Chapter 10
Brought to you by Gue22 and ShadowMajin
...
He felt like an intruder, watching them as he was. The champ had his large hairy arms wrapped around her, his chest heaving, his eyes leaking, completely overcome by emotion. He watched Videl's reaction and for some unknown reason he felt disappointed. Sure, she also had her own skinny arms around the large man, yet...there was no desperation in them, no feeling. It's not that he found her aloof or unmoved; it was more a case of...holding back.
"Sweet-Pea!" the large man continued to sob. "I just can't believe you're finally home!"
"Dad," she said as she pulled out of the hug. "Don't get too excited, alright? I'm not really back or anything, I'm on assignment; that's all."
Gohan felt a pang at the man's pitiful reaction.
"B-Bu...b-bu...Videl," he sputtered as his face fell.
"That's how it is Daddy, so please, no more crying."
The champ looked absolutely stricken as he finally turned bleary eyes at him and Bulma. He could only be grateful that Vegeta had decided not to come; he would have scoffed at the man's pain. He would have ridiculed him and most probably called him on all his carelessly woven lies.
"You're Bulma Briefs," said the champ with something akin to respect.
"That's me!" said Bulma with a cheeriness that felt out of place.
"And you..." said the champ, squinting his eyes. "I'm not sure, but I've seen your face somewhere," he added, his face scrunched up in thought.
"Perhaps," was all Gohan was willing to offer.
"Are you from the agency too?" he accused bitterly. "Are you one of the ones keeping my baby girl from coming home?" His voice was raw and think with emotion. "Are you the one that brainwashed her with all that secret agency crap?" He took an angry step in his direction. "Well are you?" He was practically yelling now, his face the picture of rage.
"Dad...don't..." Videl placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Don't start anything...please."
"I'm not. I'm not from that agency," said Gohan, feeling more than just a little put out by the accusation. "I'm trying to help her get out. That's why we're here. We need your help to bring that corrupt agency down."
"Are you saying that my baby girl is corrupt? Now listen here you punk, I don't know who the hell you are, but my Videl-"
"Dad, please." Videl gave him a pleading look. "Gohan is.." A panicked look appeared on her face. "Um...well...he's," she came up short for explanation. "He's an ally and he's right," she finally settled on that description. "The agency is corrupt – I should have listened to you back then,." Her eyes darted around haphazardly as she rubbed her arms uncomfortably. She cleared her throat then. "Can we go to the parlour or somewhere to talk?"
"Right, of course, of course, let's go to the parlour." The champ ran his large hands down his face like a man trying to hold onto his sanity.
Gohan nodded to Bulma and together they followed the father-daughter duo in silence. The champ had his arm draped around Videl and to his eyes the ex-agent looked rather stiff in his hold. He supposed it was a difficult situation for her, finally being home and seeing her father after a long time, only she wasn't returning at all; she was just a prisoner making a pit-stop – a fact she couldn't even disclose.
"...eating properly, I know it's fashionable to be skin and bone for young ladies, but Sweet-pea, look at you! You don't look well at all and that hair! What happened Videl? Did you have some kind of accident with a pair of shears? Are you sure everything's fine?"
"Daddy please, not now okay?" she pleaded, a slight rawness in her tone.
Gohan thought he understood her a little better now; she was doing her best to hold it together for her father's sake. She was still trying to play the aloof and removed Agent Tan, not the long lost daughter. After all, it was like she said – she wasn't home, not really. Giving in to her emotions now would do neither of them any good.
They turned a concave corner and walked into a cosy room. It was tastefully decorated with the main attraction as a large antique desk filling the entire window directly opposite the door. The champ sat at the corner of the table with one leg dangling on the ground. "Uh...yeah..." he said gruffly, "make yourselves comfortable." He gestured at the numerous places to sit.
Videl picked a round ottoman facing a piano on the opposite wall, while Gohan followed Bulma to a two-seater across from the large desk.
It was a thick uncomfortable silence that fell between them, giving Gohan time to feel a few more bouts of guilt. 'Ally' she'd said, and he couldn't deny that indeed that is what they had become. They were both here to put an end to Pho and the agency - together were they not? She was more determined than any of them to see this task through to the very end. So why then...did he still feel the need to treat her as...well...some kind of hostile?
His eyes swept over her strained face and he couldn't help but notice the difference between the woman from Yamcha's apartment and this one. Lips that had been lush and rosy looked thin and chapped. Eyes that had been sultry and daring seemed withdrawn and empty. But what did he expect?
"I guess it's up to me to explain then," said Bulma, breaking the silence.
...
It was an hour later when they all shook hands with a short, stubby balding man who was introduced as Hercule's 'Political Advisor'. The champ had gotten in-touch with him in order to organize an urgent meeting with President Furry. After numerous calls and emails, he was finally able to confirm that the President would be able to see them the next day during his lunch break. Seemingly he had meetings back to back this week, but for the world saviour it went without saying that he'd managed to make the time.
"Well then, we should get going as well," said Bulma. "I guess we'll meet around noon tomorrow at the Central Capitol?"
"Uh...it's a pretty long flight," said the champ. "I can line up the Satan Jet for us to leave as soon as possible. We'll stay at one of my hotels in Central City for the night and then meet old man Furry for lunch there tomorrow."
