Author's Note: I started writing this story some two or three years ago, not sure where it was intended. However, I only got to the first chapter and Ada came along and I pretty much stopped writing it. I have to admit I love this story; it's written rather different to most of my other stuff, and its central characters are very unusual. I would like to continue writing it, but it requires a lot of effort (usually wasted on Ada) so that may not happen. Anyway, this first chapter provides an unusual insight into some of DBZ's less explored characters, so I hope you enjoy it.

By the way, Ada is the most annoying non-existent person in known history. She is my muse, my baby, and my destruction. You don't want her!

Disclaimer: I own no part of the masterpiece anime/manga Dragonball Z. I also do not own the song The Days of Pearly Spencer. I do own Ada; don't bother trying to steal her, she's not worth much.

Porcelain Princess

'A tenement, a dirty street

Walked and worn by shoeless feet

Inside it's long and so complete

Watched by a shivering sun

Old eyes in a small child's face

Watching as the shadows race

Through walls and cracks and leave no trace

And daylight's brightness shuns…

…

…Nose pressed hard on frosted glass

Gazing as the swollen mass

On concrete fields where grows no grass

Stumbles blindly on

Iron trees smother the air

But withering they stand and stare

Through eyes that neither know nor care

Where the grass is gone…

…

…Pearly where's you milk white skin?

What's that stubble on you chin

It's buried in the rot-gut gin

You played and lost not won

You played a house that can't be beat

Now look your head's bowed in defeat

You walked too far along the street

Where only rats can run…

…

…A tenement, a dirty street

Remember worn and shoeless feet

Remember how you stood to beat

The way your life had gone

So Pearly don't you shed more tears

For those best forgotten years

Those tenements are memories

Of where you've risen from…'

-

The Days of Pearly Spencer

Marc Almond/David McWilliams

--------

Chapter One: Uninvited

There was an intruder at the wedding. Not that she was causing any trouble but she was still there. No one had noticed her yet. Their eyes were concentrated on the bride and groom, bizarre coupling that they were. She couldn't blame them if they tried to kick her out when they found she was there. She wasn't meant to be present, even if it was a public church. Such as life, it didn't matter anyway. She would just go home, exciting place that home was. The house would be empty, except for the housekeeper, till beyond dusk. No one was home much these days.

The priest was rambling, asking if anyone disputed the wedding. The well-wishing audience held their breath. No hands came up; no sobbing souls sprinted down the aisle bellowing their disagreement. The priest continued on, the audience breathing a silent sigh of relief. He pronounced the short man and his blonde bride husband and wife. The audience collectively smiled, except for one man, who had no facial expression whatsoever. A kiss was shared and then the couple started down the aisle, still not noticing the girl sitting in the back row. Chatter spread through the well-wishers, laughing, talking over one another. The girl smiled. She liked the chatter after the weddings. She often heard stories of times gone by, of other weddings held over the years. There was always a lot of exaggeration; at least that was what she assumed.

This chatter was different. There was an air of experience, of friendly laughter among survivors, if that made sense. The groom spoke animatedly with one of the woman, his bride standing silently by his side. She was different, this bride. Usually, as the girl had noticed, the brides' were the ones who spoke, but this woman was quiet, almost relieved. As with any bride, she was dressed from head to toe in white, but the colour seemed to purify her. She dusted a strand of blonde hair out of her eyes. Her eyes were different too. They were cornflower blue, cat shaped and perceptive. The girl could tell that – those eyes didn't miss a trick. She was caught in those eyes, long ago. The bride knew she was there. How many others did as well?

She doubted the children had noticed. There was children at the wedding too. Three of them, besides the girl. They were all boys. The eldest was about her age, perhaps a little older. He was handsome, a laughing face. But there was something else, wisdom not akin to her own. He was aged, aged by his eyes. The other boys were young, three and four at the oldest. They were together, mock fighting, dressed in miniature tuxedos. They were cute boys, one with silky lavender locks, the other, a head of uncontrollable black tresses. They had chosen to ignore their mothers because they had taken up wrestling loudly on the polished floors. The expressionless man from earlier, stepped forward, and tore them apart, tossing the purple head boy over his shoulder. He literally threw the black head child to what the girl assumed was his brother, the older boy. A laugh resounded through the group. The girl giggled softly.

The bride glanced across at her. The perceptive eyes had caught on. The bride watched her for a moment, her eyes flickering emotions unreadable. Then they softened. A soft smile, accentuated by pink lipstick, spread across the bride's still face. She looked away, responding to a call from the young boy. He moved over to her, speaking softly. A hand gloved in white silk gestured to something. The boy nodded. The girl froze. Trouble was coming.

The girl glanced down, snatching her bag into her hands. She stood up, slightly hunched to avoid being noticed further. She slipped out of her pew and through a side exit that brought her into the lobby of the church. To her left there was a stand of religious newspapers and a small staircase, leading to the second floor. To her right, a billboard promoted the latest church functions and get togethers. A list of weddings for the month beckoned. The girl moved over to them, glancing down the list to the current date. Two names, one obviously male, the other questionable, shined at her in black ink. Krillin and Eighteen. Strange names, was the thought that ran across the girl's mind. Very strange names.

