Disclaimer: All characters belong to Akira Toriyama.
Author's Note: I bought the History of Trunks video as an early Xmas gift for myself, and naturally, I got inspired. Here's the result, which I think is pretty unique, as far as the Trunks-Androids relationship goes. Keep in mind that this will not follow any of the known DBZ storylines. It is original and therefore almost completely different.
Summary:
… are thoughts.
The Taming of Trunks
Chapter 1: Beautiful Eyes
He'd never faced the Androids before, but Trunks knew what he was doing. In theory, anyway. Gohan hadn't been training him for very long, but he felt more confident with his master around. Probably the same way everyone else had felt around Goku, he realized with a tiny smile.
Nearby, Gohan kicked Android 17 in the jaw and dove in for another attack.
The smile quickly faded as Android 18 suddenly appeared, striking Gohan's face with her left palm. Trunks watched as his teacher and best friend slammed into the window of a restaurant that would never be open again, anyway. The glass rained down all around the Super Saiyan, but he rose unsteadily to his feet.
The Androids closed in quickly, moving with their usual lightning speed and fatal form. Like the twin agents of destruction they were, their blows were precise and merciless, hitting the pressure points that would bring the most possible pain.
Acting on pure instinct, Trunks charged forward, thinking only of his master's safety. He'd already lost a father he didn't know. He refused to lose a brother he did.
Seemingly effortlessly, 18 aimed a blast in his direction. She obviously didn't consider him much of a threat; the blast wasn't designed to hurt, only to force him back a few feet. Not to say that it didn't sting, because it did. Trunks willed himself to ignore the pain and regained his focus quickly. He followed 18 as best he could, silently thanking the spirits that she had left Gohan to 17. The odds were better that way.
Once 18 stopped moving around so much, Trunks finally got a good look at her. She was...beautiful, as far as girls went. Not that there were many left in the first place, thanks to the Androids. From what his mother had told him about Krillin, he knew it was easy to forget that she was a living weapon. Especially when she looked at you with those eyes of hers.
Don't get stupid, Trunks! That's how Krillin died, looking into those eyes. He was probably searching for mercy in them, but he didn't find any. …I wonder how Gohan manages to hit her?
"What are you staring at, kid?" 18 asked, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
C'mon, Trunks. Don't just look at her. Remember what she did to your friends...to your father.
That did it. In a split-second, Trunks was moving faster than he ever had before. It wasn't fast enough, but he was still trading blows with an Android. That was more than most could say.
18 blocked all of his punches, and each time he blocked one of hers, he could feel her fists leaving bruises that would give him endless suffering the next morning. And through it all, she was actually smiling at him. Mocking him, the same way she had mocked Vegeta right before she killed him. He wouldn't let it end this way.
Trunks took a particularly strong punch to the jaw, then retaliated with a knee to 18's gut. By the surprised look on her face, she hadn't expected him to react that fast. Now, though, she knew better, and soon flattened him with a well-timed punch.
"You're pretty fast for your age, little guy; I'll give you that. Too bad you'll never get to tell anyone that I actually gave you a compliment." 18 raised her hand to deliver the final blow.
"How?" Trunks gasped, struggling not to cry out in pain.
She raised an eyebrow. "How what?"
"How is it your eyes...can be so beautiful...and so cold at the same time?"
18 paused. This was new to her. Most fighters muttered prayers or useless threats before she killed them, not questions, and especially not insulting ones. At least, she thought it was an insult. She hauled him up by his shirt, pulling his face close to hers. "You've got guts, little guy," she said quietly. "For that, you can live until tomorrow."
Trunks blinked. "Huh? But why?"
He would remember her next words for the rest of his life. "Because once we kill Blondie over there, we'll need someone to play with." She smiled sweetly just before knocking him out cold.
* * * * *
"Trunks? Sweetie, please wake up!"
With a grunt, Trunks slowly opened his eyes. "Mom?" he asked quietly.
She smiled down at him and ran a gentle hand through his hair. "My brave little warrior."
