Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Trinity ❯ Chapter 8 ( Chapter 8 )

Trinity

Author: Xero Sky

Pairings: Vegeta, Vejitto, and Goku, or various combinations thereof. Lightly implied het, OMG!

Warnings: YAOI AU, lemon, language, violence, at some point. Silliness here and there. Intelligent Goku. Plus whatever warning's appropriate to intimate contact between a fusion and his separate selves . . . O.o

Note: Since Vegeta's height varied in the manga and the anime, I'm taking my own liberties with it here. This chapter is dedicated to Ginia, who sporked me so nicely in person about it.

Disclaimer: All copyrights belong to their appropriate owners. No profit is intended from this work of fan fiction.

Chapter 8

Son Goku sat on the doorstep of his former master's house and sighed. He rested his elbows on his knees and let his head sink into his hands. He was having a long and confusing day.

Despite this, he was a rather fetching sight. He'd neglected to put his shirt back on, and so the muscles of his arms and shoulders were on display. Long fingers were buried in wild yet silky black hair. Even depressed, he appeared a fine specimen of manhood. To a few discerning souls, the fact that he wasn't a man at all made him even more appealing. To the true connoisseur of fine male flesh, very little surpassed a saiyajin in top form.

Goku, of course, was oblivious. He was brooding.

His firstborn son was surfing. Son Gohan was several yards out to sea at the moment, walking on the water. He probably shouldn't have been able to control his ki that finely in his current state, but it didn't really seem to be a problem for him. He was, in fact, surfing. He would run, jump on a likely wave, and ride it into shore. Then, with a huge splash, he'd jump off and roll around in the water a bit before drying himself off with ki and running out to do it again.

Gohan's laughter was almost contagious. Despite himself, Goku smiled, though he didn't look up. He had a number of things to work out in his head at the moment, foremost among them the question of how he was going to keep his family from self-destructing.

The Vejitto thing… Was it wrong that he couldn't quite bring himself to regret what he'd done, even with all the trouble it was causing? He shivered a little, thinking about strong but gentle hands on his skin, and the way a simple kiss had made him feel so warm. At some point, he was going to have to deal with the tangled feelings Vejitto provoked in him. If the saiyajin had been an enemy, he would have known what to do. As it was, he hadn't the faintest clue.

In time he would understand his troubled heart and know what course to take. Then he would try to do the best for everyone.

First, however, he had to face the awesome task of sneaking his drunken offspring past his darling wife.

His dear wife, who had once been kicked through a wall by super saiyajin Goten and walked away from it.

His sweet wife, who had once leaped over his own broken body without so much as a glance so that she could get to Gohan.

His scary wife, who would gladly kill him once she saw the hickey on his neck.

Goku was not a stupid man, but neither was he particularly good at scheming. He was excellent at fighting; he was an artist in the truest sense when it came to violence. Chichi wasn't any smarter than he was, but she moved in a world where his strong points meant very little. Knowing that he'd already committed an unpardonable sin made it even harder to figure out how to get around her. He felt like his guilt was a brand on his forehead that would draw her attention, making it even *more* likely that she'd see right through any plan he came up with.

He watched as Gohan belly-flopped into the surf, digging a crater into the wet sand that the sea rushed to fill. His son did not immediately reappear, but Goku wasn't worried. His sons were only partly of this planet; it could not kill them.

He wondered if some of the distance between himself and Chichi came from how they thought of their children. He knew that his sons were virtually indestructible, and that he'd be with them if they were in any real danger. Goku had been self-sufficient from a very young age, and he couldn't really imagine that the boys were any different. Chichi was proud of their strength, but she also thought they needed constant care and discipline to get them through "real" life.

Now that he thought about it, he and Chichi didn't really live in the same world much at all.

But there really wasn't much point in brooding over it now. He had to figure a way to get his giddy son home without bringing Chichi's extra special brand of hell down on the boy.

It made his head hurt, and he suddenly came to a decision.

Goku walked out into the water and pulled his happy, sodden son from it. He dried them both with a pulse of ki, and then pressed his fingertips to his forehead.

In his world, there was really only one place to go when you needed a clever plan.

*****

Bulma watched as Yamucha carefully spread ice cream on the chocolate chip cookie, topped it with a second cookie, and then managed somehow to stuff the whole thing in his mouth. Giggling, she held out a hand for the spoon.

"Gimme. I can so do that."