The exit was beckoning now. She had to go. The boy would be following her, probably to tell her to leave. If she left then her presence would never become a disturbance. She moved through the doorway and skipped down the stairs. A hand settled upon her shoulder, a warm hand. She stopped and turned around. Obsidian eyes flashed at her. They were the same eyes from before, the aged eyes. Cheeky and happy but deeply swirled with lingering sadness – dormant pain. He was dressed in a tuxedo, like the younger children. It accentuated his built form; she could tell that much, this one was strong. His spiky black hair shimmered in the light. She squinted, making out the finer features of his face, cast in the sunlight that was shining around them. He let go of her shoulder, hand dropping limply to his side. His face lit up, a smile spreading across his features. His mouth opened, he was going to speak. She shut her eyes briefly, waiting for the backlash, for the scorned disapproval.

'Hi!'

'Hi' was the last thing that she expected him to say. Perhaps 'what are you doing here?' or 'Get out!' but not a greeting of such cheerfulness. Her eyes had skirted downwards the moment sound had exited his mouth but now she glanced up, straight into those strange, strange eyes. They were still shining, not a shimmer of callous, only simple naïve happiness. Poisoned by pain; subtle, shadowed pain. His mouth opened again.

An inviting voice, 'what ya doing here? Eighteen said she saw you in the back of the church.' The smile widened. 'She said to invite you in. Eighteen's pretty nice, considering all that's happened.'

Her eyes widened, rather shocked. Invited? Brow creased, the boy's brow was creased, waiting for a response. What could she say? Yes? No? Get away from me?

'Sure.'

The eyes lit up again, the obsidian eyes. He held out his hand.

'By the way, I'm Gohan.' She took the hand.

'Videl.'

'Nice to meet you Videl.' They shook hands. Gohan had a strong grip, unusually strong. Then again, so did she. Perhaps that build warranted more investigation. Gohan let go of her hand.

'Well, you gonna come in.' His face was expectant. She turned around fully, and took a step towards him. Gohan's face flickered from a relieved stillness to a reassuring smile.

'Don't worry, they won't bite.' The smile widened, baring two rows of neat, white teeth. Just what she needed to think about. 'Except perhaps Vegeta, but I doubt he'd bite anyone but Bulma.'

Videl stopped mid-step. 'As in Bulma Briefs, the daughter of the founder of Capsule Corp.?' she questioned softly, awe evident in her hushed voice. Did she really sound as pathetic as she thought? Gohan didn't seem to notice, opting to nod happily.

'Soon-to-be president,' he informed her. 'She takes over in a few months, not that she needs the extra pressure. Vegeta and Trunks are enough for anyone; but then again, Bulma has never been one to back down on a challenge. No wonder she and Vegeta ended up together.' He laughed softly to himself. An inside joke? They continued up the stairs and back into the lobby.

They stopped at the entrance to the church. Gohan turned to face her. The sadness, the age, in his eyes was back. What was it hiding?

'You're probably best not to mention the Cell Games around Eighteen. Or anyone.' The pain, the sorrow – was that guilt – swayed in the darkest of eyes. 'They tend to get a bit, well, hostile around those events.' Confusion clouded Videl's thoughts, vision flickering from the laughing group twenty metres ahead to the boy standing in front of her. Why did her father's victory make them hostile? She turned to ask Gohan, mouth poised to spit the question out, distasteful aggression in full force, but he was heading towards the group. A woman had beckoned this one a brunette, with wide black eyes reminiscent of Gohan's. His mother? Videl followed quickly, trotting up the aisle to catch up with her new companion.

Almost reaching Gohan's side, a hand stopped Videl. A hand gloved in white silk, the wrist decorated with a pearl bracelet. She glanced up. The blonde bride, Eighteen, was looking down at her. She looked up into the cornflower blue eyes, seeing something in them that hadn't been there before. There was an understanding about them, a common ground. Videl felt like those eyes accepted her. But as quickly as the emotion appeared in Eighteen's eyes, it disappeared. She nodded towards Gohan, hair shadowing her face. She dusted it aside.

'It's about time,' Eighteen murmured softy, and with a slight hand movement nudged Videl at Gohan, leaving the teenager to ponder the statement. She didn't have much time though, as the woman Videl assumed was Gohan's mother smothered her in a bear hug.

'Oh, it's so nice to meet you,' she squealed. Videl was quite sure the squeal concealed something else, though she couldn't be sure and certainly wasn't about to label her new circle of friends.

'I'm Chi Chi.; Gohan says Eighteen saw you in the back of the church. What were you doing all the way back there? You should have come up here earlier.' Chi Chi fired questions at Videl, faster than the teenager could respond. Unknowingly to Videl, Gohan blushed crimson, knowing exactly what his mother was doing.

