RR76: I'm certain that more than a few of my faithful readers (at this point I think I have two left) are scratching their heads and asking yourselves "omg wtf?" Let me explain.

I won't bore you with the details, but suffice to say, my inspiration has been zip this whole year. I've been working on the same damn chapter for Sound and Fury for seven months now, and after all these months, I'm only halfway through.

One night, while watching my uncle's house as he spent the weekend in Monteray, I ended up stumbling onto a Sailor Moon video, I don't remember what it was--DEFINATELY not an AMV, which happen to be the bane of my existence. I watched. I laughed. I enjoyed.

Not too long before this, I'd found a website that had old Dragon Ball Z episodes available for viewing. Legally, of course. Ahem. I'd entertained myself with these for a month or two.

So then an idea popped into my head. And I kicked it around, twisting it into various pleasing shapes and forms, until I got it more or less in a shape that I liked it in. And heck, when I finally sat down to write it, the ideas flowed so naturally and almost nonstop; it was like a laxative for my mind.

And then the computer locked up, and I had to start from scratch, resulting in a less-enjoyable version of this chapter that I'd worked on for several hours.

...But I'm not bitter.

Feel free to read, or not. That's a lie. I'd like you to read, and to tell me your honest opinion of it, whether it rules and I should continue, whether it needs work but is still enjoyable, or whether I should delete it and stick to my day job.

Expand on the criteria all you like. Read, my pretties, read...

A bit of background info first: My brother was a giganimous Sailor Moon fan in his earlier years--early to mid teens--and with so little to do at any given point of time, I ended up watching it with him, and enjoying it to a certain extent. Thanks to an airtight memory that absorbs useless information like a sponge, I still remember most of the stuff I'd gleaned from the show, and what I couldn't remember (or what just plain didn't make sense) I gathered from Wikipedia and a few other sources for the purposes of writing this fic. While I was never the giganimous Sailor Moon fan that my brother was--he was borderline obsessive--I have alot of nostalgia about Sailor Moon, even if I can acknowledge that it's predictable and formulaic, and can be hard to watch sometimes because the dialogue is sophomoric and often gives away critical plot elements like free samples of laundry detergent.

As far as DBZ is concerned, I don't think there's too many boys (girls?) who didn't watch it for a period of time in their childhood, and even now, as childish as it seems, I still think that it can be a fun show to watch, as long as it's uncut. None of that "next dimension," bullshit. Definately alot of nostalgia for DBZ, and as hard as I try to find fault, I really can't alot of the time. Basically, this story is being written for the sake of my nostalgia, as well as giving an opportunity for my favorite character, Goten, to show what he's really made of. I mean, he's always secondary to Trunks or Gohan. Trunks got to kick Buu in the face AND piss on Broly's head, and what did Goten do? Seriously. That kid needs some damn recognition, and if I have my way, he will.

...You've tarried long enough. Please read now.

Days as lovely as this were few and far in between. With temperatures in the mid seventies, and a wide, cloudless expanse of blue sky, it seemed like the perfect day for an outing to the beach with friends or a quiet stroll through the woods with a lover. A beautiful, serene day.

None of this occurred to Trunks Briefs as he sailed through the air and slammed hard into a massive rock formation, which immediately crumbled and collapsed onto the Super Saiyan, burying him under hundreds of pounds of rubble. Battered and beaten, but still alive, Trunks lay for a moment and wondered just how the hell he had gotten into this situation.

He'd seen more physically intimidating creatures than the one he faced now. He had squared off with the ruthless androids--cyborgs who had plagued his world for as long as he could remember. He'd fought and killed the galactic menace Frieza in a single blow. He had gone toe-to-toe with the abomination that was Cell and had come out of the encounter standing, and mostly intact. Hell, he'd even died. How many people can say that they've died, and lived to brag about it? And yet, what he now faced was more powerful, more beastly, more terrifying than anything he'd yet encountered.

The monster he was fighting was a blubbery pink buffoon.

Sure, he looked innocent enough. His laugh was childish and cute. His voice, his tone, his mannerisms, were all like those of a curious young boy. But this Majin Buu held a menace that far outshone any of these qualities. A menace that chilled Trunks to the bone, a casual, playful sort of way of doing his evil deeds that was just downright unnatural and unsettling.

But it wasn't this that irked Trunks so. He was used to ruthlessness and terror--been there, done that. It was the squat, catfish-like wizard that tugged Buu's strings that got to him. It was, specifically his laughter--oh, Kami, how he hated the laughter.

And speak of the devil, there it was, drifting across the wind and meeting his ears, a high-pitched squeaky noise that frothed with humorless mirth. More than anything else, more than the broken ribs and the steady trickle of blood down his face, Trunks hated Babidi's laughter.