Trying not to laugh and choke to death, Yamucha handed the spoon over and watched as the one true love of his life put together a cookie sandwich and crammed it into her mouth all at once.

It was very late or unspeakably early, depending on ones point of view, and the two people in Bulma's kitchen were the only ones up in the sprawling Capsule Corp complex.

Spotlessly clean tile and steel gleamed around them. The kitchen had been built to handle the needs of multiple saiyajins, and it had much more in common with a large restaurant than a family kitchen. Nevertheless, this was Bulma's home, and both she and Yamucha were comfortable in the slight intimacy of the breakfast nook.

The two of them had been seeing more of each other lately. She'd had him over tonight to test some equipment for her. His astounding strength was well out of the range of normal humans, but he actually was human, unlike her son and his father, and he gave her useful data.

The tests were also a ploy for inviting him over, and they both knew that.

Bulma's relationship with Vegeta had grown cooler and more vague over the years, especially since Trunks' birth, but it was an amicable sort of fading. They'd had a fairly passionate love affair, but once those flames had abated somewhat, they really hadn't had much in common besides Trunks.

Trunks was fortunate in his parents. They weren't in love, but they did love him, and they were comfortable enough with each other to stay together for him. They lived separate lives, together, in the same sprawling house, and were content with that.

Although, one could never be completely sure about Vegeta…

As it turned out, Yamucha's own life had left him alone around the time that Bulma and Vegeta apparently came to their current understanding.

A few phone calls, a few blushing meetings, a few painful injections, a few reams of test data, and now here they were, happily stuffing their faces together.

Their eyes met, and Bulma lowered hers demurely, gazing at him from beneath dark blue lashes. Yamucha smiled and blushed slightly, then reached out and wiped a dribble of ice cream from her chin.

"Bulma…" he began softly, ignoring the fact that she was still trying to gulp down the rest of the cookies and ice cream. "I…"

"Bulma… I need your help!" Goku wailed loudly as he and his firstborn materialized in the middle of the kitchen.

"Bulma, I…" Gohan managed to say before collapsing on the floor and throwing up all over the gleaming tilework.

Yamucha and Bulma stood up quickly, their chairs screeching as they scrambled backwards away from Gohan.

Bulma's eyes bulged for a second, but then her brow furrowed and she finally forced down the last of the cookies. "Goku! What's wrong? Is Gohan okay?"

"And why do you have a hickey?" Yamucha blurted out.

Goku scratched the back of his head and tried to smile. "Um, well, it's a funny story, actually. I probably destroyed my marriage, Gohan's drunk off his ass, and I, uh… well, Vejitto and I sort of, uh…"

"Had wild monkey sex!" Gohan said, giggling for a second before heaving again.

Bulma and Yamucha gaped at them. Goku smiled at them faintly, slowly turning deeper crimson and basically confirming what his son had said.

Bulma sat down heavily in her chair. "Well, that's a change of pace."

"Oh, hey, is that ice cream?" Goku asked suddenly, feeling a sudden and overwhelming need to change the subject to something less embarrassing. Besides which, he hadn't eaten anything in hours.

Yamucha sighed and handed the whole bowl over. At least tonight was looking up for someone.

*****

Elsewhere, there was also predictable behavior.

"Quit staring at my ass," Vegeta snarled.

"If you didn't insist on flying in front, I wouldn't have to, now would I?" Vejitto said lightly.

"That's a pathetic excuse, pervert."

"Hey, you know where I got it from."

"So you say. Kakkarot hid it well."

Vejitto laughed and then spiraled forward until he was even with his prince. "Beat you there!" he said, putting on even more speed.

"Asshole!" Vegeta yelled at him before trying to catch up without looking like he was putting an effort into it.

"C'mon, you know you want to chase my tail!" Vejitto called, said appendage rippling in the air stream behind him. He was still, as it happened, completely nude.

"Don't flatter yourself," Vegeta growled. "And your big plan sucks, by the way!"

"So you must be following me for my body, not my brains, then. I can live with that!"

Vegeta closed his eyes for a second, calming himself, then pointed at Vejitto with one finger. A satisfied smile spread over his face at the results.

As for Vejitto, he didn't see the carefully-aimed beam of light flash from Vegeta's fingertip, nor did he realize right away that the tip of his tail had caught fire. The smell of burnt fur was carried away from him by his flight. A few seconds later, however, he was fully caught up with current events.

