-1Chapter Three

Past, Present, Future

By: The Gypsy Scribe

Hera Solomon decided to cut through the park. She usually did on nice days. Work had been a drag (again) and she needed something to brighten her day. Taking off her shoes and slipping them into her backpack, Hera wriggled her toes in the plush green grass.

"Ah…that's more like it. I was not meant to wear heels." Her business suit set her apart from most of the other park-goers, but the color of it and her ever-present backpack set her far apart from her co-workers. Hera had graduated high school at the top of her class and headed off to college with a full scholarship. However, just two semesters into her freshman year, her father had died of a sudden heart attack and her mother went into a deep depression. Hera put her studies on hold to care for her mother. Sadly, a year later, her mother died, leaving Hera all alone. She was an only child and if her parents had any siblings or living family they'd never told her. They liked to keep to themselves. Hera should have been able to go back to school, but her parent's had not had insurance and it fell on her young shoulders to pay the bills. She at first refused saying it wasn't her fault medical insurance was so high and screwed up but when the state told her they would come after her, take her apartment, her car, and put her prison, she decided school could wait. That was four years ago. At just twenty one, Hera was the youngest person working for the large, telecommunications corporation she'd been hired at. She'd initially applied for (and got) a job as the front desk secretary, but after proving herself there, she quickly rose in ranks and was eventually promoted to assistant to the vice president of marketing. It was certainly not what she'd pictured herself doing by now, but she was making good money and was doing a far sight better than most of the people she'd graduated with.

Un buttoning her moss green jacket, she slipped it off and draped it over a park bench closest to her. The tight white tank top she wore underneath wasn't exactly to dress code, but if she kept her blazer and her heels on, no one cared. Besides, she was good at what she did and everyone liked her. Who cared if she wore a tank top instead of a collared shirt. Who cares if she wore green suits with sky blue trim when everyone else wore black or navy? She sat down on the bench and re-clipped her long hair up. When down, it fell below her waist. All the women she worked with had shoulder length hair, or a little longer, but Hera didn't care. She'd never been one to follow fads.

She put her backpack in her lap and rummaged through it for a stick of gum. Suddenly, she was aware of a vase of flowers sitting next to her. They weren't there before. She would have definitely noticed a crystal vase of red roses sitting on a lonely park bench.

"Where did you come from?" She wondered out loud and reached out to pick the vase up.

"I think that does it!" Bulma wiped her hands on her jeans. "Thank goodness it only messed up the date. Now all I have to do is hit this button here and bring the vase of flowers back."

Trunks furrowed his brow. "Will they appear here? Or in the kitchen?"
"In the kitchen, I think."

"What if someone touched them?" He looked over at his mother, "What if someone is holding them?"
"Trunks, really, you worry too much. I've got to break you of that. Besides, like I said, this entire lot was a park 100 years ago. Who would pick up a random vase of flowers? It hasn't been gone that long."

Trunks just shrugged and wandered out of his mother's laboratory and into the kitchen to grab a soda.

Hera took the vase in her hands. "These are really pretty," she said, "I wonder where they could have come from?" She looked around, "I didn't see anyone. Maybe I-"

A bright flash of light exploded from the vase. Hera screamed and clutched at her bag and the vase. The light faded and left her sitting on a tile floor, holding the vase of flowers, her bag still in her lap, and a very handsome and stunned looking young man with purple hair staring down at her.

"Um…" Trunks had frozen in mid-pour with his can of soda and a glass of ice when Hera had appeared in the kitchen floor.

Hera shook her head as if that would explain what was going on. She looked up at Trunks, looked at the kitchen, then at the red roses in her hand.

"Is this yours?" She asked.

Trunks shook his head very, very slowly. He put the soda can and the glass down and reached to take the vase from Hera.

"Hey, Trunks!" Came Bulma's voice. "Did the vase come back?"
"Uh…yeah." He put the vase on the counter.

"O good! See, I told you there was nothing to worry about. A quick trip there and back again without any real problems-" Bulma stopped talking when she rounded the corner and saw Trunks helping Hera off the ground.

"Who are you?" Bulma asked.

