Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Trinity ❯ Nine ( Chapter 9 )

Trinity

 

Author: Xero Sky

Pairings: Vegeta, Vejitto, and Goku, in various combinations thereof.

Warnings: YAOI AU, lemon, violence, odd humor, violence, profanity, angst, and... I'm not sure how you'd warn for this anyway.

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

 

Summary for those who might have lost track in the uncounted eons since I last updated this:

 

In a slightly different reality, the battles ended, the universe was saved, and Vejitto was left to ponder his fate. Unable to find his own place in the world, he made a wish that he probably could have worded a little better. This brought him to a world where Vegeta was just about to put on the Potara earring... Nipping that in the bud, Vejitto met his former selves. Then things got complicated. What you absolutely need to know for this chapter is as follows:

Vejitto seduced Goku a couple of chapters ago, and the pair were discovered by Vegeta, who was Not Happy.

Vegeta and Vejitto came to an accord - both of them want Goku, but Vejitto is willing to share. Vegeta is slightly less than Unhappy about this, but an alliance of sorts is formed.

Goku tells Gohan that he cheated on Chichi. Flailing about in a most undignified manner, Goku asked Roshi for advice while Gohan drank the old perv's birthday gift - sake from his sister - and got impressively smashed. Further flailing brought the pair to Bulma's kitchen, where Gohan discovered the Really Bad Parts about drinking.

Goku resolves to tell Chichi what he's done, because he's unhealthily honest like that. Meanwhile, Chichi doesn't know her son is passed out in Bulma's kitchen at the moment - she thinks he's in his bedroom. A Cunning Plan is devised to make her think that Gohan has been home all along. Oolong will impersonate Gohan in the morning, and then the real Gohan will come home in the afternoon as if he had been in school all day and not praying for death as his first hangover arrived. Goten is in on the plan. Vejitto will distract Chichi at the appropriate time to make sure she isn't suspicious. Then Goku can go confess, after both his boys are taken care of for the day.

Chichi hates Vejitto. She thinks he's the worst parts of both saiyajins, and that he's an untrustworthy abomination.

 

That should get you started for now.

 

Previous chapters are on Mediaminer, will soon be up on AFF.net, and Ginia has them too.

 

Thanks to anyone who has bothered reading all this!

 

(Unbeta'ed, because I've re-written the last scene 8 billion times, and if I don't post it NOW, I never will!)

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

 

Son Chichi was going to execute her husband. Of course, he was impervious to virtually everything, including good sense, but the little details mattered less and less to her as the morning wore on.

 

Standing in her spotless kitchen, she surveyed the small mountain of food on the table and nodded to herself. Whether her spouse returned home or not, at least her boys would have a proper breakfast this morning. If her boys were fed, then at least something was still right in the world.

 

Dimly, she heard the sounds of alarm clocks from upstairs, and she knew that the kids would be tumbling out of bed soon. Both of them had learned early on that one did not sleep in on a school day in the Son household. The thunder of footsteps from overhead was comfortingly normal. Soon the shower would be running, and eventually both boys, in their spotless school uniforms, would be down for breakfast. She would look over their homework and then send them on their way to the school. Just like any other perfectly ordinary morning.

 

She splashed her face with cold water and combed through her hair with her fingers, re-arranging her already faultless bun. There was nothing she could do right now about her bloodshot eyes, but hopefully the boys wouldn't notice. She wasn't sure what she would tell them if they did.

 

Oh, she hadn't been crying. It was nothing like that. She'd merely been waiting up for Goku. She'd spent the entire night waiting for him, willing him to come back, and he was still gone. He hadn't even managed to call. There'd been a time when she might have understood that kind of behavior, but they were adults now, parents with a son almost out of high school, and this was unacceptable.

 

There was a thud and a laugh from upstairs, and she frowned. Those two had better not be horsing around up there. There was a time and a place for sparring, and this was not it. Her boys needed to be getting up and going to school, just like normal kids were doing everywhere right now.

 

Healthy boys, with healthy appetites, she thought fondly, surveying her handiwork again. It was a good thing that Videl was rich, because it was going to take a team of chefs to match the kind of home cooking Gohan was used to. Rice, eggs, fish, pancakes, beef, fruit, stir fry, waffles… She had something cooking almost all the time these days, but it was worth it to know that her boys were getting the best.

 

Humming tunelessly, she circled the table, making small adjustments here and there, stacking things differently and topping off the glasses. With a small frown, she slid a plate of fried fish cakes closer to Goten's place, knowing that Gohan disliked them. He seemed to be awfully fond of waffles lately, so she moved that platter closer to his seat. Her sons weren't much alike in some ways. Goten ate like his dad, devouring everything within reach, while Gohan had definite preferences, much like she did. She smiled fondly. Her sons were so damned saiyajin at times… It was good to see signs of their humanity.