"Sorry, no can't do," said Bulma. "I still have things to do back home so we'll just meet you there tomorrow Mr. Satan. Send us the address of the hotel okay?" she added, purse already in hand as she turned towards him and then Videl. "Well,
Gohan, Videl...shall we get going?"
Gohan slipped his hands in his pockets. He'd have to be blind to have missed the panicked, if not stricken, look on both father and daughter at the thought of being torn apart so suddenly after only just being reunited.
More guilt piled on the ever rising heap in his soul. In how many shades of cruelty would Videl Satan suffer at his hands? He kept trying to remember why he was still treating her as a prisoner, but right now, in this lush parlour, looking at her fragile and tiny form as she stood next to her father – he honestly couldn't come up with one good reason.
Okay, sure, she'd tried to kill him, but who hadn't? Once upon a time, Vegeta had tried to blow up the entire planet, not just him. But his father had given the Saiyan Prince an opportunity to redeem himself and he had. The same could be said for all of his father's friends actually. Now that he was being honest with himself, it was true for all of them; from Yamcha to even Piccolo – they'd all had it in for Son Goku at one point or another.
He sighed, thorns of guilt puncturing his insides in all kinds of unpleasant ways. Things had to change and it was up to him to initiate it. "That's okay Bulma, I don't want to have to rush tomorrow. I'll stay here and take Mr. Satan's offer to use his Jet."
A flicker of a thousand emotions played across Videl's face as she stiffened in disbelief while a confused expression appeared on the heiress's face.
"Besides," continued Gohan. "I'm sure Videl would rather stay here and catch up with her father than go back to Base."
She didn't look at him, in fact, she didn't seem to be looking at anything in particular, but he could sense the waves of emotions fluctuating in her Ki. He realized that he'd give anything to know what she was thinking and what she was feeling. Was he wrong in giving her a chance to spend some time with her father? Surely if he was, she would have said something.
Bulma stared at him, opened her mouth to say something, swallowed the first thought; then tried again. "Actually, if you're staying, do you really need me for this meeting tomorrow? I actually have a lot on my plate and you have all the information."
"Um," Gohan scratched his head. "Well, if you're really busy then I'm sure the three of us will be fine on our own."
"Good," she beamed. "Good." She gave his arm a squeeze. "I guess you'll be wanting to hold onto this then." She then dug into her purse and handed him the control for Videl's 'necklace'.
Videl stiffened when she saw the device, averting her eyes.
"Nuh," Gohan declined, taking two steps towards the ex-agent. "Videl, you're not still getting those cranks in your neck are you?" he eyed her meaningfully. "I think Bulma's experimental massage brace has worked wonders." He gripped the device and crushed the lock with his fingers. "Let's take it off and see how you manage without it."
"Err...n-neck massage?" Hercule stammered worriedly. "Did you get hurt Sweet-pea? If you need to see a specialist I have-"
"It's fine Daddy," she said as Gohan slipped the collar off. "It was just a crank. Thanks Bulma, I'm all better now." She gave the heiress a half-hearted smile.
"Well then," said Bulma. "Looks like I'm not needed anymore." She took the device from Gohan and slipped it into her purse. "It was nice to meet you Mr. Satan. Take care of her." She placed a hand on Videl.
"Err...yeah, likewise...err...I'll show you out." The champ walked with her.
Left alone in the parlour with Videl, Gohan watched somewhat as she rubbed her arms up and down. "Thank-you," she said quietly. "It will mean a lot to him, to spend a little time together."
He slipped his hands in his pockets, feeling all kinds of uncomfortable. "I'm glad."
...
Impho Pho was tapping his foot on the floor. A glance to his watch made his impatient tapping increase. Time was wasting and there was still so much left to do. Where was his agent? She should have been here by now. She had had several days to do her research so any more time was unnecessary. A growl left his lips. Agent Tan had never made him wait.
A knock on his door caught his attention and he barked out "Get in here." Immediately his late agent entered the room, closing the door behind her. She was a small girl, lithe, and fit much like Tan. Unlike Tan though, she was taller and skinnier than her and wasn't as agile. But she was the best he had at the moment. That still didn't restrain the scowl that appeared on Pho's face, clearly indicating his displeasure. "You're late."
"My apologies," said agent Khakhi. "I have the Intel on the target."
"As you should. What did you find out?"
"His name is Son Gohan, the son of Son Goku and Son Chichi, head of the 439 Mining Inc."
"439?" Imp interrupted. The head of that company was the Delivery Boy? This was starting to make sense now—why the Delivery Boy was targeting the specific companies that he was. He knew who was weaponizing the uranium and where they were holding it because he was the one selling it to them. Of course, it did raise the question of why he would destroy his own products after selling them, but that question was of little value at the moment.
"Yes Sir," Khakhi confirmed. "It was how he knew of those uranium enrichment facilities and warehouses."
"Continue."
"He's lived his entire life in his father's house in the middle of nowhere. His mother is the daughter of the Ox King, the ruler of Frypan Mountain. Incidentally, the nuclear power plant on that mountain is fully run off of the ore he mines for 439."
"Any other family? Connections?"
