Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Trinity ❯ Chapter 3

Trinity

Author: Xero Sky

Pairings: Oh, Vegeta, Vejitto, and Goku, or various combinations thereof.

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

Author's note: /.../ means telepathic speech. Thanks to legendary chibi vegeta for beta reading.

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

Chapter 3

"I've got to go, Chichi. I'm gonna be late!"

"Son Goku, you get back here and answer my questions! How do I know this is a job, and not some excuse to go playing around with the bastard no ouji?" Chichi yelled through the kitchen door. She had her hand on one hip, and the other hand brandished a palm-sized interface for the household computer. Behind her, if Goku had bothered to turn around and look, the details of their finances hovered in the air above the kitchen table, dialed up wide as if he couldn't understand it in a smaller size. Before he'd died, most houses hadn't had holographic projection whatever-the-hell they were, and he didn't think this was much of an improvement. He wondered how she could have afforded to have it all installed if she'd been so poor while he was dead.

He didn't have time for this. "Chichi, do you have ANY idea what Vegeta's gonna be like if I'm late on my first day? Go ask Bulma your questions! She's the one paying me!! And don't talk about Vegeta that way!"

With that, he did the single most irritating thing he could have done to her. Pressing two fingers to his forehead, he phased out, having gotten the last word.

As he reappeared above the beach, it occurred to him that he'd just unleashed his wife on one of his oldest friends. He winced, and was greeted with throaty laughter from his new employer.

"Anticipating your first paid ass-kicking, Kakarot?"

"Uh, yeah, Vegeta, right…"

Horrific violence ensued.

********************

Goten didn't like school.

He wasn't stupid, and he could generally master whatever topic he chose. The problem was simply that he didn't really see the point of it all. The lessons that his short life had taught him were fairly short and brutal, and had nothing at all to do with the things the teachers told him were most important.

For instance, exactly where, in all this stuff about obeying your elders and where cheese came from and the mysteries of fractions, did it say anything at all about training for the next big bad thing to threaten the planet? Where was the useful stuff, like how to manipulate your ki into rings, like Vegeta could, or how to teleport, like his dad did?

He was really good with some subjects, like language class and reading, because they were so easy he didn't have to think about them. He also did pretty well with math and science. Those weren't as easy, but there was no way he was going to let Trunks be so much better at something than he was. He didn't mind if Trunks was a little bit better, but he wasn't going to let him get so far out in front, even if his best friend was a year older.

Goten knew full well that the tests they'd made him take said he was quite intelligent but very unfocused. His mother had had a fit over that report, adding an extra hour to his study time every day. It didn't matter much to him because he just didn't care about the things they were teaching him. The competition with Trunks mattered. Keeping his mom from yelling at him mattered. Some things were interesting. Other than that…

He yawned and stared out the window, wondering what Trunks was doing in the next building. He could feel his friend's ki dipping down low, and he figured that Trunks must be in one of the classes he hated, like art or something. Goten looked at the clock and sighed. It was another fifteen minutes until gym class. Not that gym class was very much fun either.

His mother had forbidden, absolutely forbidden him to let the other kids know he was anything special. That meant no flying, no sparring with Trunks, and absolutely nothing like ki blasts or anything else fun. It was like she didn't want him to be saiyajin at all. It hadn't really been that bad before his dad came back, but now… Goten sighed.

Then he perked up slightly. Trunks had gym at the same time he did, and he'd said he had something extra cool to show Goten. Maybe he could see whatever it was in class. That would be fun. Trunks always had cool ideas and things to do.

And after gym was lunch!!

Goten smiled for the first time since the schoolday started.

*****************

Vejitto watched the whole bizarre display. It wasn't like he had much reference for what he was seeing. Goku hadn't gone to any school, and Vegeta's education had been that of a saiyajin prince. In neither of his previous lives had education involved dressing exactly like a couple of hundred other children and going through a few pathetic stretches exactly like everyone else was doing, at the same time. What was the point of that? Where was the challenge? Why would a person want to look just like everyone else? What could they possibly be learning?

Ningens were a freaking mystery.