Vegeta continued serenely on his way home. Hearing his name cursed in that many languages made him feel pleasantly nostalgic.

*****

"Let me get this straight," Yamucha said, watching as Goku swept the last of the cookie crumbs off the platter with one fingertip and sucked it clean. "Basically, you want help sneaking Gohan past his mother. Why not just use that instant transmission technique of yours and teleport him into his room?"

"Because I need someone to focus it on," Goku said, looking mournfully at the empty platter. "I can't go hopping around from place to place unless I can feel the ki of somebody who's already there. I can't use Chichi for that, you know, or we might show up right in front of her."

"Can't you choose where you'll appear? Like in the next room from her or something?"

"Doesn't work that way. I can't control it that finely from this far away."

Bulma looked up from where she was kneeling next to Gohan. "What about Goten? Can't you teleport into his room?"

Gohan mumbled something quite loudly, but none of them could catch it. The younger Son was lying on the kitchen floor, pressing his face against the cool tiles. He was still drunk, but no longer enjoying it.

The cleaning robots had tidied up and sanitized the room after his earlier bouts of sickness, and the corroded tiles had been discreetly replaced. He'd cooperated minimally with that, shifting a little as needed. He'd also agreed to take his shirt off so it could be laundered. After that, however, he refused to move anymore.

A blanket lay over his head now, protecting him from the light, and he was slowly sipping water through a straw from the bottle Bulma had brought him. It didn't seem to bother him that no one had understood what he was saying.

"I could, but Goten's not home right now," Goku said, leaning back in his chair.

"Where are they?" Bulma asked, already frowning.

Goku smiled a little vaguely. "West. Probably out by the lake. Don't worry. I'd know if something was wrong."

"It's almost two in the morning! They have school tomorrow!" she snapped.

Goku sighed. "Yeah, I know. They'll have to just suck it up. But don't be mad, Bulma. Goten probably just didn't want to be home when I got back."

Bulma opened her mouth to retort, but then shut it again. Chichi was probably waiting up for Goku, and Goten, like any child, wouldn't have wanted to see the inevitable fight. Unlike other children, though, he had both an easy means of escape and a friend to help him find more interesting things to do.

Sighing, she came back over to sit at the table. "What are you gonna do about Goten, then?"

"I'll make sure he and Trunks get home tonight. I'll go get them if I have to. Honestly, Goten's not the one I'm worried about…"

Goku trailed off and regarded Gohan, who was singing again, badly. The song was about a moose named Guido and, possibly, a salami, but Goku refused to understand any more of it than that. Gohan was really spending too much time with Roshi.

"How am I gonna get that past Chichi and then wake him up in time for school, without having him throw up on her or pass out in the front yard? It's my fault, but he's never gonna hear the end of it from his mom."

"Well, Goku," Bulma said after a few moments. "She is his mother. She does have the right to know."

"I know," he said. "I know. But… I think there's going to be enough trouble. I don't want there to be any reason for her to be angry at the boys. I know she loves them, but… once she gets mad, she can't always stop. You know?"

He held up his hands helplessly, as if he wasn't explaining things well and hadn't a prayer of making them clearer. That wasn't true, though. Bulma reached out and took hold of one of his hands, smiling for him. She had been friends with him for most of his life. She knew exactly what he meant.

"Alright, then, let's think about it. Can we get Gohan sober by the time his alarm goes off?" she said briskly. Bulma was on the case.

"I don't know. Normally I'd say yes, but that stuff was really strong. I didn't have more than a few sips and it was too much for me."

"If Master Roshi got it from his sister, it's probably Lord Enma's private stock or something. The last batch of stuff she sent him could have killed a normal human outright," Yamucha said, wincing at the memory. "I bet Gohan's going to be out of it for awhile, and when he's sober, he's going to have the hangover from Hell."

As if on cue, to underscore the potential horror of it all, Gohan suddenly burst into flames as he ascended, with the blanket still over his head. He mumbled something sexually explicit about Dabura and Mr. Satan and then laughed so hard at his own joke that he fractured the floor and most of the windows. Immediately afterwards he grabbed his head and moaned in pain. His ascension sputtered out like a damp firecracker.

"Okay," Bulma said, surveying the damage. "You may be screwed."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure of that," Vejitto said from the doorway.

*****

Fifteen minutes later, neither Goku nor Bulma had managed to look Vejitto in the eye.

