Disclaimer: Dragonball Z/GT and all its likeness does not belong to me. No profits are being made off this story.
Only Stop When I Say When
Chapter 2
"Report cards are coming up soon and I want to be proud of you when I get yours, Pan."
Gohan merely listened with one ear as Videl chastised the young quarter-Saiyan over breakfast.
"Mom," Pan gritted out. "You should be proud of me no matter what. Grandpa would have been!"
The comment made Gohan, and to his left – Goten, chew slower.
The stylish yet jobless Son male dropped his fork to his plate with an annoyed expression. Before he could say anything, Gohan cleared his throat.
"I've spoken with her teachers, Videl." Gohan smiled benignly. "When I get a chance, anyway. And there've been no complaints."
He tried flashing his daughter an encouraging grin, showing her he'd come to her rescue.
She didn't seem convinced. In fact, Pan's face had turned red and her nose was scrunched up in a really frustrated way.
"Complaints aren't really the issue." Videl said from behind her file folder. "That just means Pan doesn't stand out in her academics."
Pan slammed her hands on the table, and Gohan noticed she still wore her tomboyish fingerless gloves. "Mom. I'm not Dad."
There was an uncomfortable silence.
Videl sighed and stuck her documents under her arm before walking away.
Goten made a sound that was kind of like a cross between a scoff and a snort of laughter. He smirked from behind his hand. "No one here is like their father."
Gohan couldn't help thinking that he wished it was true.
"Alright," He collected their cutlery and plates to place in the sink. "Finish up, Pan. We'll leave early and try hunting down your teachers for some nice comments to tell your mother."
Pan glowered at him and folded her arms over her chest.
"It'll be like searching for the dragonballs!" Gohan tried again, and this time Goten really did snort loudly to his left.
"Sure." Pan replied with perfectly surly attitude. "And my wish would be for you guys to just leave me alone!" She jumped up from the table and ran out the door.
Gohan sighed.
The new English teacher of Orange Star wandered down the overfull halls of the school with a pinched expression. To the students who noticed him, he looked like he was having one of those days. And seeing as how Gohan had to bite his tongue every time he wanted to reprimand Pan at home, he was worried how much more frustrated he could become dealing with her at school.
Until now, they'd stayed relatively distanced at the academic institution. Orange Star was the biggest public school in West City, and most residents of the metropolitan had attended it at one point or another. The halls were always full to the brim with a diverse student body, which made it easy to go through a whole day, a week, even months without having to interact with someone worth avoiding.
His rambunctious daughter had obviously taken great advantage of that fact.
Gohan adjusted his book bag's strap on his shoulder, turning down the hallway that was made up of a few classrooms and eventually led to his personal office in the language department.
His contract was for the school year, and it looked a lot like he wouldn't be renewing it at this rate. Not only did it stress his relationship with Pan, but being a teacher amongst all these kids was starting to play with his mind. He was certain of that now.
The women in Son Gohan's life had really run him down. His mother resented him, his daughter resented him, and Gohan was pretty sure that his own wife would resent him too, if she found out about what had been going on inside his head lately.
He tried not to think about it too much, but the fact that he still had Bra Brief's phone number copied down in his daily planner weighed heavily on his mind. Not that he'd ever called her. Since that day she'd stood there in front of him, exuding an aura of…
Gohan's hand flew to his face and he tinkered with his oversized glasses in a nervous fashion. On some level he could attribute his little indiscretion as being a chance to prove himself wrong.
Teenagers employed intimidation techniques on their professors all the time. It wasn't new. This was a slightly different technique than he was used to but teenagers were all the same. Human nature never changed. Gohan knew he was fresh meat, and it was only a matter of time before every student would try to get a taste of what he was all about.
Of course, he hadn't expected to be tested so soon.
Along the row of rusty red lockers that lined the wall in front of his office, stood a teenage couple engaging in…
Making out. Heavily.
The long-haired blond boy, a fourth year student Gohan knew as Desker, had his hands wrapped clumsily around a thin frame of a girl. She was pressed against locker number 5639, and Desker's hand moved down to grasp at the small patch of skin exposed between the edge of her matching mini skirt and thigh highs.
"B-Bra." Gohan croaked out and the two teens jumped back from each other in fear.
Well, Desker did.
Bra's swollen lips went from a shocked 'O' to a calculating pout. She bit the side of her lip and Gohan watched, unnecessarily observant, as she brought the fallen strap of her tank top back up to rest properly.
Desker was blushing and stuttered, annoyingly, "Mr. S-Son. Sorry about that, we were just, ah…"
"What are you looking at?" Bra gasped out with unexpected loudness, looking scandalized. Gohan's tongue immediately felt too big for his mouth, whatever words he'd been about to say were flopping around in his mind like a fish out of water.
"I, uh…" The teacher made a random hand gesture that no one could ever make sense of to finish his sentence. Truth be told, he wasn't even sure why he'd made it any of his business.
"You two just…" Gohan sighed. "Just cool it in the hallways, alright? Desker, if you were half that interested in your reading, well…"
The boy's face went beet red and Bra suddenly scoffed.
"But, Mr. Son…" Her expression dancing with barely contained triumph. "I don't have time for detention."
Gohan once again felt flummoxed. "Detention?"
Bra's eyes became watery and she made a frustrated sound. "But I had plans!"
"Uh," Gohan quickly exchanged looks with Desker, but the blond boy seemed even more confused than him.
"It's not fair." Bra pleaded again, this time taking quick steps straight into Gohan's personal space. He held his bag in front of him like a shield.