 

A glance at the clock told her that the boys were lagging, and she frowned again. What were they up to? Chichi thought about going upstairs to see what was going on, but as she turned that way, the kitchen door opened behind her. Oh, she knew who that was. What a surprise that he would turn up just after she'd put food on the table. With a murderous smile, she turned around to greet her husband.

 

*****

 

Oolong shuddered. He couldn't believe that he'd ever thought of the Sons as sweet or innocent. What a sham! Goku had turned out to be some kind of weirdo adulterer, Gohan was a lush, and Goten -- little Goten, of all people -- was standing there, grinning like an idiot, and blackmailing him!

 

He was doing a pretty damned good job of it, too.

 

"You've gotta be kidding me," Oolong said, halfheartedly trying to convince them both that it was just a misunderstanding.

 

"Nuh-unh," Goten said cheerfully. "Either you owe me, or I show Mom that you're not Gohan."

 

The little brat was blocking the door. Unlike the shapeshifter, Goten showed no signs of having stayed up all night; he was positively perky. Goku had fetched the brats from the lake before sunrise, and although both Goten and Trunks had tried to look apologetic for sneaking out, neither one of them could quite pull it off. Whatever Goku had said to his son later, during a private talk several hundred feet up into the air, hadn't seemed to phase Goten either. Instead of being alarmed or upset, Goten apparently saw the whole thing as an opportunity. Oolong would've said it was unlike him, but he wasn't sure he knew what the Sons were really like anymore.

 

"Look, kid, this is for your brother, alright? What're you giving me grief for?"

 

"Grief?" Goten said, looking a little bewildered.

 

"Why are you making this harder?" Oolong said, trying not to grind his teeth.

 

"Oh! 'Cause Dad told me this morning to look for the bright side even when things seem darkest," Goten said helpfully. "So I am."

 

"Fabulous," Oolong said, sighing in defeat. Trust Goku to accidentally inspire his son to start a career in extortion. "Fine. One future favor, whenever you ask."

 

"Cool!" Goten practically chirped. "Now, you better get down there before Mom gets mad."

 

"Yeah, yeah…" the pig grumbled. For a second he thought about trying to bolt, but the memory of Vejitto's smiling face, now permanently linked in his mind with the smell of barbecue, inspired him otherwise. Shuddering, he picked up Gohan's book bag and took a couple of deep breaths. "Okay, kid, outta my way!"

 

Goten dutifully stepped aside. "Sure, Mr. Oolong. Hope it works!"

 

He told himself that he only had to go downstairs, wave at Chichi, and run out the door. All he had to do was look like Gohan for long enough to convince her that the teenager had been here all night and was leaving for school now, instead of sleeping off a nearly cataclysmic drunk back at Capsule Corp. Vejitto would distract her so that Oolong didn't even have to say anything. Once out the door, all he had to do was keep out of sight for a couple of minutes until Goku showed up to take him back home. Simple, right?

 

If he screwed up, there wouldn't be enough left after Chichi was through with him for Vejitto to bother grilling.

"Mr. Oolong?"

 

With a small whimper and a tiny flash, the pig disappeared and was replaced by an equally harassed-looking Gohan. The fake forced a smile, tried to look totally trustworthy, and then charged downstairs.

 

Goten yawned and finished putting his shoes on. He heard his mother start yelling a moment later, but that was okay. He could feel Vejitto's ki and knew that his mom was just mad like she always was when that guy came around. Goten kind of liked him, so he didn't really understand why his mom freaked out. With a shrug, he pinned his school badge on and looked at himself in the mirror. He still wasn't all that enthusiastic about going to school instead of being taught at home, but at least he got to see Trunks every day now. That was a definite improvement.

 

Speaking of whom, he couldn't wait to tell him what he'd done! Trunks would think it was awesome. He thought about getting the real Gohan to owe him too, but Dad had said that family had to stick together. Goten wasn't sure if that also applied to his mom or not, but he'd leave that to Goku. After all, Dad had said he was going to have a big talk with Mom today, and that everything would be okay. Gohan always said Dad could make anything right, so Goten decided not to worry. After all, there were way more exciting things to think about now.

 

For one thing, with Gohan still sick or whatever, the youngest Son had the breakfast table all to himself.

 

Feeling quite cheerful suddenly, Goten took the stairs downward two at a time.

 

*****

 

It was bizarre.

