Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or DBGT.

A/N: Yes, a time for contemplation. I've suddenly decided I need to type this out and get it off my chest, for some reason I can't seem to stop thinking about it. I sure hope I don't completely confuse anyone, the time and setting will be evident. Piccolo's POV, as usual.

Reflections

Piccolo had long since decided that, even should he wish it, he could never return to his practiced state of attuned detachment. It was that ominous type of aloofness that had been his one, unwavering companion for the first eight years of his life, before Gohan had come along and shattered his perpetual solitude.

And overall, he was thankful for it.

But not on days like this. Days that he knew he should meditate, or train, or just think, but found he could do none of them. Dende was off to the distance, peering over the edge of the Lookout, no doubt contemplating what had brought him to this place he'd grown to call Home.

Piccolo somewhat envied him. Earth was his home, yes. He protected it, many times over. But, unlike Dende, he didn't have a place he could go to feel needed…wanted. Dende had Namek, Piccolo didn't. Piccolo knew nothing on his own about the planet that had birthed his existence, aside from knowledge Nail had given him. But, Namek wasn't his; there wasn't a single person or object on the planet he could claim.

There was Gohan, as always. The one person he didn't care to 'visit' on occasion. The boy…man, was married, fathering a child soon enough and completely absorbed with his own, progressing life. Piccolo was proud of it, decidedly glad that Gohan was doing well.

But Piccolo was tired. Moreso, he was downright lonely. There was a substantial difference between being alone and being lonely. One could easily be alone and not feel the effects of it, sometimes solitude was all Piccolo wanted…and too often received. Piccolo hated it, more of the time than he should have.

Before, it had not been like this.

Before, he would stay consumed by the lust for power, power and more power. Strength of the body, strength of the mind, the need to be stronger and reach new levels, only to become frustrated should he be unable to quench this need as quickly and as directly as possible; it was the way he lived. It was his whole life, becoming ready for the next battle, being considered one of the most feared and dangerous creatures on the planet.

That was before. Gohan changed all that. Piccolo was no longer able to live as he once thought he should, the way he'd been trained to live by his Sire.

Piccolo Daimaou, evil incarnate, the great Demon King.

Kais, he'd not thought of himself as those for…well, too long to try and count. He wondered if his father was laughing at him, if his shrieking bellows could be heard from the underworld. Or, was his father enraged that his protégé, his heir of destruction, had become a part of the z-senshi? That he'd laid down his life, or put it on the line, for the Earth; that he'd made friends most intimately with the Son family, or at least as intimate as Piccolo could get.

His father, should he even take care to observe, would have long since been disgusted by his action and, no doubt, refuted him as a 'son' years ago. Piccolo had not thought on his father in some time, had not had a nightmare plaque him in many a year, had not questioned his purpose.

His purpose for too long had been to protect the Earth, protect Gohan, Goten, and the dim-witted Son Goku, who seemed to attract villains like sugar draws flies. But the Earth was safe, had been for a number of years. Goku, Goten, and Gohan were fine, even relaxed now. There had not been a threat in so long that Piccolo wondered if he would ever be of use again.

And to that degree, how much had he really helped in the last few battles? Buu, he didn't have much of a crack at him…and wouldn't have survived one had been given the chance. Cell, he'd again not even fought him in his perfect form. The Saiyans and their abilities surpassed him at almost every angle.

He was not useless, though. He still thought out plans of attack and maneuvers like nothing the z-senshi have ever seen. There was scarcely an occasion that he found himself unable to think or fight his way through. He prided himself on having one fine head on his shoulders. At the moment, though, there was no battle or need for such skills.

Piccolo, again, tried to reason that he still served a purpose... though he couldn't say exactly what it was.

X-x-X-x-X

Now, it was not a wholly unusual thing that Piccolo should leave the Lookout, so Dende didn't pay that much attention when the warrior took flight. Dende did, however, notice that Piccolo was not headed in the direction of the Waterfall, nor the Sons, which was very unusual.

Piccolo had not decided yet on where to go, he just needed to go. Without warning or thought he took off from the Lookout and into whatever direction he decided to turn. He was not an impulsive person by nature, he was not usually hasty or rash or without a plan in mind.

Today was different. He didn't know where to go or what to do, who to see or whether to see anyone at all. Gohan was one person he'd always found he could, under most circumstances, confide in. Not that he bore his soul or needed his friend's shoulder to cry on. Rather, he confided his time and effort into Gohan. The man was always willing to just be there, not always talk or train, but just sit and be around.

Piccolo didn't want Gohan's company. This was not the first time, but one of the few. Piccolo didn't want to seek out Gohan, to see him, remind himself of just how utterly alone he was. Gohan was the best thing to have happened to Piccolo, and along with him came the other members of the Son family. But as much as Gohan was a wonderful addition to Piccolo's life, he was a constant and unwavering reminder of what Piccolo would never have.

Piccolo soon realized he was taking himself into the desert, the place he'd trained himself and Gohan all those years ago. He landed in a valley surrounded by plateaus and cliffs, and for the better part of half an hour stood rooted in place, thinking.

It wasn't until he felt the power nearby, headed his way, that he realized he might of caught someone's attention flying over here unguarded. He was slightly amused when the person came into view, and thankful the man had given up bright orange for navy blue.

"Hey ya, Pic!" He yelled, feet touching the sand soundlessly. His wild hair caught the wind like an open umbrella, and his head swayed slightly.

"What're ya doin' way out here?" He asked casually.

"I used to live hear, you know." Piccolo answered, and was rewarded by the infamous Son grin.

"Yeah, I know. But you haven't been around here for while…have ya?" he asked, one hand on one hip comfortably.

