Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Wish For The Past ❯ Telephone Blues ( Chapter 4 )

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

(A/N: Goten did NOT tell Bardock about being a Super Saiya-jin. Or about any of his friends/family being SSJ. Conveniently slipped his mind. So, as far as Bardock knows, no one has achieved the legendary status of SSJ.)

Disclaimer: Who says I don't own DBZ? Can any of you prove it? *gets poked in the back by Mirai Trunks's sword* Er... *coughs* I guess Trunks can. Okay, okay, I don't own DBZ. But maybe I can convince Trunks to sell me his sword.... No? Darn.

"Moshi moshi, Briefs' residence," Trunks answered the phone. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable storm of rage and verbal abuse that was Son Chi-Chi. Maybe if he held the phone away from his ears he could get through this without going deaf....

"Hi there! I'm calling on behalf of Waves and Rocks satellite TV. We have a brand new satellite dish that, for a moderate fee, we can install in your home! With this new dish you'll have the ability to receive thousands of channels from all over the world." At this point, Trunks stopped listening. He stared incredulously at the phone in his hands, mouth hanging open in surprise. It wasn't Chi-Chi. It was a telemarketer.

"And if you subscribe now-"

"If you ever call this house again," Trunks interrupted in a fit of rage, his voice escalating to rival his mother's, "I'll rig the phone to send a feedback loop that'll make your phone explode in your face!!!" The person on the other end hastily hung up.

Bulma scowled at Trunks. "What? It was a telemarketer. And besides," Trunks explained sheepishly, "we already have what they were trying to sell us." The frown on his mother's face lightened. Kami knows she herself has a short enough temper when it comes to telemarketers. Still...

"I didn't know you could rig a feedback that would produce those results." Bulma was intrigued by the idea.

"I can't," Trunks smirked. "But they don't know that."

Vegeta smirked at his son with pride. The brat definitely took after his father.

"I wonder if I could make a device that did something like that..." Bulma's eyes glazed over in thought. "Maybe if I..." she trailed off, taking a few steps in the direction of her lab, her mind already racing at light speed.

The purple topped demi-saiyan heaved a sigh of relief. It looked like his death sentence had been postponed.

BAM! BAM! BAM! "Bulma, I know you're in there!! Open this door right now or I'll break it down myself!!"

All three occupants of the room flinched. Vegeta hastily vacated the room, muttering something about having to train to 'show that baka third class Saiya-jin who is the strongest'. Bulma turned back to her son, a dangerous gleam in her eyes. "Trunks, as punishment, you get to answer the door and tell Chi-Chi what happened." That said, she quickly retreated to the far side of the room and sat on the couch. She felt that she needed to be there to make sure things didn't get too out of hand. And to make sure that Trunks told Chi-Chi the truth. Trunks, resigned to his fate, miserably approached the door and opened it to find a startled Chi-Chi, her hand raised as if about to start pounding on the door again. In her other hand was her infamous, slightly dented frying pan. Trunks gulped.

"Oh, hello there, Trunks," Chi-Chi blinked down at the little boy. "I guess if you're here, that means Goten's back as well." She stalked into the Briefs' home, looking around for her little Goten. Behind her, Goku and Gohan shrugged at Trunks apologetically as they followed the female Son inside. "GOTEN!!! If you know what's good for you, you'll come out RIGHT NOW!!! Believe me, young man, you couldn't possibly get into any worse trouble than you're already in!" Trunks could have sworn he felt the house shake down to its foundation from the sheer volume of the black haired woman's voice.

Oh boy. I almost wish I was in Hell with Goten, instead of here. Well, might as well get this over with. Goten, my friend, I have a strong feeling I'm about to join you up there.

"Chi-Chi-san, Goten's not here," the doomed chibi hurriedly stated, the words tumbling out on their own. "He and I gathered the dragonballs and he wished he could meet his grandpa - that's Goku-san's dad, not the Ox King - and he didn't say where he wanted to meet him, so now he's in Hell."

Silence reigned for about one second before -

"My baby is WHERE?!"

Goten was bored. He wished Trunks was with him so he could have someone to talk to. (Trunks wished he was with Goten, too, but Goten didn't know that.) Either night lasted longer on Vegeta-sei than it did on Chikyuu, or Bardock was a late sleeper. Either way, Goten was wide awake in his grandfather's apartment while said relative slept like a log. So, to pass the time, he decided to explore his new, albeit temporary, if he had anything to say about it, home.

The quarters consisted of one bedroom, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a closet where Bardock kept clothes and armor. That was it. He and Bardock had shared the single bed, which was, fortunately, large enough to accommodate the both of them. And at least the bathroom had a tub and shower. Goten had heard that some societies used communal baths and, while he wasn't body shy in the least, he didn't really feel like being around a lot of people he didn't know while he was taking a bath. Especially since he was supposed to pretend he was someone else, namely his dad.

"My name is Kakarot. My name is Kakarot," he said to himself quietly, over and over. Best to get used to this now so he didn't risk slipping up in front of someone else. Currently he was poking around in the kitchen, mentally comparing it to the one his mother used at home. One table and two chairs sat in the middle of the room. Obviously, Bardock wasn't used to having a lot of company over. A drawer that had a few eating utensils. A cupboard with ten glasses, ten plates, ten bowls, and a few other odds and ends. A rather large refrigerator took up most of one wall. A trash can in the corner. A sink with a few more dishes was set into the opposite wall. Under the sink there was a larger cupboard where Bardock stored his pots and pans. All in all, Goten concluded, a fairly typical kitchen.

The rest of the house was depressingly empty. The little chibi supposed that was the case with most warriors like Bardock, though he couldn't be certain. Vegeta certainly hadn't been one to collect niknaks. Maybe there was something else under the sink with the pans. Only one way to find out!

Bardock was having a rather pleasant dream involving a rather large amount of food. He wasn't exactly sure what he was eating, since it was a dream, but he knew that it was good and there was plenty of it. Dreams just didn't get much better than this. Dream Bardock lifted a dream steak, or something, to his mouth, about to take a bite. In reality, his limbs were splayed across the bed, his head tilted to one side, and a thin line of drool trickled from the corner of his mouth, which was smiling in bliss. The dream was almost vivid enough to taste.

Crash! Clatter! Clang!

The noise scared Bardock out of the dream, a rush of adrenaline bringing him wide awake as he shot out of bed. Tripping over the armor he had left on the floor last night, he flew across the room and crashed into the wall head first.

"Itai!!! Kuso, that hurt!" Bardock glared at the armor, cursing himself for not putting it away before he went to bed. Rubbing his injured head, he darted out of the room, half dressed, to find the source of the noise that had awakened him.

In the kitchen, he found Goten in a pile of pots and pans, the doors of the cupboard under the sink open. The demi-saiyan grinned sheepishly up at his grandpa. "Oops. Sorry!"

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