 

He knew his memories weren't perfect. There was no real way they could be, with the experiences of two lifetimes jammed into one head. He usually managed to pull up the right information if he had a moment or two to think, and some things were always right there. He knew he remembered some things differently than the other two saiyajins; there were some memories that each of them was fond of or haunted by that he hardly noticed.

 

Regardless, he couldn't begin to fathom how he could have forgotten what Chichi's cooking was like. Far too saiyajin for his own good, Vejitto stood mesmerized in front of the table, his senses flooded with the sheer splendor of breakfast at the Son house.

 

Chichi was in between him and the food before he even realized she was in the house.

 

"Get away from that! That's for my boys!" she snarled.

 

He dragged his eyes away from the food and back to her. "Um, heh, hi, Chi…" he said, rubbing the back of his head and smiling in a gesture that Goku's descendants would be cursed with until the end of time.

 

If he had planned it all out in advance, step by step, Vejitto couldn't have done a better job of getting Chichi's attention. He was still wearing nothing but shorts and the unbuttoned Tropical Print Shirt of Doom, he'd let himself in unannounced, ogled the boys' breakfast, and now he was doing an uncanny impression of the husband she wanted to strangle. It was brilliant.

 

Without a trace of fear, Chichi dropped into a fighting pose. "GET OUT!!"

 

"Hey now," Vejitto said, trying not to wince at her voice, "that's not very hospitable."

 

"You aren't welcome here. Get out before I throw you out."

 

One of the endearing things about Chichi was that she always meant what she said. With her, you never had to guess where you stood. The fact that she couldn't do him any harm didn't mean that she wouldn't try. Vejitto considered letting her knock herself out, perhaps literally, but that wasn't the plan. Instead, he grinned at her and slid around the opposite side of the table, putting breakfast between the two of them.

 

"Aw, c'mon, Chichi," Vejitto said. "There's no reason to get all excited. I just came by to see if Goku was here... and..."

 

If it was possible, Chichi became even angrier at that, and Vejitto winced a little, thinking that he hadn't done Goku any favors with that comment.

 

"You know he isn't!! You people always know where you are! It's just normal people who have to drop by or visit or call each other!"

 

"But, Chichi..." Vejitto whined. "Couldn't I just wait here until he shows up? I'm really hungry..."

 

He wasn't actually kidding about that part. His stomach made a faint growling noise, as if agreeing with him. This woman's cooking could've driven the Saiyajin Empire to its knees. He reached out wistfully towards a pile of seductive waffles, unable to stop himself.

 

"Don't you touch that!" Chichi yelled. Then she emphasized her command by heaving the nearest inanimate object at him.

 

Ah, yes. Chichi had always had excellent aim. Another talent Vejitto should have remembered.

 

The pitcher of warm syrup caught him right between the eyes. Shards of broken ceramic went flying everywhere, scattering across the small, bright kitchen. Warm, sticky goodness covered his face before beginning its slow roll down his throat and bare chest. Splashes of syrup glued his hair to his head, matting his bangs down over his eyes.

 

Silence followed.

 

In the quiet, all that could be heard was Chichi's rough breathing, the slow patter of syrup dripping from Vejitto's chin, and one unexpected sound: a small, barking squeak, as if someone had stepped on a poodle.

 

Chichi turned to find Gohan standing in the doorway, bookbag in hand, eyes wide, and one hand clamped over his mouth. The poor boy must be appalled to see this kind of thing in his own kitchen!

 

"Oh, sweetie!" she said, moving towards him in a flurry of motherly concern. "Don't worry about him! He's leaving. Why don't you sit down and have something to eat before school?"

 

Oolong's eyes went even wider. He'd come into the room just in time to see the barbeque-crazy saiyajin get pegged right in the face, and he hadn't been able to completely stifle his laughter. Now, with Chichi bearing down on him, he was tempted to just make a run for it. Vejitto, however, was in his way, and as he took a couple of steps towards the door, the saiyajin managed to scrape the sticky mass of hair out of his eyes and fix an old-style saiyajin death glare on him, freezing him in his tracks.

 

"Gohan?"

 

Chichi's voice broke Oolong free from his momentary paralysis, and old, familiar survival instincts kicked in. Oolong reached down and grabbed something off a plate and shoved it in his mouth, excusing his silence. Then he tapped his watch desperately and, holding up his hands in mute apology, dashed out the door, hoping that he was projecting the perfect aura of 'Sorry, mom! Hope you don't mind me leaving you here alone with this guy! Can't be late to school, you know! Love ya!'

 

Chichi stared after him, but this kind of behavior wasn't really that unusual for her household. Was it?