"He has a younger brother in high school, Son Goten, and he seems to possess the same powers as his brother. There was an incident at his school a month ago where he punched another student through a wall. The victim came out of the scuffle relatively unharmed though."
Pho's eyes narrowed. A boy surviving a super-powered punch without so much as a scratch? No way was that accidental. "Who was the victim?"
"A Trunks Briefs, the son of Capsule Corp's Bulma Briefs. I also found evidence indicating a link between Briefs and Son Goku. It seemed they were on friendly terms."
So it wasn't a coincidence that Trunks Briefs was attacked by Son Goten with full force. That boy knew the other could take the hit, otherwise he never would've unrestrained his strength. There must have been a stronger connection between this podunk family and the world's wealthiest family.
"That's enough," Pho said. Pointing to his desk, he then added "Place your report here. I'll look at the finer details later."
Agent Khakhi did not argue as she placed the report on his desk. "What is my next assignment, Sir?" she asked.
"You may resume your search for Agent Tan. It would be nice to have a body to lay the matter of her fate to rest."
Without even indicating that she had heard his order, she turned around and left Pho's office. That was fine with him considering he had some things to go over. Keeping Khakhi distracted with the missing agent may lead to some other information about the Delivery Boy.
Though her oral report was summarized, it still gave him something to work with. Family was an opening he could use against this menace, not to mention his company. And with his re-emergence from death, keeping his neutralization to a minimum was not a viable option anymore. Any method that could take him down regardless of collateral damage was on the table—the Delivery Boy had himself to thank for that. If a deadly virus couldn't take him down, then there were other, more devastating alternatives that had to be used.
And Pho was not above using whatever it took to take him down.
...
Mr. Satan had been courteous enough to let him use his parlour to get some work done while he waited.
The jet was being prepared for the impromptu trip to Central and Videl had made a few calls which resulted in the appearance of a rather loud, skinny dog-man in skin-tight red-leather. He'd stormed into the mansion, tail swishing behind him and assaulted everyone in sight with two sloppy kisses on the cheek. Gohan had no qualms with the dog, wolf, pig, or cat-kind, hell some of his father's friends belonged to those species, but he did draw a line to being run down with saliva by another man.
Introducing himself as Sisi: Exclusive Stylist of Satan Pictures—seemingly the champ had an entire movie studio specializing in blockbusters about his heroics, all of them earning the number one spot in the charts. The dog-man had inspected every inch of Videl with shock and horrified disbelief. "Oh honey, you're truly back from the dead – you look just like an empty corpse." he had said with dismay.
He'd then proceeded to embrace the shorter girl with his slender paws, suffocating her with a weepy hug. Two assistants had trailed shyly behind the vivacious Sisi, carrying mountains of what Gohan could only assume to be clothes and beauty products.
Videl had then disappeared with the trio, saying she was going to get "ready" for the trip. Glancing at the corner of his screen, Gohan checked the time - that had been two hours ago.
He squinted back to the mining exploration tax schedule—the new prospecting site was going to cost them a fortune in taxes alone. The small independent kingdoms like Mt. Kettle and Mt. Skillet—those not falling under the jurisdiction of the World Government—had a tendency to rip off foreign investors interested in their natural resources. They were determined to inject funds into their struggling economies in any way they could. He frowned at the numbers and began composing a list of instructions for his operations manager when the shrill sound of his phone decided to interrupt him.
The vibration made it hum and buzz around the table top noisily. Picking it up, Gohan sighed—this was one call he couldn't ignore. That ringtone belonged to none other than his mother.
"Hi Mom," he did his best to sound cheerful, "Didn't I?" he frowned. "Sorry about that, something came up after work. I'm on my computer now; I'll just make a transfer right away." He placed his phone on the table and put it on speaker and then he pulled up a new window on his screen.
"...imagine! They had the audacity to threaten to cancel the entire order!" came the angry voice of Son Chichi.
Gohan cringed. "Sorry Mom, that's my fault. I should have made the payment a week ago. How much should I pay?" he asked.
"Just pay all of it Gohan, there is only one week left. They'll be taking care of almost everything from catering, decorations, sound, lights, open bar and the total is a million Zeni. Your grandfather's useless administrators will reimburse it when they get their act together."
Gohan paled. "A million Zeni just for a party? Jeez Mom! How many people are coming to Grandpa's birthday?" he whined as he typed in the amount on the transfer screen.
"A lot – obviously. Most of the villagers are definitely coming, all of Papa's administration and their families. All the ambassadors have confirmed and Papa's invited all the staff members of each respective embassy too. They'll be some snooty foreign investors coming to sniff around as usual and oh let's see...I know the Eagle King is coming from Mt. Skillet, the Prince of Mt. Kettle, the President of WaterKress Republic and several other leaders from the independent states and kingdoms. Oh, five ministers from the World Government are coming and—"
"It's okay Mom, I get it—a lot of people," he grumbled. "Okay, I've made the payment. I'll email my secretary and she'll fax them POF so they'll be no more problems."
"That's great Sweetie; that's one less thing to worry about. Now...it's almost time for dinner; are you going to be home soon?"
"Uh...actually, that's another thing I forgot to mention. I'm in Satan City for business, I should be back home by Sunday, but I'll let you know."
"Hmph! Just like your father, always taking off and not telling anyone where you'll be."