'Ah, I sometimes come – to the church – I…when I'm bored,' Videl offered, rather flustered. She slipped gently out of the woman's grasp, slightly frightened by Chi Chi's enthusiasm and excitement. They had just met!

'Wonderful, wonderful,' Chi Chi murmured, smiling to herself. A hand latched onto Videl's shoulder and manoeuvred her away from the babbling woman, who had turned to talk to the blue haired lady. When she finally turned around, Videl saw those eyes again. Gohan's eyes. They weren't sad anymore. They were embarrassed.

'Sorry 'bout that,' he muttered softly, colour rising in his cheeks. 'Mum tends to get a bit excited sometimes. The whole wedding euphoria.' Videl nodded, not quite understanding. She had never met someone with such bizarre zeal. Her own home was filled with nothing but self-praise and false happiness. Never enthusiasm.

'Do you wanna come to the party?' Gohan asked suddenly, snapping Videl from her self-imposed reverie and causing her to jump ever so slightly. Gohan looked alarmed.

'You 'kay?' he asked quickly. Videl nodded. Gohan sighed softly, perhaps in relief.

'What did you say?' Videl asked, flustered. Gohan opened his mouth to speak but was cut off before he could get a word out.

'Do you want to come to the reception?' Videl swivelled around. A man stood in front of her. He was short, inches shorter than Videl. The groom – Krillin.

He continued on, unaffected by Videl's surprise. 'It's at Bulma's house, and well as Bulma always says, the more the merrier.' Gohan nodded eagerly behind her, she could hear his hair rustle.

Before Videl could think about an answer, let alone respond, a child appeared at her side. He was small, with Gohan's black eyes and hair. His round face was broken in a curious smile and he began to tug repeatedly at Videl's skirt. Videl glanced down at him. She was caught unaware by his cuteness.

'You pretty,' he said happily, sucking on his thumb. The lavender haired boy, who had obviously escaped his father's grasp and waddled over, followed him.

'What ya doin' Goten?' he asked, planting himself beside his friend. He glanced up at Videl, who was staring down at him with curiosity.

'Who you?' the boy asked, this time, the question obviously directed at Videl.

'I'm Videl,' she said, crutching down on the boys' level. Goten threw his arms around her as if she was his long lost sister. She stuttered pathetically. Gohan and the groom, Krillin, laughed.

'The little lady killer's already hooking the girls,' Krillin joked. The group that surrounded them laughed amongst each other. Videl blushed. She looked up. Instead of catching Gohan's eye, she touched sight with Eighteen. The woman's face was different to the others. She wasn't laughing, nor smiling. But her face was settled in a rather pleased expression, as if a personal scheme was going according to plan. The expression disappeared again as Eighteen glanced down at the top of her new husband's head.

'Krillin,' she murmured softly, perhaps as warning. Krillin laughed, assuming a position of slight embarrassment, one hand placed behind his head, his face in a shining smile.

'Oh, all in good fun, babe.' Eighteen rolled her eyes. Videl noticed the pink colour rise in Eighteen's cheeks despite her lightly applied blush. She was embarrassed, but about what Videl couldn't decide. The nickname? Or the attention of the others?

There wasn't much time to ponder, as a rather loud clapping noise resounded through the church. Videl followed the others' gaze to the blue haired woman. She had seemingly placed herself leader of the group.

'What about it, guys? Should we head over to Capsule Corp.?' She raised a delicate cerulean eyebrow. The others nodded, talking amongst themselves, as it seemed their nature.

Videl detached herself from Goten, who was still hugging her neck. She glanced quickly around the group, searching for Gohan. She met his eyes; he was still standing behind her, waiting. She watched as he bent down silently and allowed Goten to hop onto his back. Goten squealed with delight. The other child, the one with the mop of lavender hair, looked slightly dejected. He wandered over to his father.

'Dad, can I have a piggyback?' he asked, nonchalantly. His father narrowed an eyebrow.

'Do I look like a pig, Trunks?' he replied sternly. Trunks shook his head. Videl watched with faint interest as the youngster's shoulders slouched and he marched over to the blue haired woman. Videl assumed she was his mother. He tugged on her skirt to grab her attention. She glanced down at him.

'Mum, Dad won't give me a piggyback,' he informed her. His mother glanced up at what Videl assumed was her husband. The pair seemed to possess an undeniable connection, not through their son, but rather the way they seemed to counteract one another's decisions.

'Vegeta,' she muttered reproachfully. Vegeta raised an eyebrow at her, as if welcoming challenge. His wife responded with an eyebrow manoeuvre of her own – one that clearly issued a threat as Vegeta scowled dejectedly. The blue haired woman glanced back down at her son, a warm smile on her face. The boy grinned and dashed towards his father, who lifted him onto his shoulders.