Goku, his face a dull red, kept staring at some point several thousand yards behind and just to the left of Vegeta's shoulder.

Bulma appeared to be in pain: her mouth kept twisting and her eyes were watery. She seemed extremely calm when she spoke, but her sentences had a tendency to end in little squeaks, and she often found something to look at on the other side of the kitchen.

To the casual observer, the two of them looked somewhat deranged.

Vegeta had never been convinced that either one of them was totally sane, but he knew exactly what was wrong now, and it rubbed him precisely the wrong way.

Kakkarot was refusing to look at his recent lover because he didn't know what to say to him. He kept reaching up to cover the mark on his neck and then forcing his hand back down into his lap. He was obviously embarrassed, but he was also obviously not angry at Vejitto.

Vegeta fought an inner battle with himself. Did Goku regret having sex with the other saiyajin? Was he being bashful? Was he even freaking capable of being bashful? And why did Vegeta care? Well, he cared because… Gah! It was all too complicated!

Bulma's reaction was a lot simpler to understand. Kakkarot had probably told everyone on the damned planet by now that he'd gotten it on with Vejitto, and Bulma probably thought that was "cute" or "sweet" or something stupid like that.

There was also the issue of what Vejitto was wearing. She probably liked that too, inexplicable ningen that she was.

Vejitto was not naked anymore, though Vegeta wasn't sure the clothes were an improvement. The freak had been certain that Kakkarot would need help right now, and he'd somehow talked Vegeta into finding him. It hadn't been too much of a surprise to find that the elder Sons were at his own house.

Unwilling to arrive with a naked, sexed-up saiyajin at his heels, Vegeta had made Vejitto use the shower in his own suite and then loaned him clothes before looking for the others. It had been gratifying to see Vejitto obey, even though the clothing situation had eventually turned out to be as irritating as everything else was today.

Vegeta was a little short for a saiyajin male, but he was a bit taller than the average ningen. Kakkarot was a good six inches taller than he was, and Vejitto split their height right down the middle. Vejitto fit into a pair of Vegeta's spandex shorts fairly well, but for a shirt, he'd chosen one of Mrs. Briefs' many, many gifts to the father of her grandson.

Mrs. Briefs was a woman with definite ideas on how the world should be. Unfortunately, it was uncertain whether she lived in the same world with everyone else. To Bunny Briefs, Goku was a wonderful man who kept saving the world in time to make sure she didn't miss her appointments at the hair salon. Her grandson was "precocious", which explained why he could fly. And Vegeta, "that dear, dear man", liked to wear extra, extra large tropical print shirts, and had an unholy affection for waffles.

She was actually right about the waffles.

That didn't mean he was going to ever make even the faintest attempt to wear one of those shirts. They were invariably hideous. They could have been used as interrogation tools. The Ginyu Force would have adored them.

Vejitto, however, apparently had no taste whatsoever. He'd been highly amused by the ensemble he'd plucked out of the depths of the closet.

And, damn him to hell, he looked good in it. The shorts were just a little too tight and he'd left the shirt unbuttoned. A lean waist and a broad chest were on display, as well as the sharply cut muscles of a perfect stomach. He had thighs a porn star would have killed for. Although it was hard to tell with that shirt flapping around when he moved, he appeared to have other porn-worthy assets as well.

Vejitto wasn't wearing any shoes, and his tousled hair was even more wild than normal at the moment; it all made him seem even more confident and relaxed than Vegeta thought was really necessary. His tail even swayed casually behind him in an especially satisfied way. He looked… Well, the bastard looked exactly like a saiyajin who'd gotten spectacular sex recently and was still coasting on the afterglow. That's what he looked like.

The fact that the shirt was fluorescent, and that the floral pattern also formed a repeating pattern of cows with fangs didn't take away from his sexy wildness at all.

Vejitto smiled softly at Goku, who blushed again. Bulma stifled a giggle.

I could just blow the planet up, Vegeta thought, somewhat wistfully.

"Err…" Yamucha said, almost desperate to break the silence. Social awkwardness was never comfortable, but this was nearly unbearable. Also, Vejitto's shirt was going to make Yamucha's eyes bleed if he had to keep looking at it much longer. It was time to get down to the problem at hand. "Does anyone have any ideas how to get Gohan past Chichi? Anyone?"