Trunks frowned. "I wasn't good enough."
"Trunks, if it was that easy, do you honestly think Gohan would have that much trouble with them?"
His eyes widened. "Is he…?"
Bulma's face fell. "He's resting, but I don't know this time, honey. I just don't know."
Trunks was instantly out of bed, forgetting all about his pain. He ducked away from his mother's grip and flew down the hall to the guest room. He paused in the doorway, then ran over to the bed.
Gohan had burns all over his body. Most were covered by bandages, but it was obvious they had run out before Bulma could finish.
Trunks lowered his head, tears falling from his eyes. "Oh, Gohan. What'd those monsters do to you?"
Bulma ran in a second later and placed her hands on his shoulders. "I tried to warn you, dear. He passed out right after he brought you home."
"I should have done more. I should have fought harder!"
Bulma squeezed his shoulders. "I know you did your best, Trunks. That's all anyone could ever ask from you."
Then my best is just gonna have to get better, Mom. I won't let them hurt anyone else I care about.
* * * * *
3 Years Later
"17, this is boring. What's the point of blowing up empty buildings?"
He smiled at her. "We might get lucky and hit some humans trapped inside. You wouldn't want any of them to live, would you?"
18 rolled her eyes and sighed wistfully. "I'm starting to wish we hadn't killed Blondie three years ago. He was the best fun we'd had in a long time."
He narrowed his eyes. "Honestly, 18. You're starting to worry me. It actually sounds like you miss that guy."
"Well, I do. Killing humans is fun, but he was a challenge, and he lasted longer than anyone else we fought did. Besides, sooner or later, there won't be anymore humans. What will we do then?"
17 chuckled. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it. I've got a plan for when that happens."
18 was just about to ask what he meant when the ground exploded beneath her feet. She stumbled a bit, then fell under the force of a wide energy blast.
17 looked up in surprise. "What?! Who dares?!"
"I do," replied a voice behind him.
17 spun around, only to get a blast to the face at point-blank range. Temporarily blinded, he fell to one knee, blasting the area around him.
"What's the matter? I thought you Androids were invincible. Guess I was wrong."
18 appeared beside her brother, glaring at the newcomer. "I don't know who you think you are, but you're going to regret that."
He only smiled and drew his sword. "We'll see."
* * * * *
Things were going surprisingly well. Too well, really. Trunks hadn't used up much energy yet, and the Androids hadn't been expecting anyone to challenge them. Still, he had a feeling they weren't fighting at full potential. After all, their energy was endless, and most blasts did little or no damage to them. He was nowhere near Gohan's best power level yet, so they had no real reason to be afraid of him.
He was winning. For now, anyway. But it was still wrong. With a frown, he lowered his hands and stopped firing.
The dust gradually settled, and the Androids rose up, renewed fire in their eyes. Yet, they kept their distance.
"You're not even trying," Trunks said. "Why?"
17 smiled. "Because now when we kill you, you can't say we didn't give you a fair chance."
"So no whining when we blast you to pieces," 18 added, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "You want one big blast or lots of little ones? The first is faster and less painful."
Trunks powered up, staring at them from behind his golden flame aura. He wet his lips and dug his boots into the ground. "Lady's choice."
She smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that." She glanced back at 17, who made a grunting noise.
"Fine," he muttered. "Just be quick about it. I'm going home." With that, he floated into the air and flew away.
"Think you can finish me on your own?" Trunks asked.
She went into a battle stance, but retained her smile. "We'll see."
* * * * *
Android 18 was confused for perhaps the first time in her long life. They'd almost been fighting for twenty minutes now, and other than a few rips in both their clothes, no real damage had been done. Her blond opponent wasn't exactly in her league, but for some reason, she hadn't killed him yet. 17 would definitely say something when she got back.
No more fooling around. If I finish him now, maybe 17 will only tease me about this for a week. If I'm lucky.