'They always do that,' a voice whispered in Videl's ear. She spun around, nearly smashing into Gohan, who was standing so close to her she should have been able to feel his breath on her neck. Goten was sitting on his shoulders, revelling in the opportunity to use his brother's spiky hair as reins. Videl's heart raced unnaturally fast, taken by surprise at Gohan's proximity and his sudden interruption of her thoughts.

'Who do what?' she asked quickly, in case she had been watching something she wasn't meant to see. Gohan's face smiled, eyes twinkling.

'Bulma and Vegeta,' he elaborated, nodding towards the little family. Videl glanced back towards the group, and more specifically, at the blue haired woman. So, she was Bulma Briefs. 'They spend more time contradicting one another, rather agreeing. I suppose it's just their nature.'

Videl nodded mutely, watching the small family interact. Trunks was sitting eloquently atop Vegeta's shoulders whilst Bulma's face was settled in a little self-satisfied smirk. Videl couldn't help smiling herself. It reminded her of her own family.

The group began to make their way out of the church, winding slowly, as they stopped to exchange random hellos and excited whispers. Videl found herself shuffled between the gang, introduced to the various individuals. She found Chi Chi's father, Ox-King, a delightful character; the pig Oolong was sleazy; the elderly Master Roshi was an abomination. Vegeta remained expressionless. Eighteen shared special smiles with Videl that made the teenager feel as if she was unaware of something. It was all very bizarre.

Gohan led Videl out of the church ahead of the others, so they came to rest on the sunny bitumen, waiting. Goten was leaning on Gohan's head, watching Videl with such an intent gaze it made her feel like squirming. Gohan didn't seem to notice.

'So what were you really doin' at a church at three o'clock on a Saturday afternoon?' he asked, bouncing a little. Goten squealed with delight.

'As I said before, I was bored,' Videl told him. Gohan raised a sceptical eyebrow. Videl felt like she being interrogated. Goten was still staring.

'Hmm,' he said simply, glancing back at the church. Videl stood very still, bag hanging limply over her shoulder. She felt stupid now, Gohan clearly didn't believe her, but then what could she say? It wasn't a lie; perhaps half the truth…

Finally, after the eternity of uncomfortable silence, the other guests wandered out of the church. The priest was talking cheerfully to Bulma. Videl watched with a slight interest as Bulma glanced at her husband every now and then, out of the corner of her eye. A little, happy smile had settled on her face.

Krillin and Eighteen were holding hands. The bride had finally joined the conversation and what she spoke of – to an over zealous Chi Chi, no less – surprised Videl the most.

Children!

Videl didn't hear all the conversation but she caught smithereens as everyone made their way to air cars and jets. Losing the conversation, she ended up piling into a jet with Gohan, his family and the Briefs. She was squashed between Trunks and Goten. They prattled over the top of her. Videl's attention was drawn to Bulma. She was sitting in the cockpit, Vegeta by her side, flying the contraption they were travelling in. She didn't seem to need full eye contact to do this, because she turned around to glance at Videl.

'So, what school do you go to Videl?' She glanced across at Chi Chi. 'Haven't you been lookin' for a school to send Gohan, Chi?' Chi Chi nodded, full attention on Videl. Gohan turned to look at her. Goten and Trunks on either side watched her intently. Videl suddenly realised she was the centre of everyone's gaze; even Vegeta was staring at her. They were all holding their breaths – or it seemed that way.

'Orange Star High,' she whispered.

'Is it a good school/Do you like it/How many students go there?'

'Is there a gifted and talented program, like there used to be?' That was Bulma. Videl glanced at her.

'Yeah, there still is. How'd you know?' Videl asked.

'Used to go there, myself.' There was a surprised, choking sound from Chi Chi.

'You mean I've been looking all over the country, and you knew there was perfectly decent school in Satan City. Shame on you Bulma.' Bulma laughed.

'Gohan's a smart kid, Chi. He needs somewhere that extends him. That's what we've been lookin' for, 'member.' Videl glanced over at Gohan, who was sitting two seats down from her. He was blushing. Maybe he disliked being the centre of attention as much as she did.

Chi Chi made a strange sound, something that was a cross between a squeal and a sigh. Then she leant over Trunks and threw her arms around Videl.

'Oh, thank you so much, dear. Now we have somewhere for Gohan to go, and he'll know someone there. Oh this is so wonderful.' Videl caught herself wondering whether someone could die of euphoria. Chi Chi seemed to have been infected by a fair dose of it. Finally, she loosened her grip on the teenager's neck, enough to peek at Gohan.

'If that's alright with you, Gohan,' she asked.

Gohan smiled. 'Sounds great, Mum.' He smiled knowingly in Videl's direction. Reassurance, she guessed; he didn't mind what was happening, didn't hold against her the sudden arrangements. Or perhaps he understood his mother's uncanny euphoria.

Or maybe he just liked smiling.

Videl had never been anywhere near the colossal Capsule Corporation home base. She had travelled past the general office building time and time again, often on the way to school. However, in comparison, the office building was an insect bite on an elephant's backside – Capsule Corp. was huge.

