Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Plotting to Win ❯ Who Ya Gonna Call ( Chapter 3 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z and its characters are owned by several people, including Akira Toriyama, Shonen Jump, Bird Studios, Toei, Viz, and Funimation. In other words, it doesn't belong to me. No money was made from the creation of this story, and in fact money was lost from the use of utilities needed to power the laptop I work on.

Chapter 3: Who Ya Gonna Call?

Morning. Goten hated mornings. He contemplated that thought as he lay stretched out fully clothed a top the covers. Mornings brought awkward moments with mumbled goodbyes and hasty retreats. While he was a master of the nighttime banter, Goten sucked at the morning after. Which was one reason why Goten never brought a woman home with him? He never knew what to say to make the girl leave. Only twice had he brought a woman home to his small, one-bedroom apartment and both times he had felt extremely out of place in his own home. After the second time, he had vowed never again to bring a woman home with him. He had stuck to that vow.

Sighing, Goten rolled on his side and looked out the window. His mind kept replaying the conversation with Bra the previous night as well as Trunks' challenge. He didn't know why he had underestimated Bra so badly. He had gone into the challenge thinking that she would be like all of the other girls he wooed. But she hadn't acted like either a simpering co-ed who was impressed by his minor martial arts titles or the bored haus-frau who was impressed with his muscles or the man-eater who was just in to get her jollies and go home. Instead, Bra had been turned off by the flowery phrases he reserved for the co-eds and his body did not impress her. Nor had he really expected it to, after all she had grown up with one serious fighter as well as a part-time one. Which didn't give him a lot of ground to work with.

How do you woo and win the girl who has everything and knows all of your tricks? That was the real question. He thought about it for a time and remembered something his father had told him. 'When faced with a new bad guy, always go back to the basics.' Well, one of the basics of dating was sending gifts. Candy and stuffed animals he ruled out immediately. Too much like bribing a child and he did not want Bra to think that he thought of her as a little girl. This left flowers.

Smiling at his logic, Goten reached for his little black book. Under 'F,' he found what he was looking for, a small flower store that specialized in unusual arrangements. He dialed the number.

"Thank you for calling Fresh Feisty Flowers!" a cheerful, female voice chirped. "This is Denia. How can I help you?"

Goten's mind blanked. His normal flower arrangement of forget-me-nots and yellow rosebuds would not be appropriate. "I . . . Uh . . . I don't know. What do you have in season?"

"Oh we have pretty much everything in season here in our greenhouse. Is there anything in particular you are looking for?"

"No. I just wanted to send flowers to a girl and I don't want to send the typical rose bouquet."

"Ah, a gentleman of distinction."

"I'd like to think so."

"Have you considered orchids or perhaps lilies?"

"Hmmmmm . . . not really. They're a bit common and I don't want to seem like I am just settling for the old tired arrangements. What about lilacs? Do you have those?"

"Let me check, sir," she said and then Goten heard some pseudo-jazz as he was put on hold. Wracking his memory, he tried to remember what his first girlfriend had taught him about the language of flowers. A light flashed and Goten knew what arrangement he wanted.

The music stopped and the perky voice came back on the line. "Yes, sir. We do have some lilacs coming into bloom. Anything else?"

"Do you know if you have any orange blossoms and violets?"

"The violets, yes. I would have to check on the orange blossoms."

"If you don't have them, it's ok. Do you think that you could do a lilac and violet bouquet with a few ferns to set off the flowers?"

"Almost certainly. Did you want to pick up the arrangement or have it delivered?"

"Delivered, please. And can you include a card with it that says 'Thank you for the dance' with it?" he asked.

"Of course! Is that all?"

"Yes," he answered, and then winced when she quoted the price back at him. But he agreed, hoping that the unusualness of the flowers would please and intrigue Bra. He gave her his payment information and then thanked her for her assistance before setting the phone back down onto the cradle.

Now what?

He needed to rethink his strategy. Flattery was not going to work. That was made abundantly clear last night. Neither was his physique or his athletic prowess. He was not intelligent like Trunks or Gohan. Unfortunately that didn't leave him too many options. What he needed was some help. Unconsciously, he dialed Trunks' private phone line.

A groggy voice answered on the fourth ring. "What?"

"Aren't we cheerful this morning?"

"Goten? What the fuck are you doing calling me at 8:30 on a fucking weekend?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"And apparently you felt the need to wake me up and join you in the land of insomnia."

Goten winced at Trunks tone. "Sorry."

"You should be. So why are you calling and what kept you up all night?"