18 growled and flew forward, knocking the sword from his hand. As it sailed into the air, she delivered hard punches to his face, only getting blocked a few times. Enough of them connected, because he stumbled back, either trying to regain his vision or clear his head. She wouldn't give him a chance to do either. A strong kick sent him slamming against the side of a building, where he slumped to the ground, blood leaking from a cut on his forehead.
Chuckling, 18 raised her hand and caught his sword. "Well, stranger. Bet you didn't think you'd die by your own sword, huh?" She walked over to him and drove her boot into his chest, grinding the heel into his gut.
He groaned weakly, then lost consciousness. His head dropped, and his blond hair fell and became a light violet color.
"Hmm. Just like Blondie. Guess this was his son or something." 18 grabbed a tuft of his hair and yanked his head up, so she'd have a clear shot at his neck. She raised the sword and prepared to end his life.
As fate would have it, he suddenly opened his eyes and stared up at her face.
18 froze. Those eyes…I know them…but from where?
Accessing her memory banks, she soon found the answer. "Little guy? I thought you were dead." She peered closely at him. "You were with Blondie the last time."
He coughed and tried to manage a glare. "You…killed my master…my best friend…"
"News flash, kid: We hate humans, so we kill them."
"Was…half-Saiyan, too. So am I."
18 smirked. "They're just like humans, only with worse hair. In most cases, anyway." For some reason, she let go of his hair. "In fact, if you weren't all bloody and bruised right now, you might actually be kinda cute."
"Not…my fault," he pointed out. "You did that."
"Well, I didn't force you to fight me."
"Yes, you did!" he shouted. "You killed everyone!"
"Not everyone," she reminded him, pushing the sword against his neck.
"Go ahead and do it," he muttered, closing his eyes.
"No."
He opened his eyes is surprise. "What?"
"You heard me." She dropped the sword in his lap. "I'll give you one minute to get out of here. If I can still see you by then, I'm coming after you."
He slowly stood up and sheathed the sword. "But why?"
"You said I had beautiful eyes once." She shrugged. "It's hard to get compliments these days."
"Try not killing everyone in sight," he suggested with a glare.
"You time's wasting, and I don't usually do this. So get lost."
"But you're supposed to be ruthless and unmerciful."
18 turned away from him. "I'm not totally heartless. Today."
He still wasn't convinced. "So you're gonna let me go because I said you had beautiful eyes three years ago?"
"Yes."
He tilted his head slightly. "What if I said you had a nice figure, too?"
"Then I might make it quick when I finally do kill you. And if you leave in the next twenty seconds, that won't be today."
He stared at her back for a moment, then flew into the air, heading west. Naturally, he glanced back a few times to see if she would follow him. She didn't. He probably went in the wrong direction on purpose, anyway.
18 turned and headed for home. I'll just tell 17 that he got away. He shouldn't be too disappointed.
* * * * *
"You're losing your touch, 18."
18 glared at him. "Are you saying you could do better?"
"I'm saying if it had been me, that boy would be dead by now." 17 turned away to study the computer console. "Anyway, we'll just find him tomorrow. Assuming you did at least leave him with some major injuries?"
18 lowered her head and muttered, "A concussion and some bruises."
17 barely kept the surprise out of his voice as he turned to look at her. "Well, I suppose even we can have bad days." Then, unable to resist teasing her, he added, "Of course, I've never had one…"
"Just drop it, 17." 18 angrily left the main lab, muttering to herself.
Why does he always have to be so childish? Couldn't Gero at least have given him some level of maturity?
It was better not to think about Dr. Gero. He was dead, and therefore unimportant. Or had it been the other way around? Not that it mattered now. What mattered was finishing up her project. 17 had given many hints that his was nearing completion, but he would've said that even if he was having as much trouble as she was. He was not one to admit his shortcomings. Neither was she.
18 stopped in front of a large door. She pressed her hand against it, and once the scanner had identified her, the door cycled open. As soon as she stepped into the old lab that had become her personal space, 18 felt the day's problems slip away. She always felt better here, since it was the one place in the complex that 17 couldn't enter without her permission. He had his own room in the west wing, but every other room was shared space.