The jet Videl, Gohan and the others were riding in landed in the front lawn – seven more jets could have easily fitted in the same space. As she slipped out of the jet, behind Goten and in front of Trunks, Videl couldn't help it anymore; she gasped, hand across her mouth, as she was cast in the afternoon shadows of the massive building. Gohan turned around – he was at the front, leading his brother by the hand – and gazed obtusely at her.

'What's the matter,' he asked, glancing from Videl, to the daffodil coloured building ahead. He shrugged.

'It's huge,' Videl muttered. Gohan grinned. He let go of his brother's hand and slipped over to her. So struck in her stupor, Videl didn't realise he was there until his hand slipped into her's.

'What's the hold up?' That was Vegeta, from the back of the jet, drumming his fingers against the interior, like an impatient child. The sudden interruption from Vegeta and Gohan's warm hand resting on her palm, startled Videl so, that she spun around, crashed into Gohan, stood on Trunks' foot and blushed a vivid crimson. Bulma laughed. Gohan was knocked to the ground. Trunks grabbed his foot, moaning and hopping around like a kangaroo with Athlete's foot.

'Sorry,' Videl whispered, pressing a hand to her mouth in case something else stupid happened that was her fault. Why, oh why, was she acting like such a klutz? Bulma was still laughing; Vegeta had grabbed her shoulders to stop her causing further catastrophe of the event. Videl really wished she would stop; it was making it all the more humiliating.

The air cars had begun to arrive and guests were starting to congregate on the amusing sight that was Videl's humiliation. Eighteen was standing with raised eyebrows, arms crossed over her white dress, watching the scene that was unfolding. Master Roshi was stalking, predatorily, upon her, smirking deviously. Videl had seen that smile on another man's face before.

'Eighteen,' she called. The woman raised an eyebrow in Videl's direction. Videl jutted a finger at the area behind the blonde. The bride swung around, and in one fluid move, took hold of the hands that were extending out towards her. Master Roshi squealed in pain.

'Please, please, please let go,' he wailed. Eighteen growled, raised a slender leg and slammed one ivory stiletto into the pervert's stomach. Roshi literally flew backwards, slamming into the daffodil walls of Capsule Corp. Videl felt like clapping.

'God damn it, don't you ever learn?' the frustrated bride snarled. Roshi whimpered pathetically. Bulma stopped laughing.

'Well, I know what you mean on that one,' the heiress commented, slipping out of her husband's grasp and sidestepping the catastrophe at her feet. She sauntered through the group, eyeballing Master Roshi as she passed. Eighteen and Krillin followed, then Vegeta, Chi Chi and the remaining adult guests. Gohan stood up, dusted himself off and grabbed his brother in one hand, Trunks in the other. He too began to stroll towards the daffodil building, but turned halfway there.

'You comin', Videl?' he asked, watching her with those flashing obsidian eyes.

Videl shrugged. Might as well.

On the inside, Capsule Corp. looked even bigger. The living room walls were painted white, expanding the room with sheer light. Everything had been decorated prior, white and pink to be exact. Vegeta recoiled at the colours, slipping away from the group the moment everyone was safely locked in. Bulma brought him back again, forcing him to sit at one of the long tables.

Eighteen and Krillin had seats at the centre of the head table. Krillin was laughing, right at home in the limelight. Eighteen looked embarrassed. However, that didn't stop Chi Chi from marching over to the bride and conversing with her about something that sent the brunette into peals of laughter every few moments. Eighteen's lips upturned several times during the conversation and at one stage, Videl thought she laughed but, then again, she couldn't be sure.

The entrée was tomato soup, the main Beef Rigatoni and Vienna Torte was for dessert. The adults drank sparkling wine; Videl found herself and Gohan served with lemonade.

Despite being the uninvited guest she was, there was enough food to feed Videl and perhaps a hundred stragglers who chanced upon the makeshift reception hall. And to be perfectly blunt, Gohan, and as she noticed, Vegeta, Goten and Trunks, ate a lot.

A lot of chattering took place, amongst the groups. There was definite glue between certain peoples. Master Roshi and Oolong, who were nicknamed the 'Pervert' group, stuck together followed, oddly enough, by a turtle, appropriately named Turtle. Yamcha, whom Videl was introduced to, flittered between the 'Pervert' group and Bulma. Videl caught the two chatting innocently, but she noticed that their conversation dissipated after some time, most probably due to Vegeta's wary glare.

Chi Chi spoke to anyone and everyone (except the perverts), enjoying practically any conversational topic that came into play. She spoke excessively of Gohan's remarkable intelligence and his study habits. And, as Videl wandered past for another glass of lemonade, she noticed Chi Chi again continue her conversation with Eighteen – the one involving children.

Videl strolled past the bridal table as slowly as she possibly could without exactly stopping to listen. It wasn't really eavesdropping, she decided, as long as she only happened to be walking past. Of course, it didn't work because Eighteen caught sight of her, and beckoned her over with a jerk of her pale head.