"Aww Mom, I was going to call—"
"It would have been nice to know before I made a mountain of food since your brother is also not coming. Hmph! Just don't forget you have a Lil' Bandits game this Sunday," was all she said before the line cut.
Gohan pouted; his mom was impossible. No matter how old he got, she still treated him like a child. He sighed, looking up from his screen. He was just reaching for his glass of water when his hand froze above it. His eyes expanded as he did a double take.
Oh, wow, he stared at the figure standing in the doorframe.
It was like going back in time —as if he was in Yamcha's apartment all over again.
He didn't know much about women's hairstyles, but he definitely remembered this—that long fringe that almost covered her eyes, that stylish pin holding up her hair in a thick overflowing bouquet at the top, and those stray locks falling to the side like a haphazard head of chives.
She strolled into the parlour dragging a small wheeled carry-on with heels so high they surpassed Bulma's. And like a skinny girl on the catwalk, her eyes looked dark and smoky from the shape of the liner. That ruthless confidence was back in her step, adding flavour to the mesmerizing way her hips seemed to sway in those black pants.
"Ready?" she tilted her face so her eyes could meet his face.
"Uh, just about," said Gohan with a thick voice. He grabbed the glass he'd been reaching for and wet his drying lips.
"Alright," she let go of her grip on her bag. "Pilot's ready, daddy too. They're just waiting on us."
Gohan continued to follow her movements with his eyes. He'd spent the better part of the last two months watching her in her cell from the live feed on his computer, so he was pretty sure that he was familiar with most of her...erm...assets. So he was pretty convinced that she had something under that blouse—something making her breasts seem much larger as they pushed against the delicate fabric containing them.
Her first stop was the liquor cabinet, he wasn't knowledgeable on such matters but the bottle she pulled out looked like the strong stuff.
"Drink?" she offered, almost as an afterthought, but Gohan shook his head.
She poured a generous amount for herself, topping it off with some ice and then down her throat it went. She gave herself a quick refill before she walked away from the cabinet with the sound of the ice clinking with each sway of her hips – at least, that's how it seemed to him.
With her back straight, chest forward, legs crossed, she settled down on a padded ottoman by the side of a large piano.
"What?"
"Huh?"
"You're staring, so I'm asking, what?"
Gohan flushed. "Um...sorry, no reason."
She tilted her head, the tips of her bangs brushing lightly along her eyes and stared him down. "Say it."
"Just...your hair...it's...uh," he stammered lamely.
"I see." She ran a now manicured hand through the dark hair. "They're called
Virgin-Remy Hair-Extensions. These particular ones are sheared from the heads of the Moruti priests of Kami worshippers in a rather absurd ceremonial offering. Sisi pretty much has them on speed-dial. In his line of work, long glamorous hair for all his clients is a must. That's why I borrowed him."
"I wasn't-"
"Your good friend Vegeta left me no choice with his patch work, so this will do until my own hair grows back. Satisfied?"
"It looks nice, you look—"
"Spare me," she threw her head back. "You've done enough for me today: you bought my father and I some time together and removed my dog collar—I'm grateful for both. But please don't feel forced to throw in some half-hearted compliments to make me feel better. I know I'm not much to look at. I made my peace with that a long time ago."
Though Gohan begged to differ, he made no move to disagree with her. Kami knew he'd wrestled with himself to not 'look' at her in that way several times in the past. It had made him feel creepy and dirty considering the circumstances—she a dangerous captive, and he...well...a peeping captor. He cringed at the very thought, feeling all kinds of dirty all over again. Especially remembering how he'd nearly had a hard-on the night he'd strangled her in Yamcha's apartment.
It was shameful how his Super Saiyan blood had been pulsing with that extra something he never felt when he wasn't transformed. The need and desire to not just kill, but to hurt, to see his enemy squirm and plead. That extra something had been beating furiously in him as his senses took in her scent. His eyes had drifted to the lushness of her lips. He remembered feeling it—that animalistic rush as he saw her delicate features contort in pain. He's wanted to hurt her further, he'd wanted to see her lips parting in not just a strangled whimper but an anguished cry, maybe a trickle of blood as well for visual effect.
Yamcha had been trying to get him to stop, to calm down, but just like with his fight with Cell—his words had fallen on deaf ears. He'd been close to killing her then even as his stomach and his groin tightened as she let out another strangled sound – a moan.
"You're still staring," she frowned.
Gohan shifted uncomfortably, startled by his wayward thoughts. He needed some air—quickly. "I'm ready," he shut his screen abruptly and began to pack up.
...
The lunch meeting with President Furry went better than he'd expected. Gohan had never met the short dog-man before, but he knew that his father had back when he was a kid. He'd been impressed by his indiscriminate etiquette, his calm manner, and his patience. The World President had listened to their story calmly with just a twitch of his long white moustache as an indication that he was affected by all the excessively unpleasant parts. Following their explanation, he'd proceeded to read through the compilation of documents diligently.
Gohan had also been grateful for his discretion. The dog-man had spared Videl any difficult questions that someone else might have asked, given her direct role in the assassination of innocent people. Perhaps he'd been moved by the evident remorse and self-loathing plastered on Videl's face as she struggled to maintain a neutral facade through the explanation. Or perhaps, due to his line of work, he'd grown accustomed to such situations.