"You don't learn your lessons well, do you?" The mocking Trunks could accept. The laughter, not so much. "Time after time you keep charging, and time after time, my Buu throws you aside like a rag doll. You must be getting tired of the same old routine. My offer still stands you know. You can lay down your arms and die peacefully with the rest of this planet, or you can join us. It's really your decision though, and I can't make it for you." Babidi chuckled again.

Trunks ground his teeth together in frustration. The laughter.

Slowly, wincing at the pain it caused him to do so, he reached into his trousers-pocket, feeling around for the ancient, worn-out burlap pouch.. Trunks' fingers entered the pouch, and counted off the remaining senzu (eight) before taking one and raising it gingerly to his mouth.

The bitter taste spread quickly as he bit down on the bean. Senzu weren't his favorite food, but they were quite handy in a pinch. As the magic bean worked its way through his system, Trunks felt his energy return. His aura sprang into being once more and expanded, incinerating his rocky tomb in a flash of golden light.

When the light faded, Trunks was standing amid the remaining rubble, upright and proud, his sword slung over his back, golden hair standing on end. "You don't seem to understand, Babidi," Trunks called back, "I'm not some two-bit washed up fighter like the rest of your slaves. I'm a Super Saiyan, and I'll be damned before I just hand this world over to you!" He seethed with pride at his bold statements, empty as this may be. Truly, Trunks had found that his luck was running dangerously thin, and he doubted he could back up his declaration.

The taunt didn't faze Babidi. "Those are bold words, kiddo, but from what I've seen so far, you really can't back any of it up, can you?"

Well, damn.

Babidi practically reeked of his own self-satisfaction. "I tell you what. I'm actually getting bored with your show of testosterone, so I'll give you one chance, just one more chance, to give Buu everything you've got, take it or leave it." Babidi's smug grin seemed only to stretch into infinity. "We're waiting with baited breath for your answer."

Trunks counted his opponents. There was Buu, bouncing back and forth from one foot to the other with his stupid, oblivious smile on his face. Babidi stood by to him, the vertically challenged coward of a wizard. And there was a third fighter--bald, with a thin, snakelike mustache, the ends of which drooped downward to frame a salt-and-pepper goatee. A brown gi was draped over his muscular, hair-covered body.

It was then that Trunks weighed his options. Either charge once again, and be tossed aside like a rag doll, slowly but surely using up his remaining senzu, or throw everything he had at his enemies in one, mortal blow, and possibly take Buu, Babidi, or at least that showboating Majin Satan with him. Very quickly, he made his decision.

Raising his hands over his head, one palm behind the other, Trunks began to focus all his energy into one strike. This one's for you, Gohan.

Unbeknowst to the participants in that showdown, another titanic battle was being fought here, in a timeline that flowed parallel to the one Trunks knew. This fight, however, was fought not between mortal enemies for the sake of the Earth.

No, this fight was fought for fun.

Two boys aged eight and nine respectively threw themselves at each other with all their might. Goten, second son to Goku, against Trunks, only son to Vegeta. They were the offspring of the last surviving members of the Saiyan race, best friends and occasional rivals. Their hair, golden from their Super Saiyan transformations, danced around them as they fought, trading blows like the expert fighters they were. Having discovered the power of the fusion technique, and having been quite helpless to stop Majin Buu (and later Hildegarn) Trunks and Goten had taken it unto themselves to hone their skills, and to perfect their Super Saiyan transformation, as their fathers had done so many years ago.

Though they took on the training with eagerness, the task before them was downright daunting. Their goal was to maintain the Super Saiyan form for as long as possible, in order to confront and overcome the negative effects that it brought on, and to become proficiant enough with the transformation that it could be maintained almost subconciously. Admittedly, this posed a problem at first. The strain it put on their bodies, not to mention their dramatically decreased tempers, was quite troublesome in the first few months. Even the normally affable Goten had undergone a dramatic change in personality for the worse. Despite this, however, and in spite of the many objections from their mothers, their fathers knew the necessity of their training, and allowed them to continue, helping them along the way.

And eventually, they had managed to overcome the early obstacles. The power strain was virtually nil, and the temper issues had all but been resolved. Goten and Trunks could now maintain their transformations for indefinite periods of time--even sleeping in the Super Saiyan state--without reverting to their base forms, and the power increase they had gained through their training was phenomenal. Even the normally aloof and reserved Piccolo had expressed a certain level of surprise at their power increase. The duo had begun to cement their place in the upper echelon of the Earth's heroes, emerging from the shadows of their elders at quite an early age.

Goten and Trunks broke apart for a breather, springing several paces away from each other. Goten plopped down in front of a rock formation, relaxing in the shade it provided and reclining against it, panting and wiping the sweat from his brow.