Chi Chi leaned down slightly, allowing her to look the teenager in the eye. 'So are you enjoying yourself, Videl?'

'I am thank you.' Videl smiled the smile that she had mastered especially for intrusive adults. It was the kind of smile that satisfied practically any question, and Videl had become so good at it, she could produce it on demand, no matter how bored or tired she was.

'That's nice,' Chi Chi told her, patting her shoulder lightly. Eighteen smiled silently. She leant back in her chair and seemed to study the brunettes in front of her before repeating the question Videl had been dreading.

'What does a teenager do at a church on a Saturday afternoon?' she asked, nonchalantly. She gazed from Chi Chi, who was watching Videl intently, to Videl, who didn't quite meet her gaze.

'Oh, you know,' Videl laughed helplessly. 'The usual. Watch weddings and – stuff…' she trailed off lamely and decide the décor of the opposite mantelpiece made for intricate observation (There's a picture of Gohan, she thought absently.). And while Eighteen and Chi Chi fought for her gaze, she dusted and straightened her black slacks. Finally, when she recovered the courage, she raised her own azure eyes to find the most interesting gaze rested upon her. The cornflower blue eyes that had studied her so intently earlier in the day, were now smiling. The grin had not manifested itself into an upturn in the pale pink lips, but the sun was shining through those orbs like it so often did in the glittering sky. As Videl had so surmised previously, the mind behind those eyes had figured her out long ago.

Dinner passed without further incident, besides the petrified glaze that had slid over Gohan's eyes. He had been asked to make a speech to the newlyweds and was hit with the overwhelming reality just as the Vienna Torte was served. His hands shook while he ate; he dropped his fork three times.

Ten minutes prior to his big moment, he thrust a damp piece of paper in Videl's hands. It was scarred with smudged blue ink. Gohan's sweaty hands had rubbed several words together, making it awkward to read, but she tried anyway. From the way Gohan was mumbling to himself, she gathered he already knew the speech off by heart.

She read the paper three times, attempting to make sense of the colliding sentences. The teenager grasped the general concept on the last go, deciding the sentiment was sweet. She was a little lost though; some of his statements only allowed vague comprehension in her mind, but she guessed it was something of inside understanding.

Master Roshi stood up at six thirty on the dot. He cleared his throat, ran a hand through his beard and adjusted his seemingly perpetual sunglasses. The aged man waved a steady gaze across the room, lingering on the bride and groom. He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket, unfolded it and glanced it over. Then, he re-folded it and pocketed it once more.

'Good evening, friends, students,' a mischievous smile tweaked the edge of his lips, 'and lovely ladies.' Bulma chuckled quietly, shaking her head. 'Today I have watched another one of my students move on from their time with me. Hopefully this one will visit me a little more often than his friend ever did.' Master Roshi gazed at his student with an air of content; Krillin beamed.

'I do not offer compliments like wild flowers, nor do I seek students like pretty ladies.' There was a laugh throughout the group. 'But, as is the legacy of these speeches, I feel compelled to offer at least a few of the former. I have been to several weddings in my time, even a few in the recent years that I've actually wanted to attend. And at each wedding, there is always an interest in how the couple ended up together, whether they'll stay together or the not so uncommon, "why the hell are they even in the same room", one of which I was blessed in attending two years ago.' The aging Master grinned. Several people burst out laughing, Bulma clearly the most humoured of the lot. Vegeta scowled rather grimly. Videl was ashamed to admit she was slightly lost.

'However, I am pleased to say that, not only, was I wrong about that marriage, but I'm not at all in that frame of mind today. In fact, I'm delighted to be even standing here.'

'Krillin came to me as a thirteen year old looking for a girlfriend. Several years' back, he finally got his wish, and we all know what a disaster that was. Thankfully, a girl with her head properly screwed on,' he gave a shrewd wink, 'sidled up to our Krillin, gave him a peck on the cheek and sent him head over heels. And if it wasn't for that, we'd probably all be stuck at another one of those, "what the hell are they doing together" weddings.' He grinned briefly, but his face quickly settled into a more serious expression, his tone slipping from amusement to a sincere musing.

'I often feel myself to be the mentor to this odd group we have become, and I therefore find it my responsibility to offer advice when I feel it is due. There are forces in this universe that strive to tear our fragile, hard-worked-for peace, but there are also forces that endeavour to strength it even when fellows are stolen from our midst. More than anything it our duty to hold tight to this strength, and we would not be doing that if we were not here, in body or spirit, today.' The Master's face settled into a solemn smile, and even beneath his dark sunglasses, his eyes shimmered. 'Thank you.' He sat down and for moment, there was silence. Three seats down, Bulma placed a hand in her husband's lap. Just barely, Videl watched him knot their hands together. Krillin turned to his new bride and smiled with genuine pride, the slightest upturn in Eighteen's lips evident.