Once he'd gone over everything to his satisfaction, he'd then called one of his advisors and instructed them to start a discreet investigation to gather any and everything they could on the agency, Pho, his implicated affiliates in the World Government network as well as all his suspected clients. It was a big operation, especially given the necessary secrecy, but the President had assured them that it would be handled and resolved as quickly as possible.
Anxious and highly dissatisfied, Videl had demanded a time estimate, but the best the apologetic President could guess was two weeks.
To Gohan and Mr. Satan's embarrassment, Videl had cursed and stormed off in the company of a box of cigarettes, leaving her food untouched. The two of them had been able to wrap up the meeting with the President.
As a parting message, President Furry had urged them both to do everything in their power to keep Videl calm during the investigation, but most importantly hidden.
"He'll come after her with everything he's got if he suspects that she's still alive and turned traitor," he had warned. "I'm sorry to say this Hercule, but your home has too much staff, too many eyes, too many possible leaks. Videl shouldn't stay with you until this matter is put to rest."
Leaving the matter in the hands of the World Leader, they'd then flown back to Satan City that very afternoon.
...
"You rang?" purred a seductive voice.
Pho jumped, startled when something cold slithered up the inside of his leg.
"Inappropriate Agent Black," he gritted his teeth, attempting to shake off the unwanted invasion of personal space.
A sultry chuckle came from underneath the table and then the agent slithered up the leg of his table and coiled herself on his laptop. With her scaly head and pitch black eyes, Agent Black poised herself before him, an amused expression on her face.
"Human form please," Pho commanded the shape-shifter. Of all the forms she enjoyed taking, he'd never seen her as a serpent before. "How the hell did you even get in here?"
That amused chuckle again. "Why do you think I'm in this form?" she retracted her long neck and transformed into a petit and lithe dark-haired girl. There was a certain oily shine to her skin as she turned those thin and amused slanted eyes at him. "I slithered in through the vents just to rattle you."
"Enough games Agent Black," Pho snapped, waving her off his table, not in the least affected by her nakedness. He would endure it if he had to—nothing he hadn't seen before. "I have an assignment for you."
The dark-haired girl pouted, shifting her legs to the edge of the desk as she slid off, her feet touching the floor. "I hope it's interesting." She tip-toed around his desk and slipped into the visitor's chair.
"I think it might satiate that appetite of yours. Here," he passed her a folder. "That's your new identity."
Long glossy fingers paged through the folder slowly, a disgusted look growing on her face. "You want me to masquerade as this ugly whore?" she spat in distaste, staring at the picture in the file.
"That's right," Pho nodded. "Dr. P. Lefu, nuclear physicist."
"What's the endgame here Sir?" she quirked a brow.
"Just assume her identity, infiltrate the plant successfully and await further instructions."
"Does this have anything to do with the disappearance of your favourite Jawbreaker?" A smug smile spread across her face.
"Perhaps," Pho glanced at his watch. "So while you're slithering around in there, you'd do well to be careful. Just remember that this could very well be the agency's most dangerous mission yet. I've lost my Jawbreaker to this; a hair might go out of place if I lost my Chameleon too."
...
He'd agreed to stay the night at her father's mansion then drop her back at Capsule Corp. tomorrow—he'd arranged with Bulma to secure a normal guest room for her. She knew he could fly home at a blink of an eye and fly back tomorrow to pick her up and take her back. There was really no reason for him to sleep here except to keep tabs on her.
Still, she sighed as she placed the brush down, she wasn't really complaining. He was being diligent with this whole "giving her time with her father" thing. He'd not even joined them for dinner. He'd just ordered a large meal in the kitchen, which he ate only Kami knew where. So she'd dined alone with her father, fighting the desperate urge to just break down and beg him to rescue her from this predicament.
She hadn't of course, she wouldn't. This was her mess and she had no intentions of dragging him into a fight with these aliens. The truth was, despite his reputation, despite Cell...she hated to admit it, but deep down she had her doubts. She couldn't fathom why he'd lied about the so-called 'light tricks'. She'd seen those things in action and just thinking about the damage they were capable of...no she didn't want to go there; and this was not the time to raise those questions. She just...she just couldn't shake the feeling that put up against that Vegeta or Gohan—she sighed, grabbing her lipstick. Put up against those two aliens...she just couldn't see her father winning.
She glided the lipstick over her lips as she stared at her reflection. Well, she was still thinner than she preferred, but Sisi had done his best to give her face that old edge back. Not that she needed it now; she had no idea what she was going to do with her life once this issue was wrapped up. Agent Tan the Jawbreaker was as good as dead.
She checked herself over, nothing fancy. Tattered blue jeans with a black halter top that made her waist appear even slimmer than it was. Pumps for a bit of a lift and she was out of her room. She made it all the way to the front door, but thought twice about going out without "reporting" to Gohan first. She sighed, heading to the guest room.
He opened the door just as she was about to knock—a clear indication that he was indeed keeping tabs on her with his freaky alien powers. "I'm going for a walk around the city, just thought I'd let you know."
"Uh," he seemed thoughtful. "It's okay Videl. You don't have to check in with me. You're free to do whatever you like, just...be careful."