 

"Well, Chichi," Vejitto said slowly, taking his shirt off and using it to wipe his face. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't think I'm gonna be able to stay for breakfast today. I'll definitely take you up on it some other time, though."

 

He managed a sticky wink at her.

 

"FREAK!"

 

As he was turned to leave, Vejitto's tail managed to curl around a stack of waffles and sweep them up in a little bundle. "Well, okay, if you insist," he said. "You know me: I never say no to a snack."

 

A plate soon intersected with the space his head had occupied, but by that time Vejitto was already gone, leaving Chichi to snarl in his general direction and then slam the door behind him. She reached up to neaten her hair and took a deep breath to calm herself.

 

Goten was already sitting at the table when she turned around, loading his bowl up with rice. "Hey, Mom," he said between bites. "Did you see Gohan?"

 

"Yes..." she said, still frowning.

 

"Okay." He went about the business of stuffing as much food as possible inside him in the time allowed.

 

"Why?" she asked, slumping down into a chair next to him.

 

"Just wanted to know if you'd seen him," he said indistinctly, around a mouthful of something savory.

 

"Oh," she said. "He was late for school, so he grabbed a bite and ran off."

 

Goten made a noncommittal sort of sound, as if he'd lost interest. Chichi watched him fondly, trying to make some sense of her morning so far. She liked watching her sons eat what she'd cooked for them; it made her feel needed. It was time to get things back to normal.

 

Glancing up at the clock, she said "Goten, honey, you're gonna need to hurry or..."

 

Her voice trailed off. According to the clock, it was still early. There was more than enough time for Goten to finish eating and then get going to school. So why had Gohan said he was late? Although, come to think of it, Gohan hadn't actually said anything, had he? He'd just shoved a fish cake into his mouth and then tapped his watch a few times before running out.

 

Her eyes narrowed. Gohan hated fish cakes. And why did he run out without a word? He'd looked really, really nervous, too, which wasn't normal for him. Had he been afraid? Afraid of Vejitto? Is that what had upset him so much? Had that freaky bastard done something to Gohan? She would kill him if he had. Somehow.

 

"This is all Goku's fault," she said venomously.

 

Goten pretended not to hear her. That way was usually best. Besides, how often did he have breakfast all to himself? Humming, he filled his dish up again, still confident that everything was going to plan.

 

*****

 

Vegeta scowled and suddenly looked up, staring as if he could see through the ceiling. The tired group in Bulma's kitchen, having reassembled upon the promise of breakfast, watched as the prince suddenly stood up and stormed out of the room.

 

“What now?” Bulma said to the group at large, not bothering to be more specific.

 

“Vejitto's upstairs,” Trunks said cheerfully. Yamucha winced at the horribly chirpy tone, and Trunks' smile widened by another notch. He didn't know what all these adults were moping about, anyway. Trunks hadn't slept more than an hour or so, but he was up and ready to go. What a bunch of wussies.

 

“Oh,” his mother said, blinking. Her normally brilliant mind seemed to be having trouble processing that information. “You need to get to school, hon. Did you eat?"

 

"Yup! And I've already got my homework done."

 

"Okay, then. Are you okay going by yourself?"

 

"Mo-ommm…" Trunks groaned, embarrassed. Trying to hide her smile, Bulma kissed him, thus making his blush deeper. It was her job, she figured.

 

"Alright. Take care of Goten today, alright? He's gonna need his best friend around."

 

Trunks made a visible effort not to roll his eyes, then gave her a quick hug and was gone, just like that.

 

They'd explained the situation to him in vague terms, stressing that the world wasn't in danger and that Gotenks would not be needed in the foreseeable future. The direct approach had seemed best, and, besides, Goten would have told him everything anyway. Trunks had been excited by the whole thing, in much the same way the prospect of cataclysmic violence always excited him, but there wasn't much she could do about that. Saiyajins would be saiyajins, after all.

 

There was a jarring thump from overhead, and the light fixtures swung gently back and forth. A fine stream of dust filtered down from the newly cracked ceiling.

 

With remarkable poise, Bulma held up the coffee pot. "Coffee's ready. Anyone want some before the fight starts?”

 

Hands shot up all over the room.

 

*****

 

"How'd it go?"

 

"Put me down."

 

"She didn't notice anything, did she?"

 

"Put. Me. Down."

 

"Goten didn't give you any trouble, did he? I told him -"

 

"GOKU! PUT ME DOWN!"

 

"Jeez, Oolong, you don't need to yell," Goku said reproachfully.

 

He deposited the shapeshifter on the couch, and then squatted down in front of him. Even so, he towered over Oolong, who had reverted to his natural shape.