If they could just get the kid out of here, Goku would go home, and if Goku was gone, Vegeta wouldn't be interested in sticking around anyway, and if Vegeta left, Yamucha might possibly get a kiss out of Bulma. He loved Goku like a brother, but a man had to have priorities. If this worked out for everybody, so much the better.

"Why is Gohan drunk?" Vegeta asked, sniffing in the young one's general direction. The smell of a hung-over demi-saiyajin was not one of his favorites. It brought back memories of Nappa swearing as he forced Radditz into the shower right before a mission; the catastrophically hung-over Radditz had thrown up on him. It had taken Vegeta a few minutes to convince Nappa that slamming Radditz's head repeatedly against the shower wall probably wasn't the best way of sobering him up.

Gohan peered up from underneath the blanket, his eyes watering. He opened his mouth, apparently thinking about answering Vegeta, and then caught sight of Vejitto.

"Hi, 'Jitto!" he said, a little unclearly. "Sorry Mom's gonna kill ya for being such a huge pervert."

He spoke with terrible sincerity, as if Vejitto was already awaiting execution. With a sniffle he retreated under the blanket, though Goku clearly heard a mumbled "God of might" and some giggling. Remembering Gohan's earlier comment, he blushed again. At this rate, he was pretty sure he was going to be embarrassed for the rest of his life.

"And so, why is Gohan drunk?" Vegeta said with what he thought was remarkable restraint.

Bulma took pity on almost everyone involved and calmly explained the situation, and why sneaking Gohan past the ever-vigilant Chichi was now of vital importance. She left out certain details, mostly those concerning Goku's recent sex life, in the belief that they were none of Vegeta's business. Seeing the way Vegeta glowered at Vejitto, however, she suspected that this particular cat was already well out of the bag.

Having drawn the correct conclusions, Vegeta flexed his hands, making fists and then carefully un-making them. He'd told Kakkarot that Vejitto would be nothing but trouble, but had the moron bothered to listen to him? Of fucking course not. So here they were, and who was going to get them out of this mess?

He was, apparently.

Damn him if he didn't have an idea.

If Vejitto so much as smirked, Vegeta would cave his head in. Somehow.

"You," he said, so abruptly that Yamucha nearly jumped out of his chair. "Where's your girlfriend?"

There was a brief look exchanged between Yamucha and Bulma that nearly drove Vegeta mad. Did they really think he cared?

"Knock that shit off!" he barked at them, making everybody else jump. "Where's that freaky floating cat?"

"Pu'ar?" Yamucha asked, somewhat appalled. "She's not my…"

"Whatever," Vegeta said, waving a hand imperiously. "She's a shape-shifter, isn't she?"

Bulma, of course, understood his plan immediately. It annoyed him a great deal that he had to wait for her to quit laughing before he could explain it to the rest of them.

*****

"No fucking way."

"Where did you get the idea that I was offering you a choice?"

"Vegeta!! Oh, I'm sorry, Oolong, but you know how he is… and we really need the favor," Bulma said, smiling her best public relations smile. She leaned forward in her chair, knowing almost to the millimeter how much further this made her top gape open.

Grumpy, somewhat intoxicated, and reeking of cheap cologne, Oolong the shape-shifting pig regarded his captors dubiously. He wasn't stupid. There was simply no conceivable way that being suddenly kidnapped and teleported into a kitchen filled with drunk and/or oddly-behaved saiyajins could be a good thing. The fact that Bulma was willingly flashing him the slightest sliver of boobage wasn't reassuring. Gratifying, but not reassuring.

He glanced at Pu'ar. The blue cat was in the background, not taking part in the conversation. One paw rested on her large belly, and she was humming quietly to herself. He would give a lot of cash to have been there when these goons found out that sweet little Pu'ar had gotten herself knocked up. He knew that she'd been dating a pilot for quite a while, a cat animorph whose name always escaped Oolong. Yamucha probably didn't even know about the guy, though. Cats were sneaky about stuff like that.

Oolong was pretty sure that these bastards had hit up Pu'ar for their "favor" first, and then gone after him. He wasn't sure if he was happy about that.

It didn't matter, though. There was no way he was gonna do it.

It was suicide.

"Look," he said, in a last attempt to be reasonable. "You know my voice won't change. Even if Chichi thinks I'm Gohan on sight, she's gonna notice my lovely singing voice. And then I'm dead. So go find someone else to get killed."