"Detention in your office is going to be even more boring than English in your class." Bra insulted him loud enough so other students in the far end of the hallway started snickering and paying more attention.
Bra wasn't done. She threw her hands onto her hips. "And it's totally not fair that I get detention and," She waved one gloved hand in the vague direction of Desker. "What's-his-name doesn't!"
The boy beside her was completely forgotten and looking more idiotic by the minute. The blond's mouth gaped open and closed before he decided the best option was edging away to escape being detained too.
"Ugh," Bra grimaced and turned on her low heel. "You won't be able to keep me forever. So better make this count." She announced. Her blue hair whipped around in fierce feminine disregard and Gohan felt as though he'd been slapped.
She stomped off into the crowd, which parted for her as if she were a celebrity. And maybe she was.
Bra Briefs was… popular. If that was the word for it Gohan wasn't sure. But he'd be polite.
Gohan lowered his bag and lowered his eyes too, in sheepishness. The leers of the students weren't really what made him feel so out of sorts. Out of his circle of family and friends, he'd been one of the smartest and most perceptive when it came to people. He'd always prided himself on being able to read a situation.
From what he'd heard, Bra's inappropriate interest in him was only going to be on the table for so long. It was obvious from her seemingly random tryst with the Desker boy. She'd deliberately provoked her teacher with that display.
Gohan was intimately familiar with the capricious nature of girls and women. Most of the time, it was better to hear what they had to say instead of ignore them altogether. He'd have to have a discussion with her at this rate.
Maybe he had to stop reading between the lines.
Gohan had an anxious tick in his leg that caused slight tremors in the school wherever he'd be forced to sit for too long.
He was not looking forward to confronting the young Briefs in his office, but the cards had been played and he'd have to at least figure out what kind of game they were really playing before he could end it.
Because Gohan did want to end this. He didn't like playing games. The only question that kept running through his mind was "Why me?"
And to a lesser degree, that he didn't want to dwell on… "Why not?"
He returned to shuffling through his papers and gathered a pile that he neatly clipped together before unzipping his book bag and placing them inside.
The last bell of the day rang. Today his last period class was a free planning period due to the staggered schedule all the students and teachers followed.
Almost immediately following the echo of the school bell's toll, there was a knock at his office door.
The half-Saiyan man looked up and Bra didn't wait for him to call her in. She strut through the doorway and closed the door behind her. The frosted glass of the door had his name printed on it on the outside, and her hand was resting against the backwards "S" and "O."
"Ms. Briefs." Gohan steeled himself.
"Gohan." Her lip was back to its normal state now, and he watched her bite it in an attempt to disguise her rudeness with cuteness.
"Let's get this over with, shall we? We can discuss the reason of your detention," He made sure to glower over the rims of his glasses at this, making it clear he knew she'd done it on purpose.
"Have a seat."
She strode forward, dropping her frilly bag on the extra chair in his office and then came around his desk.
Gohan floundered and before he knew how to defend himself against the situation, she had sat on his lap.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and put his hands on her hips in one startlingly smooth motion. Just like he'd done with Videl that morning as he gave her a peck goodbye…
"Bra—"
Bulma and Vegeta's daughter just rearranged the papers on his desk and clicked open her garishly pink pen. When he'd told her to take a seat, he definitely hadn't meant this.
She let her knees hang on either side of his own legs and the soles of her thigh-high boots only reached the midpoint of his calves. He ground his teeth together. There was a tiny beauty mark in the exact middle of her shoulder blades.
Bra looked over her shoulder and laughed. "Relax, Teach." She lowered her lashes. "I'll stay seated until every line is finished."
His ki rose without his express permission, and automatically his body tensed. Bra looked at him sharply, and he knew she had felt it.
The blue haired girl's look dissolved into one of vague amusement. It danced across her face before she warned him; "I wouldn't do that if I were you. If you force me to get up, Mrs. Rice—" The Japanese language teacher, "is in her office just next door. She'll hear us."
The half-Saiyan man moved his hands away from her waist so fast that all the extra papers on his desk flew off into a mess that looked like a badly formed tile pattern on the scuffed classroom floor. "Bra, stand up right now—"
Bra turned her head back to face the desk and she placed the pen against one of the papers. Gohan had no idea what he should do, because all she was really doing was writing lines. But at the same time she was in his lap. If he tried to bodily move her, she could make this situation very, very bad, and if he didn't get her to stop then… he…
This went beyond the inappropriateness that had, until now, only existed in his mind and Bra's calculating eyes. He just didn't know where to begin to address everything that was wrong with this situation…
"So," Bra didn't move, except for her hand which was moving carelessly fluid across the lined paper. "Should I keep going?"
Gohan felt his heart beating in his ears just as loudly as if he'd had them pressed to his own chest. The half-Saiyan girl on his lap put her free hand on his knee. He felt some of his resolve crumble away like a useless shield he'd been holding onto for too long.
He swallowed, "Detention's over."
Bra clicked her pen closed and hopped off him.
Gohan breathed deeply as if some unknown foe had finally stopped compressing his chest tight. His pulse was racing. The blue haired girl bent and gave him one soft kiss on the side of his mouth.
Gohan let out a tiny gasp and Bra let her fingertip trace the spot she'd kissed him in a small feathery light touch of a heart.
"Go." The teacher ordered in a sort of desperate tone and Gohan felt bone-crushing thankfulness when Bra left his office without another word.
The ex-warrior wrung his hands through his course spiky hair.
On the paper, written in glittery pink ink, read:
'Give in.'
Chapter 2