"The same thing. Bra."

"And you called me?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Why?"

"'Cause you're my best friend and I needed to talk about this to someone."

"Goten, I think that you need to have your head examined."

"Why?"

"You're thinking about the bet right?"

"Yeah."

"And you want help figuring out what to do, right?"

"Uh-huh!"

Trunks sighed. "Goten, who posed the bet to you?"

"You."

"So why do you think I am going to help you?"

Goten realized that he hadn't considered all of the implications behind his accepting this dare of Trunks'. For the first time since the tournament when they were children, Trunks was not on his side. He didn't know what to do, but he decided to see if he could get any information out of Trunks anyway.

"Please. Just a few questions?"

Trunks sighed again and muttered about idiocy that seemed to be passed from father to son. "Ok ask me three questions and I will answer one of my choosing."

"No fair! Four out of five," he countered, quickly. He was used to this bargaining game with Trunks.

"Two out of Five, that is it."

"Three out of five!"

"Goten . . ."

"Okay. Okay. Two out of five."

"You know, that this is all the help you are going to get from me. Got it?"

"Got it!"

"Okay, ask away."

Goten thought about his five questions. He knew that he needed to make them good ones otherwise he would be in the dark and he needed to pick questions that Trunks couldn't just answer with a yes or a no.

"Um . . . I guess these are the things I want to know. What kind of guys does Bra hang out with? What does she like to do? What kind of music does Bra listen to? Does she have black underwear? What does she think of me?"

"I think you can rule out the underwear question. Why in the hell would you want to know? And why do you think that I would know this? Do you think that I raid my sister's room for fun?"

"You used to."

"No, actually we used to. There's a difference."

"How?"

"Cause I never went in by myself. And we only did it 'cause she had raided my room and took my stuff. It was a rescue mission."

"Whatever. You're stalling. Answer my questions."

"I'm thinking. Give me a minute."

Trunks was silent for a long period of time. Goten could hear him shifting on his bed as his best friend decided which questions he was going to answer.

"Okay, you got me. You knew that I wasn't going to answer the underwear one."

"Yup."

"And you know that I am not going to tell you how she feels about you. I could lie, you know."

"But you won't. You said that you would answer two of my questions."

"I never said I would answer them honestly."

"True, but you don't like to lie. Remember that even though I am not as smart as you, Trunks. I still know you really good."

"Well, Goten. You know me 'really well.'"

"That's what I said."

Trunks drew a deep breath and expelled it noisily. "I don't know why I even bother."

"Okay, so answer the two questions."

"Ok Bra listens to a lot of different music. She likes stuff with a heavy beat for dancing and working out. But she prefers softer stuff with either female singers or straight instrumental when she is in her room by herself. She hates nasal voices and music that sounds like screaming."

"Okay. Next question."

"She doesn't hang out with guys."

"What?"

He heard the other man chuckle. "What? You weren't expecting me to answer that one were you?"

"No!"

"Bra doesn't hang out with guys. She's never even dated seriously."

"Why not?"

"Ah. Ah. That's another question. And I am not answering anymore questions."

"But Trunks, you can't leave it like this!"

"Yes, I can. And on that note, I think I am going to go back to bed. Goodbye, Goten."

"Trunks wait!" he cried, frantically. But the angry buzzing of the dial tone was Trunks response. He had used up all of his questions and really had nothing to show for it.

Now what could he do? Trunks was obviously out of the question, his friend would likely hang up on him again. All of his female acquaintances were out of the picture as well. At least the ones that still spoke with him, and he doubted that even Paris, his one time girlfriend and now friend would help him seduce another woman. Women just weren't like that, he'd discovered. They saw all other females as competition.

So where did that leave him? Goten groaned and flopped back down on the bed. He sighed and his eyes lit upon the picture on his end table. His family.

He finally knew who he could go to. Without thinking of calling first, Goten ran out to the balcony and blasted off into the air.

He was going home!

~*~

AN: I had intended the conversation between Trunks and Goten to be a lot shorter. Like maybe only a fifth of what it turned into. But Trunks demanded his time. And who am I not to listen to my characters. Which meant that this scene was a lot longer than planned. So I decided to move the next part of my outline to chapter four and post this by itself.

I think it works.

The title of the song is once again inspired by a song. This time "Ghostbusters" by Ray Park. A line that Joss Whedon in all of his infinite glory said of "It can never be used again." This was in a season seven Buffy episode whose name I have forgotten.

Thank you to all of my readers. I'm hoping you are having as much fun reading it as I am writing it.

Until next time! ^_^