"C'mon, Oolong! Vejitto will be there to distract her. All you have to do is stick some toast in your mouth and run out the door like you're late for school. She'll be too busy threatening Vejitto to do more than notice that Gohan's on his way," Bulma said. She rolled her shoulders a little, and the shirt went a little wider, and Oolong wondered if ogling her in front of Vegeta was really a good idea.

The prince didn't seem to notice, though. Weirdo.

"Then Goku can call Gohan's school and say he's too sick to go today. Gohan can sleep it off here, and then go home when he normally would," Yamucha added.

"And I can sort this out with Chichi before the boys come home this afternoon," Goku added. He didn't sound particularly confident.

Vegeta folded his arms, pleased. Despite the early setback with the cat, whose sex life he now knew a great deal more about than he wished to, things were going well. Once Yamucha's fit of hysterics over Pu'ar's condition had been settled, Vejitto had proven himself useful for once and acquired the pig for him via instant transmission.

Everybody had agreed that his plan was a sensible one, given that simply vaporizing Chichi was apparently out of the question. Kakkarot had given him a strange, adoring sort of look when he'd finished explaining everything, and that look had sparked a warm feeling in Vegeta's chest that still hadn't faded. He assumed it was the result of some sort of positive emotion, even if he couldn't identify it.

Vejitto had barely said a word the whole time, and Vegeta liked that too.

Now if they could just convince the pig to imitate Gohan for a few minutes, everything would be okay. The pig's fear of Kakkarot's hellhound wife was a problem, though. It was the only thing keeping Vegeta from finding out exactly how many points his little scheme had earned him with Kakkarot.

Oolong paled when Vegeta's death glare landed on him, but he had more courage than people gave him credit for. Plus, he was getting ticked off. "You know where I was an hour ago, your Highnessness? In a strip club so exclusive that I've been on the potential membership list since before you got your first stiffy. Now you say I've got to run a gauntlet past Chichi, of all the scary females on the planet. I say, why should I? What's in it for me?"

At this point, fate intervened, in the form of a saiyajin in a mind-bendingly unattractive shirt. With a friendly smile, Vejitto stepped forward and ushered Oolong into the next room. The pig shot a glare over his shoulder at Vegeta, who only brooded in response.

There was silence for several minutes. Saiyajin hearing could pick up the faint sound of voices, but they were too indistinct for proper eavesdropping.

Goku stared at his hands and wondered how one little kiss had somehow blown up into adultery, deception, and whatever unpleasant thing was happening in the next room. He also wondered why he couldn't bring himself to regret his lovemaking with Vejitto, and why he couldn't seem to think of it in any other terms, even when he could hardly look his lover in the eye now.

Bulma refastened the buttons of her blouse and wondered if she should really be involved with this. She wasn't really happy about any plan Vegeta came up with, ever, since they always seemed to involve gratuitous explosions. This one didn't seem to, but that only made her think she was missing part of it.

She also wondered why Yamucha hadn't noticed her cleavage at all.

Yamucha brooded. How could his sweet little cat-sister have turned into such a cat-slut?

A minute later, Oolong bounded into the room, looking a little flushed. "Alright!" he proclaimed loudly and with unnecessary cheer. "I love this plan! I'm excited to be a part of it! Let's get going!"

There wasn't much else to say to that, and the group, minus Gohan, who was finally unconscious, and Pu'ar, who'd fallen asleep in mid-air again, began to file out of the room.

Vegeta caught Vejitto's arm and held him back. He spoke in Saiyago, more because he could than out of any concerns for privacy. "What did you say to him?"

Vejitto responded in kind. "I gave him a choice. If he cooperates, I will convince Roshi to let Oolong into his vault of kitty-porn."

"And if he does not?"

"How do you feel about barbequed pig?"

Vegeta smirked. The thought of Vejitto threatening to eat the little bastard pleased him no end. "I have eaten worse things."

Vejitto made a face. "Believe me, I know."

"If my eating habits bother you, how can you live with Kakkarot's memories?" Vegeta asked, being deliberately cruel.

"I pretend I am hallucinating."

Vegeta almost grinned before he caught himself and managed to twist another smirk out of it.

With that, they went out into the night, bent on combining their awe-inspiring powers to defeat the parenting skills of a rural housewife.

Neither of them noticed the way Goku's eyes narrowed at the sight of them walking side by side, or how closely he watched the two of them together.

~TBC~