 

"So, how'd it go?" he asked again.

 

"Fine."

 

"Fine?"

 

"FINE, Goku. She was screaming at your freaky alter-ego in the kitchen, so I breezed right through. She saw me, but I didn't have to say anything, so you're good to go," Oolong said huffily.

 

"So Gohan's taken care of…" Goku said, standing up. His eyes already had that look in them, the one he got when he was planning on beating something into a fine paste. Oolong was apparently forgotten, which suited him just fine. He'd had more than enough of saiyajins for today, thank you very much. With a snort, the shapeshifter hopped off the couch and started to leave without another word.

 

Goku came out of his reverie for a moment. "Hey, Oolong? Thanks. Really. Can I take you home?" It was hard to stay mad at him when he smiled like that, but Oolong tried mightily before conceding.

 

"It's alright. I'm gonna go make Bulma feed me breakfast before I go anywhere. Your wife's a good cook, but I like my meals less dangerous," he said.

 

"Yeah, she is," Goku said, and his smile turned sad enough that Oolong almost dropped his grudge against the Son family altogether.

 

"Well, gotta go," Oolong said, shuffling his feet. "Go make it up to your wife or something, will ya?"

 

Goku nodded as Oolong made his escape. Make it up to her? He doubted that he could. Experience told him that Chichi would be furious, try to take her rage out of his hide, and then hand down whatever rules, whatever conditions he'd have to meet to keep her happy. That was how it worked in the past, when he'd done nothing more drastic than keep Gohan out training too late or destroyed something too fragile for his hands. It was the way they kept peace between them: the only way he knew how.

 

This time, she could demand whatever she wanted. He just didn't know if he'd agree to any of it. Gohan had forgiven him, it seemed, and Goten didn't seem to care, but Chichi would feel betrayed, wouldn't she? Of course she would. So he would confess, she would demand penance, and he... what would he do?

 

One way or the other, it was time he found out.

 

*****

 

"Get out."

 

They were the first words that Vegeta had managed to say since he'd entered the bathroom. His private bathroom. The bathroom that no one else was allowed to use. The one with the granite countertops and gold-plated fixtures. The one that now had a trail of filthy clothes and dropped towels leading to the finest custom shower on the planet.

 

All things considered, the hesitant quality of his own voice shamed him, and he tried again.

 

"Get out!"

 

That was better.

 

Vejitto, of course, didn't cooperate. He should have meekly apologized for the crime of defacing royal property and begged for pardon. Instead, the bastard continued with what amounted to a dedicated display of hedonism as he enjoyed a shower of unsurpassed excellence.

 

He was standing with his back to the clear glass door, slowly massaging his scalp as he rinsed his hair clean. Jets of scalding water, far hotter than any human could withstand but perfect for a saiyajin, struck his sculpted form from all sides. Streams of suds ran down his body, accentuating every dip and curve of hard muscles. A wet and soapy tail curled and uncurled, brushing across strong shoulders and thighs. Swaying gently back and forth under the streams, he was savoring the sensual pleasures of wet heat and pounding water with a delight that bordered on obscene.

 

Vegeta clenched his fists, feeling his nails begin to cut into his palms. Was this… this display deliberate? What did Vejitto think he was doing?

 

It didn't matter. Vegeta didn't care what he looked like. He wasn't staring, and even if he was staring, it wasn't at the lean, perfect son of a bitch in the shower. He was just outraged at the invasion of his privacy. It wasn't the show he was getting; it was that the freak was giving it in Vegeta's bathroom!

 

He was certainly not impressed. It wasn't like he hadn't seen the saiyajin naked before or anything.

 

Really naked, in fact. Right after… right after he and Kakkarot…

 

With a subtle twist of his hips, Vejitto suddenly flicked his tail against the shower door, leaving a creamy smear of lather across the glass.

 

Vegeta twitched.

 

"GET OUT OF MY SHOWER!!!"

 

Glass shattered everywhere. Vejitto looked over his shoulder at Vegeta, and raised an inquisitive brow before letting a slow smirk cross his face.

 

Explosions followed.

 

 

*****

 

Gohan forced his eyes open to find that he'd been catapulted to the center of the sun while he was asleep.

 

This discovery didn't affect Gohan in the same way that it might have affected most intelligent beings. For one thing, Gohan had not been instantaneously rendered into a whiff of carbon molecules. For another, most people would probably not have instantly blamed their little brother for the situation. Nor would their little brothers have likely been capable of it, either.