A sudden, insistent beeping drew her attention to the intercom. With a sigh, she pressed the button. "What is it, 17?"
"Just wondering how your project was coming along."
"Then don't." She turned off the intercom and walked over to the containment unit, where her project stared blankly up at the ceiling. "Sometimes I really hate him."
The eyes blinked and turned to focus on her.
"At least your response time is getting better. It's your personality that's really giving me trouble."
The eyes shifted to the rip in her sleeve.
"Oh, that. We ran into the little guy today. He's grown up a bit, actually. You remember him?"
A small screen slid out of the unit, and a boy's face appeared on it.
"Yeah, that's him. Your memory's improved, too."
The hand reached up to press a large finger against her chin.
18 sighed and wrapped her hands around the finger. "You're my only friend, 16, and even you can't talk to me yet."
* * * * *
17 smiled and stepped back. "Well?"
The android examined its limbs carefully, looking for any irregularities. "Everything appears to be in order."
"Then is it safe to say that you'll be joining us on our next outing?"
"Yes, it would be my pleasure."
"Good." 17 tapped his chin thoughtfully for a moment. "Now we need to find you a name."
"No need. Dr. Gero gave me one long ago."
"Oh, did he?"
"Yes." The android smiled and flexed his arms. "Just call me Cell."
* * * * *
"I'm back, Mom."
Bulma turned around and smiled. "Trunks!" Her smile soon faded away. "You're hurt!"
"I'm fine." Trunks tossed his jacket and sword on the couch. "Where's the first aid kit?"
"Uh...in the cabinet," Bulma said, pointing.
Trunks found it and started applying alcohol to the cuts on his face.
Bulma watched him silence for a few moments. Finally, she could no longer hide her curiosity. "How'd it go with the Androids?"
"Better than I expected."
"So...you won?"
"Not exactly. I still need to get stronger, but now I have a plan."
Bulma frowned again. "Well, at least nothing's broken this time."
"Don't worry, Mom." Trunks grinned at her. "From now on, things are gonna be different."
Author's Note: I bought the History of Trunks video as an early Xmas gift for myself, and naturally, I got inspired. Here's the result, which I think is pretty unique, as far as the Trunks-Androids relationship goes. Keep in mind that this will not follow any of the known DBZ storylines. It is original and therefore almost completely different.
Summary:
… are thoughts.
The Taming of Trunks
Chapter 1: Beautiful Eyes
He'd never faced the Androids before, but Trunks knew what he was doing. In theory, anyway. Gohan hadn't been training him for very long, but he felt more confident with his master around. Probably the same way everyone else had felt around Goku, he realized with a tiny smile.
Nearby, Gohan kicked Android 17 in the jaw and dove in for another attack.
The smile quickly faded as Android 18 suddenly appeared, striking Gohan's face with her left palm. Trunks watched as his teacher and best friend slammed into the window of a restaurant that would never be open again, anyway. The glass rained down all around the Super Saiyan, but he rose unsteadily to his feet.
The Androids closed in quickly, moving with their usual lightning speed and fatal form. Like the twin agents of destruction they were, their blows were precise and merciless, hitting the pressure points that would bring the most possible pain.
Acting on pure instinct, Trunks charged forward, thinking only of his master's safety. He'd already lost a father he didn't know. He refused to lose a brother he did.
Seemingly effortlessly, 18 aimed a blast in his direction. She obviously didn't consider him much of a threat; the blast wasn't designed to hurt, only to force him back a few feet. Not to say that it didn't sting, because it did. Trunks willed himself to ignore the pain and regained his focus quickly. He followed 18 as best he could, silently thanking the spirits that she had left Gohan to 17. The odds were better that way.
Once 18 stopped moving around so much, Trunks finally got a good look at her. She was...beautiful, as far as girls went. Not that there were many left in the first place, thanks to the Androids. From what his mother had told him about Krillin, he knew it was easy to forget that she was a living weapon. Especially when she looked at you with those eyes of hers.