He wasn't here to learn more about the mysteries of ningen education, though. He was here with a very definite goal in mind. Right now he stood in the air a couple of hundred feet above the neat rows of ningen children doing their calisthenics. None of them bothered to look up, so intent were they on doing everything exactly alike, but he cast a careful eye over them. His own ki was shielded, but he could easily tell that the ones he wanted were there. Now he just had to pick them out of the crowd…

Rows of ningens in the front. In the back were the animorphs, or whatever they were called, the evolved animals like foxes and badgers and such, who were bigger and more developed than the ningen children but still forced to do the same exercises with them. And behind them…

Vejitto grinned as he watched the two small figures effortlessly leap over the fence and head into the forest. It would be impossible, of course, to keep even partly-saiyajin children interested in such a stupid routine.

From his elevation, he watched them creep stealthily through the woods until they found a place that looked fairly secluded. Then Trunks produced something from under his shirt, and the two of them crouched over whatever it was for a long time, looking at it.

Vejitto watched, waiting for them to move, but they were obviously transfixed. Making sure his ki was absolutely shielded, he descended until he was only a few feet over their oblivious heads. Peering down, he had to wait until Goten sat back with a thump before he could catch sight of what they were looking at.

Damn…

Vejitto had never in his life been so grateful for the mingled histories of his forefathers, so to speak. Goku would have had very little idea what he was looking at. Bondage magazines were entirely outside his experience. As befitted his royal heritage, however, Vegeta was a pervert. Vejitto had several memories that explained exactly what the leather and the shiny bits were for.

His laughter immediately gave the game away.

Both boys nearly leaped out of their skins. Vejitto noted with some pride that they both landed in fighting positions. Almost immediately, though, both of them blushed in embarrassment. Trunks snarled at him, but it wasn't a very good display.

Goten just looked like the world was about to end.

Considering what the brat had already lived through in his short life, Vejitto thought, getting caught looking at porn really shouldn't be that big a deal. After all, it was pretty obvious that he was too young to know what he was looking at, except that it was "bad" and therefore irresistible. Neither of them did.

Vejitto couldn't stop himself from following up on his crueler impulses, regardless of how kawaii his offspring were at the moment.

"Where did you get this?" he asked sternly, thrashing his tail around in a ferocious display before snapping it around his waist again.

The two of them stared at each other for a moment before Trunks stood up straight and crossed his arms. "It's mine," he said, refusing to be cowed.

"Where did you get it?" Vejitto asked, scowling. He knew exactly the effect he was having on Trunks. He was all of Vegeta's attitude, plus Goku's height. Trunks wasn't used to having to look quite that far up when he faced to his father.

"From Gohan," the young prince said stoutly.

"Gohan gave you this?" Vejitto asked incredulously, scooping up the magazine and shaking it for emphasis. It was pretty damned kinky, by ningen standards.

"No…"

Significant glances were exchanged between two guilty boys.

"Hn…" Vejitto crossed his arms and glared. "You stole it? A saiyajin prince, stealing pornography?"

"Well," Trunks said carefully. "He wasn't going to give it to us, was he?"

Vegeta would have sent the brat through the nearest tree. Vegeta loved his son in much the same way his own father had loved him. Trunks was being raised the same way, too. Without all the planet purging and vicious alien tyrants, of course. Vegeta was as likely to show his cautious adoration of his son through discipline as through affection.

Of course, Vejitto was not Vegeta. Having had fusion experience themselves, the boys were more comfortable with him than any of the others were. They also understood how he was unique, not just an alloy of their fathers. Trunks instinctively knew he stood a better chance with Vejitto than with his own father, despite Vejitto's fierce scowl.

He was right, of course. Vejitto wasn't here to bust their chops. He was here to aid and abet the truancy of minors.

"No, Gohan probably wouldn't," Vejitto said harshly, leaving aside the question of why sweet, innocent Gohan had the magazine in the first place. "If I catch you stealing again, though, I'm going to turn you both over to Vegeta and Chichi. After I get through with you. Understood?"

Both boys swallowed hard and nodded solemnly.

The magazine was suddenly gone with a bright flare of heat. Vejitto blew the ashes off his fingertips and crouched down so that he was at eye level with the boys. He flashed them both a grin.

"So… Who wants to spar?"

******************

Bulma did not have time for this. She had about half an hour to get this final production model out of her lab and down to Engineering. The stupid thing would already be done if it weren't for the presence of Son Chichi, who was being at least four times more annoying than usual. In fact, the woman was about to volunteer herself as a test subject for the next really painful thing that Bulma could think of, if she didn't shut up.