 

Son Gohan had woken up panting, dripping with sweat, and facing into brightest light in the history of the universe, and he was not amused. The light seared through his eyelids and bored into his brain, making every thought an exercise in masochism. He'd been beaten to the edge of death before, tortured by sadistic aliens, devoured by nightmarish pink things, and faced the wrath of his mother during exams, but he'd never felt anything, anything as painful as -

 

"Stop whining," Vejitto said grumpily from somewhere nearby. There was a sound of fabric moving, and then the pain eased as Gohan was wrapped in merciful darkness once again. When the pain subsided, he blinked his eyes several times, chasing away glowing shadows, and finally saw where he was.

 

He was in Heaven. Or rather, in one of Heaven's spare bedrooms. He recognized the simple, yet somehow sumptuous, surroundings and the stillness in the air. He was in a bed near a large window, and although the heavy curtains had just been drawn, the room was still too bright for his liking. He held a hand up against the glare and attempted to sit up.

 

This proved to be a mistake.

 

When the room stopped moving and the heaving eased up at last, Gohan managed to make some sense of things again. He found that he was hanging head first over the edge of the bed, supported by Vejitto's strong grasp. Directly below him, a sturdy metal bucket had been positioned just right to catch what he'd yakked up. Whatever it was, it was brilliantly green, stank like Furiza's armpits, and appeared to be at a slow boil. He knew what it must be, but he was reluctant to believe anything that vile had ever actually been in his stomach.

 

A thin, acrid smell accompanied a faint sizzling sound, and suddenly Vejitto was pulling him up and laying him back on the bed. There was a curse, a rush of movement, and then Vejitto was gone. Blinking, Gohan lay still for several moments, weighing the risks, before trying to sit up again. Was there a threat? Where'd Vejitto gone to? Curiosity got the better of him, and with a sigh, he tried to sit up again.

 

This time went better than the last, and he'd just gotten to a reasonably upright angle with the help of a sturdy bedpost, when Vejitto reappeared.

 

He was holding a new bucket in one hand, which he put back beside the bed. Now that his eyes were working better, Gohan noticed the floorboards on that side bore several scorch marks and more than a few holes. Alarmingly, he could see daylight through a couple of them.

 

"What… what's all that about?" Gohan managed.

 

"Saiyajin digestive fluids," Vejitto said with a completely inappropriate air of majesty, "are nothing to be trifled with."

 

"What?"

 

With a dramatic sigh, Vejitto flopped down into a chair. "After you threw up everything you'd ever eaten, you started throwing up bile. I'm told this is not unusual in humans. Saiyajin stomachs, however, are made of fiercer stuff, so once you got sick enough to hurl…"

 

He gestured at the floor.

 

"It dissolves metal?" Gohan asked queasily.

 

"A little slower than it goes through everything else, but yeah. Your first offering went through the floor and out the bottom of the Lookout without slowing down. Nearly caught the old cat down there in the head."

 

Gohan buried his face in his hands.

 

"Welcome to the wonderful world of catastrophic hangovers," the other saiyajin said far too cheerily.

 

"Kill me."

 

"Can't. You've gotta be bright and shiny again in about, oh, four hours or so."

 

Vejitto explained The Plan to Gohan. He explained his glorious role in devising it, the role he'd played in it, and how well it had gone so far. He did not mention the syrup.

 

Gohan quietly boggled at him. "So Dad actually went for that?"

 

"Yep."

 

"Wow." That didn't quite cover everything Gohan felt about it, but his language skills were still a bit limited. It was clear, though, how concerned Goku had been about making sure that he and Goten were in the clear with their mom. Gohan felt grateful for that, even though the whole situation was his dad's fault to begin with. It was, right? He scowled. Well, yeah, but…

 

"Hey," he said, looking up sharply and wincing at the movement. "You and dad, uh… right? Why'd you do that? You must have known… He's kinda you, isn't he...? I mean, he's married. What were you thinking?"

 

"That's between me and him. But you should know, I didn't mean to cause trouble for any of you," Vejitto said, sobering somewhat. "I am sorry for the hurt this may cause you and Goten."

 

"But you did it anyway."

 

"I did it anyway," Vejitto agreed, looking him straight in the eye, "and I'd do it again, in a heartbeat."

 

Gohan wasn't sure whether the sudden tightness in his throat was anger or nausea. "Why?"

 

"Because he's amazing. I couldn't stay away if I wanted to," Vejitto said, his expression softening. "Maybe it's just a question of ego, but I don't think so. He's not as much like me as you'd think."

 

Gohan started to nod, but the older saiyajin wasn't quite finished. "And he has the most incredible ass I've ever…"

 

Now Gohan was sure: it was nausea. He grimaced, waving a hand at Vejitto to shut up, and turned away, looking for something, anything else to focus on. The obvious sprang to mind, eventually.