Don't get stupid, Trunks! That's how Krillin died, looking into those eyes. He was probably searching for mercy in them, but he didn't find any. …I wonder how Gohan manages to hit her?
"What are you staring at, kid?" 18 asked, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
C'mon, Trunks. Don't just look at her. Remember what she did to your friends...to your father.
That did it. In a split-second, Trunks was moving faster than he ever had before. It wasn't fast enough, but he was still trading blows with an Android. That was more than most could say.
18 blocked all of his punches, and each time he blocked one of hers, he could feel her fists leaving bruises that would give him endless suffering the next morning. And through it all, she was actually smiling at him. Mocking him, the same way she had mocked Vegeta right before she killed him. He wouldn't let it end this way.
Trunks took a particularly strong punch to the jaw, then retaliated with a knee to 18's gut. By the surprised look on her face, she hadn't expected him to react that fast. Now, though, she knew better, and soon flattened him with a well-timed punch.
"You're pretty fast for your age, little guy; I'll give you that. Too bad you'll never get to tell anyone that I actually gave you a compliment." 18 raised her hand to deliver the final blow.
"How?" Trunks gasped, struggling not to cry out in pain.
She raised an eyebrow. "How what?"
"How is it your eyes...can be so beautiful...and so cold at the same time?"
18 paused. This was new to her. Most fighters muttered prayers or useless threats before she killed them, not questions, and especially not insulting ones. At least, she thought it was an insult. She hauled him up by his shirt, pulling his face close to hers. "You've got guts, little guy," she said quietly. "For that, you can live until tomorrow."
Trunks blinked. "Huh? But why?"
He would remember her next words for the rest of his life. "Because once we kill Blondie over there, we'll need someone to play with." She smiled sweetly just before knocking him out cold.
* * * * *
"Trunks? Sweetie, please wake up!"
With a grunt, Trunks slowly opened his eyes. "Mom?" he asked quietly.
She smiled down at him and ran a gentle hand through his hair. "My brave little warrior."
Trunks frowned. "I wasn't good enough."
"Trunks, if it was that easy, do you honestly think Gohan would have that much trouble with them?"
His eyes widened. "Is he…?"
Bulma's face fell. "He's resting, but I don't know this time, honey. I just don't know."
Trunks was instantly out of bed, forgetting all about his pain. He ducked away from his mother's grip and flew down the hall to the guest room. He paused in the doorway, then ran over to the bed.
Gohan had burns all over his body. Most were covered by bandages, but it was obvious they had run out before Bulma could finish.
Trunks lowered his head, tears falling from his eyes. "Oh, Gohan. What'd those monsters do to you?"
Bulma ran in a second later and placed her hands on his shoulders. "I tried to warn you, dear. He passed out right after he brought you home."
"I should have done more. I should have fought harder!"
Bulma squeezed his shoulders. "I know you did your best, Trunks. That's all anyone could ever ask from you."
Then my best is just gonna have to get better, Mom. I won't let them hurt anyone else I care about.
* * * * *
3 Years Later
"17, this is boring. What's the point of blowing up empty buildings?"
He smiled at her. "We might get lucky and hit some humans trapped inside. You wouldn't want any of them to live, would you?"
18 rolled her eyes and sighed wistfully. "I'm starting to wish we hadn't killed Blondie three years ago. He was the best fun we'd had in a long time."
He narrowed his eyes. "Honestly, 18. You're starting to worry me. It actually sounds like you miss that guy."
"Well, I do. Killing humans is fun, but he was a challenge, and he lasted longer than anyone else we fought did. Besides, sooner or later, there won't be anymore humans. What will we do then?"
17 chuckled. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it. I've got a plan for when that happens."
18 was just about to ask what he meant when the ground exploded beneath her feet. She stumbled a bit, then fell under the force of a wide energy blast.
17 looked up in surprise. "What?! Who dares?!"
"I do," replied a voice behind him.
17 spun around, only to get a blast to the face at point-blank range. Temporarily blinded, he fell to one knee, blasting the area around him.