Videl turned to Gohan, head cocked to the right, deducing his judgment. He smiled at her vaguely, but the fear was still there, flashing in his eyes like dancing fairy lights. He glanced back at his empty plate, pushed his chair back and spread the smudged speech on the table in front of him. After swallowing, he stood up, refusing to meet his audience's gaze, instead squinting at the paper on the table. Unable to read it properly, he reached down and lifted it into his hands slowing, like it weighed a hundred pounds. He swallowed again, and finally raised his eyes to meet the crowd. Videl gazed up at him, and found herself beaming, an odd pool of pride bubbling inside the depths of her stomach.

He cleared his throat. 'When I was asked to give this speech, I at first believed myself to be a substitute for my father, who cannot be with us today.' He glanced briefly at his brother and mother. 'And as I sat down and tried ever so hard to think of something that could be of any relevance, I found myself faced with a lot of memories of times with Krillin, and in the more recent years, Eighteen.' He looked up from his paper to stare at the blonde bride. Videl followed his gaze. The young woman watched him intently, pale features blissfully happy. Gohan seemed to take this as the go ahead and continued.

'I have known Krillin since I was five years old, and on that day, I did not realise what a significance he would have in my life.' He smiled. 'Krillin is one of the most valiant fighters on this planet.' Vegeta snorted none too politely. Gohan stopped momentarily. Out of the corner of her eye, Videl watched Bulma whip around to look at him, the anger almost radiating off of her. Once he was sure it was safe to continue, Gohan found his voice once again.

'He is an excellent judge of character and a genuine friend.' The teenager paused suddenly, allowing the scripted speech to flutter to the table. He clasped empty hands behind his back and glanced upon his audience, with a little more confidence. 'I have not known Eighteen as long as I have known Krillin, but if there is one thing I have learned, it is that Krillin rarely judges someone wrong,' he glanced from Krillin to Vegeta, and the groom chuckled, knowingly, 'and I therefore believe that today I stand in front of two people who compliment each other in the most complete way.'

'Krillin once asked me why he had become a fighter and I believe that days like today are the reason why. Not because we will have to go save the world again, any moment now, but because fighting is the reason we are here, and the reason many of us are here, together.' He raised his goblet of bubbling lemonade, and the adults laughed, but mimicked his action.

'To Krillin and Eighteen.'

The sentiment chorused through the large room and then as the party drank, there was only silence.

Three and a half hours later, Krillin and Eighteen rose to leave for a hotel in Satan City. They flew out in the morning for their honeymoon, but where they were headed, Videl did not know. She pondered this as she sat next to Gohan on the front steps of Capsule Corp. Her new companion was rather occupied – devouring his fifth piece of wedding cake. The darkness settled around them; the stillness of the late night air returned now that the rumbling of Krillin and Eighteen's air limo had faded. Videl watched the dust settle softly against the drive, wondering what destination would be of choice for a couple marrying this time of year, mid-summer. Maybe the Americas or the Oceania region. Perhaps Paris and London were nice this time of year.

'Gohan,' she said softly, vying to snatch the teenager's attention away from his dessert.

'Hmmm.' He glanced up from his plate, interested gaze plastered on his face in the semi darkness.

'Where are Eighteen and Krillin going for their honeymoon?' she asked, her curiosity clear despite her best efforts to appear nonchalant.

He shrugged. 'Wherever the wind takes them, I guess.'

'You mean they have no actual trip planned?' She found this rather unbelievable. What if they couldn't get a flight, or decided they wanted to go to the Bahamas and couldn't afford it?

Gohan sighed vaguely, as if tiring in the brief effort to explain. He didn't look at her, gazing off into the looming darkness. 'When you've lived the kind of life we have, sometimes it's nice to be a little free-spirited and just drift along without having to worry.'

She didn't quite understand what he meant and she wanted him to know, but the screen door swiped and the blue haired heiress of Capsule Corporation crouched behind them. She spoke in a loud whisper, echoing off the boundary fence.

'It's nearly ten o'clock, Videl. Would you like me to take you home?'

The time had not crossed her mind, and now being informed of it, Videl glanced at her watch. It was, in fact, quarter to ten, and she realised, feeling somewhat guilty, that she had not checked her mobile phone at all during the evening. The housekeeper, or perhaps even her father, was probably looking for her. She had been rather careless.

'It's okay, I'll walk.' She rose to gather her things, meeting eyes, cobalt in the darkness, on her way up. They clearly expressed a deep discontentment with such plans.

'Oh, no way will I let you walk home at this hour, not alone anyway.' She turned to Gohan, who was looking up at her from his seat on the bottom step. She nodded to him slightly, almost in acknowledgement.

'You don't mind walking Videl home, do you, Gohan?' Gohan nodded his head and moved to stand. Videl glanced oddly at Bulma, unsure how two teenagers would be better than one if they were to be attacked. Besides, Videl had never gotten into a situation before that she couldn't handle and though Gohan looked strong, she wasn't entirely sure. And, Gohan would have to walk alone on the way back. Wasn't that just as dangerous?