She wanted to slap him right there. Free? What the hell did he mean by that? Freedom was as far from her as her kind of revenge on Pho. If she were truly free, then—
"You were right about what you said to your father yesterday. We may have different values, and I can never bring myself to agree with your view of cold and calculated murder, but...on this Pho issue, we are allies, and its time I started treating you as such."
"You contradict yourself by your very presence here you know. I may not be confined behind walls, but I think we both know that you're more impenetrable than any man-made prison could ever be."
"Perhaps," he agreed. "Look Videl," he said in a strained voice. "The truth is...what I've come to realize is...I shouldn't have taken you to Vegeta. I shouldn't have refused you when you asked for help, I..." he surprised her by pulling her in and closing the door behind her.
She was slightly startled by the way he was leaning over her as she stood with her back pressed against the wall. "I shouldn't have allowed Bulma to put that collar on you and I definitely should have made sure that you were not exposed to Vegeta after all he's done."
"You were being smart and careful," she let her thoughts slip out of her mouth.
"No, I just panicked, and I shouldn't have." He shook his head and pulled away from the door as he ran his hand through his hair. "Even a cold-blooded murder is still a person and should..." he faltered. "I was just...it really doesn't matter anymore. Look, I'll just hang around till we conclude this, just to-"
"Ensure that I don't run off and kill Pho in cold blood?"
"That and...if they come after you, you'll be safer if I'm around."
"So you're my bodyguard now?"
"No Videl, I'm your ally."
She stared at him then and could find nothing but insufferable sincerity in his eyes. Was he fucking kidding? He still largely thought of her as a cold-hearted killer, and yet, just like that, they're allies now? Wipe the slate clean, no "who tried to kill who" and "who tried to torture who?"
She shook her head, resisting the urge to laugh at the absurdity of the dynamics.
"Well," she threw her head back just a tad to get her hair out of her eyes, "I'll be on my walk. Goodnight Gohan."
"Goodnight Videl."
And then she slipped out.
...
She walked around aimlessly, a puff of smoke leading ahead as she took in the familiar streets of back then. She could picture herself cornering a criminal here, kneeing Sharpener there, and being embarrassed by Erasa's outlandish comments here and there.
A pang at the thought of that life. What were they doing now, she wondered. What paths did they take in life? Did they still think of her sometimes, when a quiet moment presented itself? A deep routed longing dug itself out of the dusty chambers of her heart and all she could do was pull extra hard and hold the smoke in extra long to try and numb it. She chastised herself for these thoughts; she didn't deserve to know a single thing about them, let alone for them to remember her. She'd made her choice back then, to play dead and watch from the screen as the city she'd loved, the friends she'd loved, all wept and mourned for Videl Satan.
In the last seven years, she'd only ever been in Satan City twice. Both times she'd moved in the shadows, both times she'd taken a life. Thankfully, those particular lives were not on the long list of the innocent.
"Maybe two weeks," the president had said. Just thinking about it sent her to boiling point in less than a second. Easy for him to say—after all, he wasn't the one dripping blood. She turned a random corner to find herself heading down a rather large and bright street. Walking a few steps down, she realized that the street led to a large open square of some kind. She didn't remember there being such a place seven years ago. Curious, she began to walk down, heading directly for what appeared to be the main attraction. She was only about half way there when she froze,the cigarette in her mouth dropping to the ground.
It was even bigger than the one they had of her father. It was monstrous and expertly sculpted – a statue of a young girl with two pigtails. She was wearing black and yellow boots, an oversized t-shirt and black cycling shorts. The girl was crouched in a fighting stance, a fierce expression etched on her face.
With heavy steps she began to walk closer and closer to it.
The statue was atop a rather large and high granite stand. It was impossible to make out whatever might have been engraved on it though, since every inch of the stand was covered from top to bottom with messages.
RIP Videl, We miss you Videl.
At the bottom of the stand, the stairs were flooded with all kinds of gifts: flowers, chocolates, gloves—which she found peculiar—and lots more letters and photographs.
With trembling hands Videl kneeled down and began to randomly go over the letters and pictures. She had no idea who these people were, but the way they wrote about her, thanking her for saving so-and-so on such-and-such an occasion really made her angry. What is this, some kind of shrine?
Why? Why? Why in the name of Kami were they still mourning a person that died seven years ago! Why? Why were they trying to immortalize her? She didn't deserve this, she didn't! She didn't deserve the praise, the sorrow, the tears and certainly not the warm wishes. She only had to think of those innocent lives she'd snuffed out and nothing but rage erupted. Rage at the clearly disillusioned public, rage at Pho, but mostly rage at herself.
"Why? Why? Why?" she screamed, letting loose at the offerings. She kicked the chocolate boxes and ripped apart the elaborate bouquets and baskets of fresh flowers. "Why?" she stormed the stand, anger, grief, pain, shock...everything mounting up and pouring into her destructive hands.
One by one she began to rip the letters off. "She's dead! she's dead!" she screamed, the salty taste of her tears, the pasty texture of her lipstick, all smudging together on her tongue. "Why?" she crumpled up a picture of her and the old team of police officers. "Why didn't I listen Chief? Why did I listen to that manipulate recruiter when he came for me? It was all for nothing! Nothing! Nothing!"