"What's the matter? I thought you Androids were invincible. Guess I was wrong."
18 appeared beside her brother, glaring at the newcomer. "I don't know who you think you are, but you're going to regret that."
He only smiled and drew his sword. "We'll see."
* * * * *
Things were going surprisingly well. Too well, really. Trunks hadn't used up much energy yet, and the Androids hadn't been expecting anyone to challenge them. Still, he had a feeling they weren't fighting at full potential. After all, their energy was endless, and most blasts did little or no damage to them. He was nowhere near Gohan's best power level yet, so they had no real reason to be afraid of him.
He was winning. For now, anyway. But it was still wrong. With a frown, he lowered his hands and stopped firing.
The dust gradually settled, and the Androids rose up, renewed fire in their eyes. Yet, they kept their distance.
"You're not even trying," Trunks said. "Why?"
17 smiled. "Because now when we kill you, you can't say we didn't give you a fair chance."
"So no whining when we blast you to pieces," 18 added, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "You want one big blast or lots of little ones? The first is faster and less painful."
Trunks powered up, staring at them from behind his golden flame aura. He wet his lips and dug his boots into the ground. "Lady's choice."
She smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that." She glanced back at 17, who made a grunting noise.
"Fine," he muttered. "Just be quick about it. I'm going home." With that, he floated into the air and flew away.
"Think you can finish me on your own?" Trunks asked.
She went into a battle stance, but retained her smile. "We'll see."
* * * * *
Android 18 was confused for perhaps the first time in her long life. They'd almost been fighting for twenty minutes now, and other than a few rips in both their clothes, no real damage had been done. Her blond opponent wasn't exactly in her league, but for some reason, she hadn't killed him yet. 17 would definitely say something when she got back.
No more fooling around. If I finish him now, maybe 17 will only tease me about this for a week. If I'm lucky.
18 growled and flew forward, knocking the sword from his hand. As it sailed into the air, she delivered hard punches to his face, only getting blocked a few times. Enough of them connected, because he stumbled back, either trying to regain his vision or clear his head. She wouldn't give him a chance to do either. A strong kick sent him slamming against the side of a building, where he slumped to the ground, blood leaking from a cut on his forehead.
Chuckling, 18 raised her hand and caught his sword. "Well, stranger. Bet you didn't think you'd die by your own sword, huh?" She walked over to him and drove her boot into his chest, grinding the heel into his gut.
He groaned weakly, then lost consciousness. His head dropped, and his blond hair fell and became a light violet color.
"Hmm. Just like Blondie. Guess this was his son or something." 18 grabbed a tuft of his hair and yanked his head up, so she'd have a clear shot at his neck. She raised the sword and prepared to end his life.
As fate would have it, he suddenly opened his eyes and stared up at her face.
18 froze. Those eyes…I know them…but from where?
Accessing her memory banks, she soon found the answer. "Little guy? I thought you were dead." She peered closely at him. "You were with Blondie the last time."
He coughed and tried to manage a glare. "You…killed my master…my best friend…"
"News flash, kid: We hate humans, so we kill them."
"Was…half-Saiyan, too. So am I."
18 smirked. "They're just like humans, only with worse hair. In most cases, anyway." For some reason, she let go of his hair. "In fact, if you weren't all bloody and bruised right now, you might actually be kinda cute."
"Not…my fault," he pointed out. "You did that."
"Well, I didn't force you to fight me."
"Yes, you did!" he shouted. "You killed everyone!"
"Not everyone," she reminded him, pushing the sword against his neck.
"Go ahead and do it," he muttered, closing his eyes.
"No."
He opened his eyes is surprise. "What?"
"You heard me." She dropped the sword in his lap. "I'll give you one minute to get out of here. If I can still see you by then, I'm coming after you."
He slowly stood up and sheathed the sword. "But why?"
"You said I had beautiful eyes once." She shrugged. "It's hard to get compliments these days."
"Try not killing everyone in sight," he suggested with a glare.
"You time's wasting, and I don't usually do this. So get lost."