It wasn't as if she didn't know what Chichi was like. After all, she had known the woman for most of her life. They had very little in common, however, other than the saiyajins they had married and the demi-saiyajins they'd given birth to. Bulma was brilliant, urbane, and adventurous. Chichi was smart, too, but she was also introverted, rural, and, for reasons which escaped Bulma entirely, obsessed with leading a normal, respectable life.

Bulma remembered the Chichi she'd first met, parading around in a bikini and a helmet, gleefully kicking as much ass as she could. What had happened to that girl? Goku had been gone a lot, certainly, dead and otherwise, but had that been enough to turn her into this woman?

"I can't believe you're going along with this," Chichi fumed. Bulma sighed and rubbed her temples. "You know they're just out there goofing off."

"What difference does it make what they're doing? Vegeta needs a partner, and who better than Goku?" Bulma said, her voice falsely cheerful.

"Goku needs to settle down and get a real job, instead of playing around all day."

That was probably the fourth time Chichi had said that in the last 10 minutes. It was enough.

Bulma slapped her calibrator down on the bench and turned to face the woman. "Look, what the hell is your problem? I know I'm paying him more than enough to cover your expenses, so it isn't the money. You know you married a saiyajin, right? What kind of job do you expect him to have? Hasn't he already done enough?"

Steely black eyes looked into blue. "I know what I married. And we live here, and now, and this is where my sons are growing up. He owes us!"

"Owes you what? His life? No, I think we all owe him, Chichi. More times over than I can count. I'm sorry for you he stayed dead for so long, but would it kill you to enjoy him now that he's here?" Bulma snapped at her.

Chichi snarled at her. "It's none of your business! Goku's quitting that job tomorrow!"

"Like hell he is! He did what you told him to do. He found a job that pays better than anything else he's qualified to do, and if you think Vegeta's going to let him walk away from it, you haven't learned a goddamned thing about saiyajins."

Chichi suddenly got cold, in a way that Bulma didn't like. It was as if she'd just been flash frozen from the inside. With a deeply unpleasant smile, she said "You know, I've heard enough about saiyajins lately. How special they are. How wild and free. How lucky we are to have them here to save us. Fuck that."

Bulma stared at her, speechless for once.

"This isn't about them," Chichi continued, as if she was explaining this to a small child. "It's about my sons growing up here and now, on this planet. They're nice, normal boys, or they would be, if they didn't have such a bad example to follow!"

Bulma smiled unpleasantly. She hated this. She hated anyone talking badly about Goku. She'd lived with it for years with Vegeta mostly because she knew it was reflexive, something he couldn't help. Even in the early years, when she'd been convinced of his hatred and contempt for her friend, Bulma had recognized that Vegeta simply couldn't react to him any other way. Everything about his background led him to think that way about Goku.

But Chichi… Kami… She was Goku's wife. How could she say these things?

Furious and hurt on Goku's behalf, Bulma clenched her teeth, not wanting to make things worse for him. It wasn't really in her nature to restrain herself much, however, and something did come out, even if it was only a pale reflection of what she really thought.

"Maybe you should stop for a moment, Chichi, and think about the example YOU are setting for them. Do they really need to know how much you hate their father?"

With that, she scooped up the prototype and just walked out, not wanting to hear another word. Goku had a job, and there was no way Vegeta was going to let him out of it, anyway. She might not really understand why Vegeta had done it, but she wasn't surprised. The saiyajin prince hadn't exactly mellowed over the years, but he had changed; Bulma knew how gratifying it must be for him to have Goku paid to spar with him, like a servant. Not to mention, she thought suddenly, having all of Goku's attention to himself.

Bemused by that idea, she made her way to Engineering. Within a few moments, she had almost forgotten about Chichi, who was still standing in the deserted lab. For a minute the dark-haired woman did nothing at all, but then, with a small smile, she said, faintly, "But I don't hate him. What kind of proper wife hates her husband?"

No one answered her. After a little while, she left Capsule Corps, going home to make sure the house was clean before the boys got home.

********************

Vegeta was ungodly fast with his feet.

That was Goku's first lesson.

The second was that being able to ascend to the third level was no advantage at all with the prince. Since he knew Goku could push it up a level higher than he could, Vegeta held absolutely nothing back when fighting him. Every technique, every dirty trick, every clever thing Vegeta could think of went into the fight.

By noon, Goku was bloody and starving.

It was one of the best days of his life.