"Hey, Lady...hands were we can see them," ordered a stern voice.
Videl turned around to find herself staring at two men in uniform, both their weapons were aimed expertly at her.
"Go away," she said, dipping her head, shielding her face with her hair.
"Your hands, I won't tell you again!" the officer repeated, this time raised his voice.
"And I won't tell you again. Go. Away," she forced the words out through gritted teeth, tilting her head to the side.
"Like hell!" said the uniformed man, visibly seething now. "You think you can just get drunk and then come out here and trash Ms Satan's monument?" He advanced towards her. "You're coming with us." With one hand on his weapon, he slipped the other to his pocket and pulled out his cuffs. "Perhaps a night behind bars will...Ow! Ow! Ow!" he yelped in pain as his arms twisted behind him, his cuffs clicking around his wrists.
His mouth gasped in shock, but a sharp pain at the back of neck made him crumple to the ground.
Shocked, the second cop fired his weapon in a panic, but missed. He quickly darted his eyes to his collapsed partner and then back at the spot where the target had been, preparing to take another shot when a shadow suddenly fell upon him. Startled, he found himself staring down at smoky predatory eyes. His breath hitched as he instinctively tried to take a step back, but it was already too late. The dark-haired woman had already swept her legs from under him.
His back hit the hard granite beneath him as a painful force on his wrist forced him to drop the gun. Gasping, he stared up at the woman straddling him, his heart beating in a furious panic. With her had dipped down towards him, only part of her face was visible, the hair covering up the rest. It was disconcerting to see black streak marks running down her face with red smudges staining the area around her mouth.
"I warned you," she said, furious eyes piercing down at him. "Don't you get it? Videl Satan is dead! Dead! Dead!" she yelled furiously. "I'm going to destroy this place and if you try to get in my way I'll-"
Though the officer could guess at what she was about to say, he didn't get to hear it for what seemed like a gust of wind suddenly appeared out of nowhere and snatched her up from atop him like the talons of a hawk and disappeared in the skies.
...
It was distracting to fly with an unwilling party writhing, cursing and pounding on you midair, but Gohan finally caught the twinkle of the light he'd left on in the guest room and flew in through the window. As soon as he set her down she stopped struggling and turned her fury at him.
"Where the hell did you come from?" she swivelled around to face him. "You were following me the whole time! Spying on me!" she accused.
"No. I just-"
"Hypocrite!" she yelled, pushing at his chest with all her might. "All that talk about being 'allies', about not needing to check in with you. I knew it was bullshit!"
Gohan tried to back away from her fury but the back of his calves hit the edge of the large guest bed. He put up his hands in a peace offering instead. "Whoa! Videl calm down, I only-"
"I will not calm down!"
"Okay, don't be calm, but...kindly stop yelling; your dad might hear you, He might think you're under attack or something."
"Fine, I'm calm!" she yelled.
Gohan gave her a look and she clenched her jaw. She reached to her back pocket and pulled out her pack and lighter. "Feh," she muttered as she pulled the last one out. With practiced hands she lit it and placed it between her lips. Just like earlier on her walk she took long drags and inhaled them deeply into her lungs.
"Fine. I'm calm." she said quietly as the smoke blew out from her mouth and nose. "But just so we're clear: I'm sick of having your eyes on me all the time. You say I'm free, but you sneak around like a thief in the dark to follow me around." She took another drag and savoured the taste, and as she blew out: "All so you can have your eyes on me."
Gohan frowned. "No. I only-"
"You're always watching me," she cut him off, closing the distance between them. "Always staring at me; why?"
"I'm not!" he denied heatedly, then coughed as the smoke she blew out wafted to his face. "I-I...sensed some fluctuations in your Ki," he coughed some more and blew with his hand. "Then I felt it spike so I—" He tried to step back, but the bed caught him again and this time he just let himself flop down and sit.
"Oh really?" she stepped between his legs with her head dipped down to him. She was slightly taller in this angle. "Don't lie Gohan, you just like to keep your eyes on me," she said calmly. "Even long after I stopped being a threat, you still just have to have your eyes on me—just admit it."
"That's not true, I only—"
She made an amused chuckle. "I said don't lie. Bulma took me through the surveillance equipment she'd set up for my rooms. I know about all the monitors, especially the live feed that was always transmitting to your computers."
Gohan stiffened, his eyes wanting to look anywhere but at hers, but that face—all streaked with black lines and those smoky eyes—they were both practically daring him to look away so he didn't.
"So don't lie to me," she continued, "because we both know that even when I was held captive, you were always watching me."
"I wasn't, I mean I was, but it's not what you think," he said hurriedly.
"And just what is it exactly that you think I think?"
"N-Nothing," he flushed, and lowered his eyes at last. "I think I'll just get going to my room now," he tried to stand up.
Videl chuckled, refusing to step out of his way. "This is your room, remember?"
"Uh yeah, heh heh," he chuckled nervously and scratched his scalp.
"Don't worry, I'll get out of your way if-"
"If?"
"If you tell me the truth about why you followed me tonight."
"Because Videl," he sighed, lost guts finally returning as he looked at her face. "Because every time I leave you alone you tend to do something destructive."
