goten piped up, and Trunks smirked at him.

 

"Well they sure as hell aren't on my desk," he snatched the papers away from his son. "Try across the street in the dessert shop."

 

"Good point," Trunks crossed his arms. "But, say, where's Goten's dad?"

 

"Out," Vegeta grumbled. "Assumedly acquiring muffins."

 

"Well, since we're here," Trunks strolled around the desk to lean against it, facing his father. "I'll lay it out for you plain and simple. Mom hired us as spies."

 

"Trunks—" Goten whined, frowning. "You're not supposed to do that..."

 

"Continue," Vegeta raised an eyebrow.

 

"But to be honest, the pay isn't the best, and we like you better than her. We'd only ask a little extra from you to make up for what I'm giving up."

 

"Boy, you are pushing it too far—"

 

"We think that it's fair," Trunks coughed. "Don't we, Goten?"

 

"Y...yes?"

 

"Yes. See? Come on, Dad. Besides, I might be able to find a little extra information for you in the meantime, while she thinks I'm working for her."

 

"A fair point," Vegeta growled. "Fine. A bit more. But you'd better come back with some damn good information for me, boy."

 

"Trust me, Dad, we'll get you something good."

 

"Yeah, Dad!"

 

"Goddammit, whelp!"

 

A bell tinkled as the door swung open, and Goku poured one last cake into his mouth as Trunks and Goten sprinted out before it swung shut behind him. "Did I miss anything?"

 

 

...

 

 

"This is the fifth time today!" King Vegeta threw his hands into the air as Bardock collapsed onto the ground. He picked the man up and threw him over his shoulder, shaking his head. Only moments later, however, the other Saiyajin's eyes snapped open.

 

"Suckers!" he blurted.

 

 

...

 

 

"You're not gonna believe this," Trunks chuckled, dumping his backpack onto the kitchen table and fishing out a paper. "I copied it down before he got back from wherever he went, but he thinks he caught us before we found anything."

 

"That's my boy," Bulma ruffled his hair, reaching for the paper. As she glanced them over, she whistled and showed them to Raditsu, who, after a few moments, simply shrugged.

 

"Well, it looks fancy," he grumbled.

 

"Right," Bulma nodded, "I keep forgetting, you can't read—like Son."

 

"Stop comparing me to him!"

 

Bulma waved her hand, and continued to eye the diagram, muttering to herself with a smile. "Oh, Vegeta, you think you're so clever. You never would have been able to afford to do this." She blinked. "And you didn't even draw the magnetic poles correctly..."

 

"I noticed that!" Goten piped up. "It's like how they showed us in school, the pluses are supposed to go to the minuses!" Raditsu nodded.

 

"By the way," Trunks stuffed his hands into his pocket. "There's another page."

 

"Yeah?" Bulma held out her hand.

 

"Yeah."

 

"Well, give it to me!"

 

"This one's worth more than what you're giving us," Trunks continued to crumple the page. "We're going to have to ask you for more."

 

"More?" Bulma crossed her arms. "How do I know that's not just a blank piece of paper?"

 

Trunks pulled it from his pocket, waving it to reveal that it was covered in text. Raditsu made a grab for it, but Trunks ducked away effortlessly, leaving Raditsu to stumble across the room. Brushing himself off, he paced back over to Bulma as inconspicuously as he could manage.

 

"How am I supposed to believe that it's worth it?"

 

"Either you trust us or you don't."

 

"What if I don't?"

 

Trunks raised his eyebrows, throwing his hand over his forehead and sighing melodramatically. "Your only son!"

 

"Sons are replaceable," Raditsu cracked his knuckles, but Bulma held her arm in front of him.

 

"Trunks, if this is not worth it, so help me god, your life will be a living hell. Don't forget that you live in my house, boy!"

 

He nodded solemnly, but shot a sly grin to Goten. "So, you want it?"

 

Raditsu frowned, glancing toward Bulma. "You know, I—"

 

"What's your price?" she crossed her arms, sending him a defiant glare.

 

Trunks grinned.