 

"Uh, why are we up here? At Dende's?"

 

Vejitto flashed the famous Son family "if I smile widely enough, maybe people will stop asking me questions!" grin at him, but Gohan was immune. As his mother's son, he understood the best way to deal with such a wanton use of charm, and he used it now, crossing his arms and scowling until Vejitto gave in.

 

"Bulma requested that all saiyajins remove themselves from Capsule Corp for the day. For safety's sake, we assumed this meant you too."

 

"She requested…?" Dark eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"

 

"Me? Why do people always blame me when things explode? It's not my fault that Vegeta suddenly decided to destroy his bathroom this morning!" Vejitto protested, sounding aggrieved.

 

"Why don't I believe that?"

 

"Because you're a nasty, suspicious little brat. Now, if you're finished throwing up and impugning my good character, let's go see Dende. He should be able to do something more to help, now that you're not so much of an environmental hazard," Vejitto said, standing up and stretching. His tail waved back and forth, and Gohan felt a totally unexpected pang of jealousy. People kept cutting his own tail off and yanking it out or whatever. It was completely unfair, now that he thought about it. Imagine what he could do with a tail...

 

"—han. Gohan!"

 

"Huh?

 

"If you're finished lusting after my tail, could we get going? You're just not my type."

 

"Hey!! I was not!" Gohan snapped, blushing. He hadn't been thinking of Vejitto's tail at all, of course, but it was still somehow embarrassing.

 

Vejitto just grinned, unrepentant.

 

*****

 

Under the vault of heaven, three god-like creatures, one actual god, one ex-god hybrid of sorts, and one mildly disturbing creature of indeterminate species were gathered together in grumpy silence, awaiting the end of the world.

 

Mr. Popo, he of the mysterious origin, was also somewhat nonplussed at the moment. "Mr. Popo…" he began tentatively, "is wondering if there's a reason for so many guests today."

 

He wasn't particularly surprised when no one answered him. Vegeta, Vejitto, Piccolo, Gohan, and Dende had many gifts and strange abilities, but social skills were not among them. All of them kept on with what they'd been doing: staring off vaguely into the distance.

 

After repeating himself twice, Mr. Popo looked around surreptitiously and then prodded Dende in the butt with one pointed shoe. After a few millennia of putting up with various gods and their narrow attention spans, Mr. Popo had found that the direct, yet discreet approach often worked best. Dende blinked rapidly and began looking around, somewhat confused. Always polite, Mr. Popo repeated himself yet again and this time was rewarded with an answer.

 

"Goku is talking to Chichi," the god said a little breathlessly. "We're watching their ki to see if she kills him!"

 

Gohan made an odd sound, something between a growl and a sigh, and Dende blushed.

 

The slight flush across Gohan's face was the only indication that he was aware of the various looks the others gave him. As long as they all shut their mouths and let him concentrate, he didn't care what they thought about it. Dende had laid hands on him earlier and taken away most of his pain, but he still felt odd now, like he was made of glass.

 

The group went back to keeping watch, wincing now and again at a particularly sharp or unpleasant spike of ki. It was as if a group of mental patients was watching an imaginary soap opera, Mr. Popo decided.

 

There was no psychiatric hospital in the world that could or would keep any of them, but he was right about the reek of melodrama in the air.

 

Vegeta hadn't said a word since putting Vejitto's head through his bathroom floor that morning. With his arms cross and his head held high, he was taking the high road by steadfastly ignoring Vejitto's occasional attempts to goad him. He was leaning against a wall, his arms crossed, glaring off into the distance.

 

Vejitto sat with his back against a tree and idly groomed his tail, giving no sign of how fiercely focused he was on Goku's distant energy. Periodically he would sigh and look up, taking a mental break, and if Vegeta wasn't looking, he'd either bare his teeth at the prince or stick out his tongue. Occasionally he would find a leaf or a twig and get a few moments of entertainment out of trying to land them in the prince's hair. He kept missing, but that seemed deliberate: perhaps he wanted to be as annoying as possible without sparking all-out war. Then his attention would shift back to what was really important today, and his fingers would start combing slowly through his fur again.

 

Piccolo sat nearby, cross-legged a few feet above the ground. He didn't seem quite somber enough for the occasion, somehow. Although his eyes were closed, he had worn a small but persistent smirk since the saiyajins had arrived.

 

Gohan was sitting with his legs dangling off the edge of the platform, leaning forward enough to give a person without the power of flight a heart attack. He was rapidly approaching Vegeta-esque levels of irritable energy, and the others had given him a respectful amount of space.