Surprising him, she smiled—a genuine smile as she stepped out from between his legs. "True," she leaned over to the dressing table on the side to butt out the stub of her cig. "I can't argue with that. But at least, I got you to admit that you were following me, watching me as usual." That little smile was definitely triumphant. "I guess you still don't have all your answers hmm?" She began to walk away.
Surprising her, perhaps even himself, he grabbed her arm and swivelled her around to face him, the uncontrolled force nearly making her topple over on him—nearly. But Videl's sense of balance was better than that; even as she gasped she still managed to plant her heels on the ground.
"Answers? Answers to what?"
"All the questions you didn't get to ask while I was under the influence of that truth serum Bulma said you tried out on me. All the questions you were seeking while you were watching me that whole time in my cell. Let's be frank shall we? You must have been really desperate to get the answers if you could stomach watching me for hours on end in those conditions. If I wasn't twitching or writhing in pain, I was jerking and throwing up. I was a pile of stinking rags on dirt and grime, and yet...even after the truth serum, you were still watching me."
There was something about the way her tone dropped in that last sentence that made him feel even more uncomfortable than he already was. He was suddenly very aware of the fact that he was still holding her thin arm in his hand. Instinctively, he let her go.
"Weren't you?"
"I-"
"You already know about this." She pushed back her hair to reveal the burn marks on her forehead. "What else would you like to know? Hmm, let's see...you might as well know it all, since we're...allies and all. Let's see...how about this?" She reached behind her neck and unfastened the straps of the halter top. Without any support, the delicate fabric dropped down her torso and crumpled around her waist.
Gohan blinked, his lips parting, but no sound came out. He had been semi-right he thought; the black bra was definitely pushing her breasts higher than their natural inclination. Of course, he immediately flushed at his line of thought.
She turned around then and his eyes widened, for more burns were visible at the base of her back. They were not as severe, but they were there, another testament to the hell she must have suffered that night.
Neither of them spoke, and for the life of him, Gohan would never know what it was that possessed him to reach out with his hand and trace the marks. The discoloured skin was rough and bumpy under his fingertips, but the finish itself felt almost glossy. "Videl, I-"
"There's more," she cut him off as she slowly turned around. Her hands reached for the buttons on her jeans, but Gohan instinctively covered her hands with his, keeping them from making any further movements.
"Please don't." he pleaded in a soft voice. "I don't need to see-"
"I've never really talked about that night, not to anyone. I don't think...I don't think I'll ever be able to, so whatever questions you might have...all I can do is..." she moved her hands from under his, "all I can do is show you...please."
He didn't really know when the night had become so still, when the sounds of a bustling Saturday night had stopped infiltrating through his window. The sound of the fabric rustling as he shifted on the bed, the sound of her low breathing, and the sound of his restless heart—that's all that filled them as he removed his hands.
His pulse thumped loud and furious as she snapped off the button and pulled down her zipper. He gulped, his ears ringing out of control as she slipped her hands inside the sides of her jeans. The air from the window didn't even reach him, he was burning up from his own heat. Down her hips her hands went, as the jeans followed suit. In no time at all, they picked up their own momentum and fell around her ankles.
Kami, he was lucky enough to keep the voice in his head. It's not as if he'd never seen panties before. He'd seen them lots of times—hanging on the line while growing up, in shops, in magazines...he'd seen them plenty of times. He'd never seen them so up close and personal though, with his face almost level with them.
She turned around again, which wasn't much of a reprieve, he was uncomfortably smothering in heat and all kinds of inappropriate thoughts. How could he not, when curves and panties were just there...
With just the tip of her index finger, she pushed them down halfway, revealing more burns, more marks and more scars that reached further than the surface of skin. In an unexpected voice she began to speak: "A metal beam fell on my face and I couldn't move. I tried to push it off, but it was too heavy. I-I..." she faltered, and more guilt consumed him at the haunted pain in her voice. How depraved he must be, for letting his mind linger on the inappropriate at a time like this.
"It was pitch black from smoke," Gohan listened as she found her voice again. "and so hot that it burnt through all the padding in my gloves. I was trapped..." her voice was hoarse, raw, "there was so much smoke...and I just...I couldn't see, I could hardly breathe. There was s-screa..." she choked, "screaming all around me. My clothes caught on fire and I couldn't-"
"You don't have to say anymore," he said quietly. "You don't have to show me, I—" He grabbed her hand and turned her around. "Please...cover up." He reached down to help her pull up her jeans at the same time that she did. Her chin bumped into his head. "Ow," she rubbed it with her hand.
"Oh, sorry." he pulled back, again, at the same time as she did.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly, "I don't know what possessed me just now," she added as she reached down, finally managing to pull her jeans back up. "I know it's hideous, sorry to make you see all of this." She zipped up, snapped the button back in position and lifted up her top.
Awkward, so very awkward as she just stood there looking fragile.
"Well...goodnight," she turned around again - this time to walk towards the door, to leave his room like he desperately wanted her to.
"Videl," he suddenly appeared at the door just as she was about to turn the handle. Tentatively he reached out with his hand and brushed the hair away from her face.
"Hideous can never be used to describe any part of you."
And then he was kissing her.
...
That's the chapter you guys. Let the team know your thoughts please, a little hint, hint, and nudge, nudge.