A few feet in front of him stood Trunks, seemingly unfatigued from their workout. "Tired already?" His bright yellow hair shone in the afternoon sun like some sort of bizarre crown. "Come on Goten, it's only been four hours! Looks to me like somebody's been stuffing himself again. What, was Videl over for dinner last night?"

"Hey!" said Goten defensively. "Mom cooks her best meals when we have company for dinner; I can't help it if I can't get enough." He paused to consider this. "Can I?"

Trunks folded his arms and thought about this. "Well, my dad likes to say 'discipline is the path of the true warrior,' but then again he eats more than almost anyone I know and he's still the strongest guy on the planet.

Goten cleared his throat loudly and gave Trunks a pointed look. The lavender-haired boy rolled his eyes. "Fine, not counting Super Saiyan 3s." Goten narrowed his eyes at his friend, and Trunks further conceded, "Or Gohan. Not counting Super Saiyan 3s or that spiffy transformation that Gohan does." He screwed his face up in concentration for a second, and asked "What was it we were talking about?"

Goten pondered this for a moment. "Ummmm...I don't remember," he said. He grinned, a big sheepish grin that he could only have inherited from Goku.

Trunks chuckled. Goten's grin never failed to make him laugh. "You big goof," he said under his breath, as the laughter worked its way out of his system. "So...are we gonna do this, or what? Cuz my mom says that if I'm not home by eight, I shouldn't bother coming home at all."

"That's kinda harsh," Goten said, standing up.

Trunks shrugged. "She gets that way, like, once a month. I asked her about it once, and she just got all quiet and sent me to my room. I guess it's a mom thing." His short attention span sprang into action, as he excitedly said "Hey, you know something we haven't done in a while?"

Goten smiled broadly, instantly knowing that it was Trunks was referring to. They'd seen super-charged ki blasts grapple against each other, and had watched in rapt fixation as the combatants struggled to overcome one another. It was an activity the two of them had tried time and again, and it was one that they were both quite fond of. Goten sprang forward, grinning with anticipation. "Yeeeaaaah...! This'll be fun!"

Trunks' aura came to life around him, as Gotens' flared into existence opposite him. Taking a posture that had been in his family since Grandpa Gohan's days, he began channeling his ki between his hands, cupped just behind him. "Ka...me...ha...me..."

Trunks smirked as he assumed his own stance, palms thrust in front of him, connected at the wrists, bent at a 90 degree angle, fingers spread. He'd developed this attack on his own, not like that hand-me-down Kamehameha wave, and he was anxious to finally get a chance to showcase it.

Another dimension. Another Earth, radically different from the prior two that appeared. A world that bore almost no resemblance to that of the Dragon Balls. A world that was untouched by the machinations of Frieza, the devestation wrought by the Androids, or the terrors of Majin Buu. A world that had never in recent memory been blown into oblivion, or reduced to a fraction of its population. A world that nonetheless had seen its share of crimes, perpetrated by humanity, against humanity.

A world that was blissfully unaware of being caught in the midst of a vicious power struggle. A world that was defended by the most unlikely and incompetent of heroines.

Serena Tsuniko, alias Sailor Moon, slammed into the side of a building at a high velocity. Picking herself up, she rubbed the spot where her bottom had come into contact with the concrete. "Owww...that's gonna smart..."

"Eyes front, meatball head!"

Sailor Mars' warning reached her ears just in time. With a yelp, Sailor Moon ducked under a lightning-fast attack from the lemures that she and her allies were locked in battle with--an attack in the form of a soccer ball, of all things.

In front of her were two people. One was the lemures, female in personality, rotund and checkered black and white. The other was a tall man with long, blonde-reddish hair, looking to be in his early twenties. A whip was clutched tightly in his hand--his grip made it clear that he was quite frustrated. "Sakkaasan," he said through gritted teeth, "were you drinking before I brought you here? Because I'm finding it increasingly hard to believe that anyone could miss so often in the span of five minutes without being under the influence!" He punctuated the sentence with a loud crack of his whip.

Sakkaasan turned to face him and shrugged. "Hey, a girl's got needs too ya know. Maybe if ya kept that in mind, you wouldn't strike out so much with your targets, eh Tigers' Eye?" She waggled her eyebrows at him suggestively.

Tigers' Eye glared at her. "I'd keep my nose out of other people's business, if I were--"

"Sparkling Wide Pressure!" An orb of bright lightning, true to its name, slammed into Sakkaasan, knocking her onto her back and revealing an inherent flaw in her design.

"Help! I've fallen and I can't get up! Somebody help me! I need the ACLU! I need Amnesty International! Help me Nelson Mandela!"

Tigers' Eye shook his head and covered his eyes in embarrassment--for both Sakkaasan, and for himself for trusting in Sakkaasan in the first place. A ring of fire appeared behind him. "You're on your own, sweet thing," he muttered derisively, and with a graceful back flip into the ring, he was gone.