"But you're supposed to be ruthless and unmerciful."
18 turned away from him. "I'm not totally heartless. Today."
He still wasn't convinced. "So you're gonna let me go because I said you had beautiful eyes three years ago?"
"Yes."
He tilted his head slightly. "What if I said you had a nice figure, too?"
"Then I might make it quick when I finally do kill you. And if you leave in the next twenty seconds, that won't be today."
He stared at her back for a moment, then flew into the air, heading west. Naturally, he glanced back a few times to see if she would follow him. She didn't. He probably went in the wrong direction on purpose, anyway.
18 turned and headed for home. I'll just tell 17 that he got away. He shouldn't be too disappointed.
* * * * *
"You're losing your touch, 18."
18 glared at him. "Are you saying you could do better?"
"I'm saying if it had been me, that boy would be dead by now." 17 turned away to study the computer console. "Anyway, we'll just find him tomorrow. Assuming you did at least leave him with some major injuries?"
18 lowered her head and muttered, "A concussion and some bruises."
17 barely kept the surprise out of his voice as he turned to look at her. "Well, I suppose even we can have bad days." Then, unable to resist teasing her, he added, "Of course, I've never had one…"
"Just drop it, 17." 18 angrily left the main lab, muttering to herself.
Why does he always have to be so childish? Couldn't Gero at least have given him some level of maturity?
It was better not to think about Dr. Gero. He was dead, and therefore unimportant. Or had it been the other way around? Not that it mattered now. What mattered was finishing up her project. 17 had given many hints that his was nearing completion, but he would've said that even if he was having as much trouble as she was. He was not one to admit his shortcomings. Neither was she.
18 stopped in front of a large door. She pressed her hand against it, and once the scanner had identified her, the door cycled open. As soon as she stepped into the old lab that had become her personal space, 18 felt the day's problems slip away. She always felt better here, since it was the one place in the complex that 17 couldn't enter without her permission. He had his own room in the west wing, but every other room was shared space.
A sudden, insistent beeping drew her attention to the intercom. With a sigh, she pressed the button. "What is it, 17?"
"Just wondering how your project was coming along."
"Then don't." She turned off the intercom and walked over to the containment unit, where her project stared blankly up at the ceiling. "Sometimes I really hate him."
The eyes blinked and turned to focus on her.
"At least your response time is getting better. It's your personality that's really giving me trouble."
The eyes shifted to the rip in her sleeve.
"Oh, that. We ran into the little guy today. He's grown up a bit, actually. You remember him?"
A small screen slid out of the unit, and a boy's face appeared on it.
"Yeah, that's him. Your memory's improved, too."
The hand reached up to press a large finger against her chin.
18 sighed and wrapped her hands around the finger. "You're my only friend, 16, and even you can't talk to me yet."
* * * * *
17 smiled and stepped back. "Well?"
The android examined its limbs carefully, looking for any irregularities. "Everything appears to be in order."
"Then is it safe to say that you'll be joining us on our next outing?"
"Yes, it would be my pleasure."
"Good." 17 tapped his chin thoughtfully for a moment. "Now we need to find you a name."
"No need. Dr. Gero gave me one long ago."
"Oh, did he?"
"Yes." The android smiled and flexed his arms. "Just call me Cell."
* * * * *
"I'm back, Mom."
Bulma turned around and smiled. "Trunks!" Her smile soon faded away. "You're hurt!"
"I'm fine." Trunks tossed his jacket and sword on the couch. "Where's the first aid kit?"
"Uh...in the cabinet," Bulma said, pointing.
Trunks found it and started applying alcohol to the cuts on his face.
Bulma watched him silence for a few moments. Finally, she could no longer hide her curiosity. "How'd it go with the Androids?"
"Better than I expected."
"So...you won?"
"Not exactly. I still need to get stronger, but now I have a plan."
Bulma frowned again. "Well, at least nothing's broken this time."
"Don't worry, Mom." Trunks grinned at her. "From now on, things are gonna be different."