"My name is Hera Solomon. I brought your flowers back." She smiled as best she could, still clinging to her back pack. Her feet were still bare and her green skirt with light blue trim was a bit crooked.

"O my goodness. You came back with the vase?"

"Apparently. I was sitting on a park bench and suddenly there was a vase of flowers next to me. I wondered where they could have come from because they weren't there when I sat down. I picked it up and here I am."

"I'm Trunks." Trunks held out his hand, finally getting over his shock.

"Nice to meet you, Trunks." Hera shook his hand. "And thanks for helping me off the floor."

He nodded.

" I'm Bulma. Wow! So you're from 100 years in the past!" Bulma looked at Hera with wide eyes.

"From what?" Hera asked. "The past? What are you talking about?"

Bulma explained, "I'm a scientist. I've been working on time travel for several years, what with Trunks returning from the future and all, and I'd just prepared for my first trial with the vase of flowers. They were only supposed to go to the kitchen ten minutes ago. Then Trunks and Goten-not this Trunks, another Trunks-blasted a hole in the side of my lab and I knocked the controls, changing the date to 100 years ago and sending the vase there."

Hera blinked several times before holding up her hands. "Wait a sec. You're telling me that you were trying to send a vase of flowers back in time and ended up sending it 100 years in the past. I picked them up and just happened to follow them along?"

"Yep. That's it in a nut shell."

Hera wobbled a bit. Trunks reached out to steady her.

"I think I need to sit down." Hera said.

"Right. Sorry. This is a bit much for you, I'm sure." Bulma and Trunks led Hera into the living room. Yamcha, who'd fallen asleep on the couch, woke up with a start when Bulma shoved his feet off the sofa so she could sit down. Trunks helped Hera sit in an arm chair and he sat on the coffee table across from her.

"What the-" Yamcha rubbed his head, "Bulma, you sure know how to ruin a good dream." He looked at Hera and blinked, "On second thought, hello gorgeous." Yamcha sat up and smoothed his hair.

Bulma rolled her eyes and knocked Yamcha on the head with a pillow, "Not now, Casanova. Hera here has just been through a very shocking ordeal."

"Hera, huh?" He gave her an exaggerated grin and slid closer, "I'm Yamcha. If I can be of any assistance, please, let me know."

Trunks rolled his eyes but said nothing.

"Um, thanks…I think." Hera said. "I'm just a bit stunned, that's all. It's not every day you sit on a park bench and get poofed away to the future. It's a bit much to take in."

"What?" Yamcha looked to Bulma for answers.

"She came back with the flowers, Yamcha. The flowers I said I sent to the kitchen 10 minutes ago? With the blast Goten gave the lab, I mangled the controls and sent it to the kitchen 100 years ago! The kitchen was a park then. Hera here was sitting on a park bench and that's where the flowers went. She picked the vase up right as I was trying to bring them back."

"Whoa. That's heavy." Yamcha rubbed his temples, trying very hard to follow all of what he called "technical talk". He was getting a headache. He stood up, "Well, I'm going to go check on the kids," he leaned over to Hera, "I'm great with kids, you know." The he stood up straight, threw his shoulders back, gave her a clumsy bow, and left.

Hera looked at Bulma, "He is perhaps the strangest person I've ever met."

Bulma and Trunks both laughed, "Yamcha's weird but harmless. All he cares about is finding his next ex-girlfriend." Bulma said.

"I'll remember that." Hera said. She slackened her grip on her bag a bit then said, "So. What do I do now? I mean, you brought me here, albeit by accident. I'm sure you didn't plan to bring along a free loader."

"No, I didn't. Looks like Trunks was right. He asked me what would happen if someone was touching it. I told him not to worry. Seems I was wrong."

She ruffled his hair as if he was a kid. He acted embarrassed.

"So," Hera started, "You guys live here?"

"Yes," Trunks replied after he'd smoothed his long hair again into it's ponytail.

"Wait. Bulma said you came from the future too. Did you pick up a vase of flowers?"