 

Mr. Popo decided that the chances of chaos erupting in the immediate area were higher than he had patience for at the moment. There was still half of that Chateau Margaux 1804 left, and if he was reasonably discreet, he wouldn't have to share it.

 

No one noticed him leave.

 

 

*****

 

The afternoon stretched under the perfect blue sky. The time for Gohan to go home was approaching with painful slowness. His fragile stomach had been tying itself into increasingly painful knots ever since his dad's ki had started to fluctuate. It was a small variation, the result of emotional stress, and anyone who wasn't completely familiar with Goku's normal state would've missed it completely. As it was, it took a great deal of concentration to get any sense of what was going on.

 

It didn't look particularly good at the moment. Chichi's much fainter ki was nearly impossible to read in the shadow of her husband's, but even so it still spiked notably higher and more often as time went on. The level of rage necessary for that chilled his blood.

 

"Is it supposed to take this long?" Piccolo asked no one in particular. His knowledge of human mating habits was sketchy at best, a situation he did not intend to seriously rectify any time soon.

 

They were perhaps not the best qualified people to judge what was normal in any relationship, much less one involving a demon princess, a god-like saiyajin, and adultery. Same-sex, pseudo-incestuous, generally freaky adultery too, if you wanted to put that much thought into it. As a group, they seemed to be pondering this matter, when Gohan spoke up suddenly.

 

"Hey, you did tell Goten not to go home before me, right? You told him it was important?"

 

"Of course. Not all of us are stupid," Vejitto said.

 

"Did anyone tell Trunks?"

 

There was a sudden silence as they spread their senses out, widening their narrow focus from Goku's house to the rest of the continent. They had been concentrating too hard. The unique ki signatures of Goten and Trunks, inseparable as always, were easy to spot as the two streaked towards the storm of ki that was Goten's home.

 

With a sinking feeling, the engineers of today's simple exercise in domestic intrigue realized what had happened. They'd overlooked a small truth about the boys, something that had once nearly saved the world and would probably bring it into mortal peril again in the future: Trunks could talk Goten into virtually anything. Trunks' enthusiasm was the kryptonite to Goten's good sense, and it had been that way since Trunks learned to talk and Goten learned to make things explode.

 

They'd told Trunks the minimum he needed to know, but not enough to encourage discretion, even if they'd thought Trunks would have a clue what that meant. They'd also told him to look out for Goten today. Of all people, Trunks was the most likely to take that and twist it into some version of "Hey, let's go see what's going on at your house!"

 

The two of them were almost there.

 

"Shit."

 

Vejitto summed up the situation and turned to Gohan, but the young man was gone. A trail of ki was already fading in the sky in his wake.

 

"A brilliant plan indeed."

 

Vejitto snarled at Piccolo, his tail whipping back and forth, but said nothing. Instead, he jumped up and raised his hand, obviously preparing to IT. His wrist was caught in an unyielding grip before he could finish.

 

"I know of no one, alive or dead, who could be a worse choice than YOU to go pacify that family right now," Vegeta said darkly.

 

"But --"

 

Vegeta cut him off. "Your inability to keep your dick in your pants is what started all this, asshole. You will not make this any harder for him."

 

Vejitto fumed, opened his mouth once or twice without managing to say anything, and then lowered his hand and conceded the point with a sigh.

 

"I despise you when you're right."

 

"I know."

 

Vejitto started to drop back into a fighting stance, looking for some way, any way to work out his frustration. Vegeta smirked and shifted his own position, obviously ready to oblige him. Vejitto tensed, but a clawed hand on his shoulder got his sudden attention.

 

"Pay attention, children," Piccolo said, but neither saiyajin was listening by then.

 

After all, the sudden, massive flare of ki in the distance was hard to miss. There was really no mistaking it.

 

Gotenks.

 

A fraction of a second later, Vejitto had grabbed Vegeta's hand and the two of them flickered out of sight. Piccolo didn't even bother checking to see if they'd reappeared near Goku's house. Instead, he adjusted the folds of his cape and turned to Dende, who was still staring off into the distance with big eyes and an open mouth.

 

"Don't worry about it, kid."

 

"B-but..." Dende said in a rush. "This can't end well, can it?"

 

"If there's anyone we can't resurrect, it probably won't be anyone we'll miss."

 

"But..."

 

Piccolo started to walk away, but he offered one last morsel of advice over his shoulder. "Just remember this, Dende, in case it ever happens to you: Love stinks."

 

Bewildered and alarmed, the Guardian of Earth watched him go, and wondered if he would ever understand anyone on this planet. So far, all signs pointed to NO.

 

 

~to be continued~