Her questions remained unanswered as Videl gathered her bag and coat, and Gohan took his empty plate to be cleaned. She nodded goodbye to the remaining wedding guests, hugged Chi Chi upon zealous insistence, and avoided Master Roshi's roving hands. As Gohan held the door open, she waved to her new found friends, and tears formed behind her eyes. A strange sensation in her stomach swirled and somersaulted as Chi Chi promised they would see each other soon. She exited through the door and found herself alone in the darkness with Gohan, once again. Breathing in, she shut her eyes momentarily, preparing herself for reality once more, whilst a furore of emotions played havoc with her soul.

They walked in silence for quite some time, out through the gates of Capsule Corp. and along the cobblestone sidewalk, stones skipping into the distance when either chose to kick them. For a moment in time, they could have been anyone, but here they were, each other. Videl thought idly on the irony of fate, though she wasn't quite sure why such a thought had struck her.

Gohan seemed to know where he was going without any assistance or direction, which struck Videl, not as odd, as one would expect, but as reassuring. She liked not having to think. To be led, rather than to lead, like she so often felt she had to. She felt like a child again, even if it was brief and maybe false.

A thought struck through the evening fog about then, and Videl realised quite suddenly, that she had not asked once throughout the entire day as to the exact whereabouts of Gohan's father. Of course, as she thought back to Gohan's speech, he had mentioned that his father was unable to attend the wedding, and, now that she reflected on it, no one at the reception had queried this. Furthermore, he had mentioned a relationship between said father and Krillin, which led Videl to believe that the others not only knew Gohan's father, he was indeed a friend.

She glanced at Gohan. He was staring straight ahead into the darkness, a little smile settled on his face, his hands snug deep in his pockets. He didn't look cold, though it was rather cool out and he was only dressed in a cotton shirt and slacks. A white cotton shirt, Videl noticed innocently; the first three buttons undone so it buffeted his skin in the breeze. When the glow of the streetlamps hit his skin at the right moment, Videl realised that her prior inferences in regards to Gohan's build were quite correct. Colour rose in her cheeks and she looked away.

'Gohan,' she said quietly as they walked, 'why couldn't your Dad come to the wedding?' She bit her lip hesitantly, praying she hadn't pushed her luck.

Gohan didn't answer at first, and the air was so uncomfortable all of a sudden, Videl cursed her lack of tact. If she had only kept her questions to herself, she could've avoided such an awkward silence.

'My Dad's dead.'

He said it so bluntly, so matter-of-fact, that she stopped walking.

'Pardon?'

Gohan stopped and turned around. Videl looked at him, and then, at her surroundings and realised they were standing outside the gates of her house.

'You're home.'

She knew she was home, but he hadn't answered her question yet. Dead? It didn't seem possible that Gohan's father could be dead, and yet at the same time, it did. Was that why he had such a tortured shadow in his eyes? But how? Was that why he had mentioned the Cell Games? But he had referred to Eighteen – what had happened that had affected everyone?

'It's half past ten, you're Dad's probably wondering where you are.' Gohan was looking at his watch.

Clearly, he wasn't interested in offering anymore answers tonight, despite her desperation for a reply. She sighed and glanced up at the mansion that was her house. It didn't seem so big, now that she'd seen Capsule Corp. close up. One light flickered on in the west wing.

It still looked lonely.

'Will you be okay walking home by yourself?' she asked, resigned to her lack of knowledge, at least for the moment.

He nodded in response to her question, and waited patiently. The ball was in her court, but she couldn't decide what she was to do. A bubble of nerves rose in her stomach, now frightened that he might take anything she did the wrong way. All she wanted was to see him again.

'Um, school, obviously doesn't start for a few more weeks, and Dad's going on an international tour next Monday, so if you want, well, your welcome to come over some time, if you want?' She bit her lip.

'I'll have to see with Mum.' Shut down.

'Right…Well, I better go.' She took a deep breath and strode past him, unlocking the high metal gates and pushing them open. She glanced over her shoulder one last time. He stood watching her.

'Bye,'

'Bye.'

She walked through the gate, shutting it firmly on the other side, and then up the front path and through the door, without looking back.

--------

Ratty: So my little friends, what did you think?

Ada: Are you talking to me? Because I'm not talking to you. You insulted me in the author's note.

Ratty: Oh! I didn't realise you read author's note.

Ada: I don't need to read them. I live in your head. I know what you're gonna write before you write it.

Ratty: Well, life must be tough for you.

Ada: I know all the alternatives you've made up for my life, and I don't like them either.

Ratty: You don't like much, do you?

Ada: We are not discussing what I like, because I'm not talking to you! (disappears in a huff)

Ratty: She has such a terrible temper. Oh, well, hope you enjoyth the storyth! Please press the review button below. It would be much appreciated. Toodles!