Trunks laughed, "No. It's-ah-it's a complicated story. Actually, I came back here on my own to warn her and my father about a terrible threat to the earth. It was defeated and I went back to my own time. My mother there died suddenly, not long after I went back. I was alone so I thought I'd come back here. The strangest thing is I have to watch myself grow up."

Hera looked from Trunks to Bulma, "This is your mother?"

"Yes. The other Trunks she told you about is my twelve year old self."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty five…give or take a few years. You can never be too sure with time travel."

"Weird-o." She shook her head.

Trunks looked at her, "You believe us?"
Hera paused, considered his statement, then nodded. "Why would you lie to me? We just met. And I know I was just in the park. Unless you were waiting for me to pick up the vase, clocked me over the head and dragged me here, I believe you. Besides, why would you do that? I'm not rich or important or anything. And you wouldn't have to make up some crazy tale if you were just after money."

"You're not like any other girl I've ever met. They usually scream and freak out whenever anything odd happens."

Hera laughed, "You do a lot of weird things?"
Trunks blushed a bit, "Well…"

"It's a long story," Bulma interrupted. "He's a martial artist."

"O. Cool. I always wanted to take karate. Do you teach?"
"Actually, yes," Trunks said with a smile, then blushed again. "But it's not your average, run of the mill, Kung Fu."

"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, depending on how long you stay here, I'm sure you'll find out."

Hera nodded, confused. She then turned to Bulma, "So how long do I have to stay? I mean, do you have to wait until the machine or whatever warms back up?"
Bulma shook her head, "Actually, no. I could send you back right now if you like."

Hera hesitated. This was the first new place she'd been too since college. Her family never traveled. She'd never even seen the ocean before except on TV. Back home, she'd been saving all her extra money for the past four years to take a trip to Europe. But this, if Trunks and Bulma were telling her the truth, was way better than Europe. Maybe she'd stay for a while. "What if I told you I didn't want to go back…not quite yet anyway."

Bulma hadn't considered Hera would actually want to stay. "But don't you have family? A husband? Children?"
"O, no. My parents are both dead. And there's not a guy I know I'd date, let alone marry or have children with."

Trunks smiled, "So you're basically alone."

"No, I am alone. I don't even have a cat."

They laughed. Trunks stood up. "Well, you can stay here, if you like. Mother and Father have plenty of room. O!" He looked around and then sat back down, "I know it's kind of strange, but when you meet me, I mean, the younger Trunks, don't let on about all this weird time travel stuff. He thinks I'm his uncle."

Hera nodded slowly, "Right. Don't want to freak the kid out."

Bulma laughed, "He's not one to easily freak out. He's seen a lot in his 12 years. No, we just don't want him thinking he can just do whatever he wants because he'll grow up to be this handsome, strong young man. We want him to still believe his father could kill him if he had to."

Hera joined in their laughter. Suddenly, a loud explosion from the laboratory interrupted their fun. Trunks and Bulma both stood up quickly, Trunks in a fighting stance. Hera stood up as smoke began to trickle into the living room. From a distance, she could hear arguing.

"What was that?" Hera asked.

Trunks relaxed his stance, "I'll give you three guesses, and the first two don't count," he looked at his mother.

Bulma was fuming. She marched into the laboratory, leaving Hera and Trunks in the living room.

"You might want to cover your ears." Trunks told her.

"Huh?"

"YAMCHA! WHAT IN HEAVEN'S NAME DID YOU DO! TRUNKS! GOTEN! GET DOWN FROM THE ROOF RIGHT NOW!"

"What happened?" Hera asked, putting her backpack on her back and following Trunks.

"I think Yamcha decided he wanted to show off to the kids."

They entered the laboratory. The entire outside wall was gone, and there was damaged machinery everywhere.

"What did he do? Build them a bomb?" Hera asked.

"Ah, not exactly. Remember I said I didn't do your average Kung Fu?"
"Yeah."

"Well, neither does Yamcha."

"What do you guys practice? The Way of the Exploding Warrior?" Hera coughed in the smoke.

Trunks chuckled, "It's complicated."

"Seems like you're full of complications, Trunks."

He gave her a crooked grin, "You have no idea."