"Mini-Moon!" Sailor Moon snapped to her pink-haired doppelganger. "Get your tiny butt in gear!"

Sailor Mini-Moon nodded quickly from her position a few feet away. Folding her hands and closing her eyes, she whispered a quick prayer, and raised a hand over her head. A pink bell, carved from fine crystal, appeared in her hand. "Crystal...Twinkle...Yell!"

A ray of shining light burst forth, and out came the head of the graceful, elegant being known as Pegasus.

And with an eardrum-shattering noise, the fabric between dimensions gave way.

Trunks' gaze was fixed on Majin Buu. Yellow energy danced and crackled in his raised hands. "You wanted one last shot? Here it is! Die you damn coward!" He thrust his palms forward. "MASENKO!"

A tremendous beam of yellow light shot from his hands, lancing towards Buu at an alarming speed.

The monster smiled complacently at the attack, waiting until the last possible second, before opening his mouth and responding with an equally powerful, pink energy blast of his own. The beams collided in the center of their battlefield, and all fighters involved heard a loud noise, akin to a gun going off. Bright light enveloped them all, and then they saw nothing.

"HA!" Goten fired a massive blast of blue energy towards Trunks.

His friend unleashed his ki at precicely the same moment, confidence bubbling inside of him. "MOKO TAKABISHA!" A massive sphere of yellow light erupted from his hands, hurtling toward Goten. The blasts met, and suddenly there was a flash, a noise like fireworks going off right by their ears, and the world went black

"Moon...Gorgeous...Meditation!" White light sprang from Sailor Moon's outstretched scepter. The attack struck Sakkaasan, and with a shriek, the lemures dissolved into nothingness.

Finally free from the battle Sailor Moon collapsed to her knees, weary. Her friends were at her side in a heartbeat, and she felt immense gratitude towards each of them individually.

"Um...Sailor Moon?" The voice of Sailor Mini-Moon, trembling nervously, met their ears.

"What's wrong?" asked Sailor Moon. She needn't have asked, however, as the cause was soon evident. The portal that Pegasus had opened to appear to them hadn't yet closed...and it was getting wider.

"Uh..." Sailor Venus stammered nervously. "I'd like that to go away now, pretty please?"

Sailor Mercury's reaction was one of curiosity, rather than fear--the thinker in her was deeply curious at what was going on before her. A transparent, blue-tinted visor slid over her eyes, and a miniature supercomputer analyzed the portal. "It looks like a rupture in the normal space-time continuum. Very interesting."

"Interesting?" The normally unflappable Sailor Jupiter's voice sounded reasonably flapped. "Interesting as in good, or interesting as in 'oh god, we're doomed?'"

"Interesting as in...well, this is very peculiar..." The gears in Sailor Mercury's head cranked almost audibly. "It seems the portal was made by two separate outputs of immense energy, colliding in the exact same spot...but I'm getting two seperate readings of energy, how can that...?" She trailed off, lost in thought.

"That IS interesting," Sailor Moon said, staring up at the halo of golden light above them. "And it means in a language that I understand?"

"Do we always have to connect the dots for you?" Sailor Mars said impatiently. "We could write an encyclopedia on things you can't understand!"

Sailor Moon was, in a heartbeat, facing off with the Soldier of Fire. "You know just as much about this as I do, you-"

"Everyone!" Sailor Mercury sounded panicked. "Something's happening! I don't know-"

There was a bright flash of golden light. The six Sailors shielded themselves from the ring of light floating above them as it contracted, imploding on itself. Before it caved in completely, six rays of light shot off in different directions. One went solo to the south, two went together to the west, and three flew alongside each other to the north.

And just as quickly as it had appeared, the portal vanished.

Sailor Mini-Moon was the first to ask. "What just happened?"

The other four looked to Sailor Mercury for an answer. And for once, she seemed to be at a loss.

NOTES-

The ACLU is the American Civil Liberties Union, which deals with complaints and attacks against, well, civil liberties. I realize the story's set in Japan, but it seemed funny, and I wanted to throw it in there.

Chibi Trunks' attack, Moko Takabisha, is an attack borrowed from the title character of the manga/anime Ranma ½. The technique channels the confidence and determination of the user and enhance his ki with it, focusing it into an energy attack.

"Sakkaasan," is a portmonteau of the romanized Japanese spelling of the words for soccer (sakka, according to my thrashed Japanese textbook) and mother (okaasan), which is a play on the phrase "soccer mom." Heh. [quagmire Allllll riiiight...[/quagmire

"Lemures," was a term used in ancient Rome for ghosts. The term is used for the Sailor Moon monster of the week.

Any giggles or head-to-desk contact that may result from any name, attack, location, or character in this story should be directed at the people who wrote them originally, and not me, I don't come up with this stuff, I just use it in wholly original scenarios. Standard disclamers apply.