"Maybe I have. What are you doing out here?" Piccolo asked, again his tone didn't reach its normal gruffness or agitated baritone. He sounded…resigned?

"Training." He said simply. "Been out here about a week. Goten stayed a few days with me, but then went back home 'cause a school and all." He leaned somewhat to the left, to try and see Piccolo's face a little.

The gesture didn't go unnoticed. Piccolo turned and fully faced his long time nemesis-tuned-ally-turned-friend. Piccolo noted Goku didn't look his normal giddy self. He just didn't seem as…bouncy, as usual.

"Alright." He answered, really unsure of what to say.

There was only a small silence as the two just stared ahead, toward the vast empty desert that lay before them. Goku grinned and backed up behind Piccolo, throwing his weighted shirt to the side. This caught Piccolo's attention and the Namekian turned around.

"Goten's a good sparing partner and all…" Goku started, his grin changing to a confident smirk. "But I need a challenge."

Piccolo mirrored the Saiyan's smirk with one of his own, bending down into a fighting stance after all but flinging his turban and cape to the side. Dust swirled around the two for the better part of a minute, both warriors trying to find a weakness in the stance of the other…both failing to find one.

In a flash of navy blue and royal indigo, the two were off. Any human looking on would not have seen their moves, only the tediously trained eye of a martial arts master could keep up with them. And so the battle began, neither Saiyan nor Namek willing to let up.

Piccolo's veins pulsed with adrenaline and energy…how he'd missed this. This little taste of competition and battle was what he needed; it seemed to be replenishing his fortitude with every passing second. He'd become sloppy, too sloppy for his own liking. No one else, doubtfully even Goku, would have noticed, but Piccolo did.

Piccolo ducked as Goku's fist came at his head, flipping gracefully in the air with the agility of a feline. He hammered his elbow into the ribs of his opponent, and the latter let out a huff of air as he did so. He fazed out and reappeared behind Piccolo, spinning around to kick the man in the torso, but Piccolo blocked with his forearm and used a ki ball to send the Saiyan spiraling backward for several seconds, until he caught his balance.

"Better step it up." Piccolo said. "You're losing."

Goku hadn't stopped smirking since the battle had begun, but then he smiled.

"You're right. I can't beat you like this." Goku said, and his smile faded as he summoned up reserves of strength and pushed his power to the surface.

In a flash of golden ki and with a scream that made the Namekian wince, Goku was a Super Saiyan. Still hovering hundreds of feet in the air, both men attacked full force with unrelenting strength.

To the untrained ear, it sounded like a thunderstorm tore apart the skies for the better part of four hours.

Piccolo leaned against a bolder, legs crossed and eyes closed. He wasn't meditating, but he could have fooled anyone. Goku was leaning against the bolder next to his, and wasn't doing or saying anything. Neither warrior felt the need to talk, for Goku wouldn't know what to say and Piccolo didn't care for conversation at all.

Eventually, though, Goku broke the silence.

"It's a girl, ya know." He said. "Gohan's baby. They went to the doctor and he said it's a girl."

Piccolo didn't open his eyes, only nodded, and made a faint grunting noise. Good for Gohan, his friend was surely happy about that.

"I can't wait to be a Grandpa." Goku said. "I don't really feel that old, though. When I think of Grandpas I think of mine, and he was really old."

"You're Saiyajin, of course you don't feel old." Piccolo retorted, opening his eyes as the heat from the sun began fading. "You're not old."

"I suppose." Was the only reply Goku gave; but in his voice was a very minuscule waver of, what sounded like, sadness.

Piccolo looked at the man, but didn't say anything. Goku picked up on the motion and shrugged.

"I dunno, Pic." He said. "I just get so bored sometimes."

Piccolo again didn't say anything, but just looked the Saiyan. Goku smiled slightly and turned his head to take a better look at his friend.

"I don't know if you'll understand, and I don't wanna sound crazy, but things are so much more exciting when there's … um… bad stuff happening." He gave a small chuckle and noted that Piccolo hadn't changed looks yet. But then, he wasn't as good as Gohan was at telling what Piccolo's looks meant.

"I mean that, when there's stuff happenin' like with Buu or Cell, I like being challenged. I don't want bad things to happen, I just want to…" He let out a breath and his smile lessened.

"Fight." Piccolo finished.

Goku looked at him and his smile reappeared in full force. "Yeah, you got it."

Piccolo nodded and looked again to the direction the sun was setting.

Goku sat for quite a while when he finally got up and dusted himself off. Piccolo didn't move; he remained seated and watched Goku ready himself to leave.

"I'm glad I run into you." Goku said, grinning again.

Piccolo scoffed and, to Goku's humor, nodded his head in agreement.

"Yeah, me too." He said coolly, nonchalant. Before Goku took off into the distance Piccolo summoned up what amount of will power he needed to speak to the man again.

"Goku." Piccolo started, standing up.

Goku turned and looked at Piccolo, who didn't use his given name all too often. Piccolo crossed his arms and frowned, making Goku look even more curious.

"You know where to find me if you want a decent sparing partner." He said. "And tell Gohan congratulations, from me."

Then Piccolo started walking off, obviously not returning to the Lookout tonight.

"I'll tell him." Goku said. "And Pic,"

Piccolo stopped and half turned.

"I'll take you up on that offer, bet on it." Then he powered up and took off, back in the direction he'd originally come from.

Piccolo didn't move for a great deal of time and when he finally did, it was to sit back down and begin meditating.

He served a purpose, just as Goku did and any other fighter. For now it was peaceful, but soon, sooner than anyone can predict, there will be the need for a warrior.

And that is why he remained on Earth, to protect when the time arose. He was a fighter. That was his purpose.

Fin