It felt so good fighting with Vegeta. It was something he hadn't really had much chance to do before, at least not like this. He'd held back in the Majin fight and Vegeta had knocked him senseless. He'd flat-out lost their first fight. It didn't matter to him that Vegeta had gone oozaru while he hadn't been able to. A good warrior used whatever resources he had. If it hadn't been for the others coming to his rescue, Vegeta would have killed him. Since then, well… Even when Goku hadn't been dead, it wasn't like they were friendly enough to train together.

They still weren't. Well, not exactly. Aside from the kind of taunts opponents usually threw at each other among the punches, Vegeta hadn't said much of anything to him. That was fine. He hadn't been dishing out the usual insults and contemptuous remarks, either. Both of them had simply concentrated on the fighting.

And, damn him, but the fighting was spectacular. He hadn't had a fight this good for years. Oh, Buu had been formidable, but, after all, he'd inherited most of his techniques from the people he'd absorbed. Goku hadn't been able to match his power, but nothing the freaky demon had done had really surprised him at all. Fighting with Vegeta was simply so much better in every way.

The agile, wily prince had learned his skills all over the galaxy, and he was constantly coming up with combinations and attacks that Goku hadn't expected. He had enough raw power to match Goku at any level below the third one, and he had even more experience as a fighter.

That didn't mean that Goku wasn't able to keep up with him. Far from it. It simply meant that nothing about the fighting was routine. He was kept on his toes and absorbed in the action in a way he rarely was by anything anymore.

It was bloody and dangerous, yes, but for warriors, saiyajin warriors, it was probably the best thing there was. It could have gone on indefinitely, were it not for one simple thing.

Vegeta refused to stop for lunch until one or the other of them scored a decisive blow, the kind that could end a battle being waged for real. And neither one of them could get that far inside the other's defenses.

By afternoon, Goku was certain he was about to die from malnutrition. He'd gotten several good shots in, and suffered several himself, but nothing was good enough for Vegeta. Goku didn't want to ascend another level, but, damn, he was getting frustrated with the prince. Why wasn't this good enough? Why wasn't the damned ouji hungry?

Frustrated, he growled deep in his throat as Vegeta flashed towards him with another attack, sending one of those devastating kicks towards his head again. This time, instead of countering it as he normally would have, Goku simply grabbed Vegeta's ankle, pulled it up high, and used his momentum and his fist to punch the royal saiyajin in the balls as hard as he could.

From the sudden high-pitched noise Vegeta made, he guessed that he'd finally earned his lunch.

Fifteen minutes later he was sitting on the grass with a substantial feast spread out between himself and a sullen Vegeta. Once he'd picked himself up off the ground, the prince had tossed his knapsack at Goku and left the younger saiyajin to dig out the capsule with the food. He'd just sat there, his arms and legs crossed, while Goku had gotten everything ready for them. Vegeta didn't seem very comfortable. He didn't seem to have much of an appetite either, which told Goku exactly how much he'd hurt him. His own balls seemed to ache sympathetically.

It was weird, though. He didn't much feel like apologizing, even though that was what he'd always done in the past when this sort of thing happened. It had been a fair fight and a good hit. Nothing wrong with it. He didn't think Vegeta would appreciate an apology, either. He stopped eating for a second, considering. An apology sort of made it seem like the hit was an accident or something. He knew he wouldn't want to be in that much pain from a stupid mistake. And with Vegeta's pride, he'd like it even less.

Shit. No wonder he annoyed the prince so much. Well, he'd have to watch that in the future. The prince probably felt lonely enough without Goku pushing him off any further. Except for Bulma and Trunks, Vegeta didn't have anyone else but Goku. Poor guy.

He went back to eating, unaware of Vegeta's eyes on him.

The meal disappeared quickly, despite the quantities involved. Goku encapsulated the remains, while Vegeta, evidently feeling better, stood up and stretched.

After a moment, he turned to Goku and arched an eyebrow. "Ready?"

"Always," Goku said, baring his teeth. He moved into a ready position and tensed slightly, preparing to make the first move.

The huge surge of ki to the west made both saiyajins stop and stare. The sources of the enormous energy were miles away and invisible to the eye, but there was no mistaking them.

One was Vejitto, powered up to the first level.

The other was Gotenks.

"Oh, shit," Goku moaned. "Chichi's gonna kill me."

~tbc~