"Thanks." Goten slapped a few bills down on the dark wooden bar bench and picked up the two drinks. Turning back around, he passed one to the petite redhead next to him.
"Thank you, sweetie," the woman smiled warmly, bringing her pink painted lips to the straw. "Yum! See anyone you know yet?"
He scanned the room, drowning out the cacophony - talking, laughing, yelling and, not to mention, head thumping music. "Nope."
"Aw, I'm sorry, baby," she frowned. "I feel bad dragging you to these things, but it's for a good cause, right? I'm finally starting to break into the scene! I can't believe I was actually invited to this one."
"Don't worry about it, Clar," he gave her a peck on the lips. "You know I'm happy to support you while you do your thing. It's important to you, so it's important to me."
She clutched her cocktail with both hands, eyes twinkling at the man in front of her. "How did I get so lucky finding someone like you?" she bubbled. "You're the best boyfriend in the world." Clara place her drink down at the high table they had been making their way towards and threw her arms around his neck, planting a hearty smooch on his cheek and wiping away the lipstick mark left behind. "I love you so much."
He turned his head to face her, a lazy grin on his face. "Love you too, baby." And went in for another kiss.
When she pulled away, the redhead looked passed him, carefully threaded brows drawing together. "Hey, isn't that guy going out with Trunks' sister?"
Keeping his palm on her hip, Goten turned his head the direction she was pointing. It took a moment for him to register who she was talking about, but when he did, he dropped his hand and pivoted the rest of his body to face the man question, fist clenching.
Taking a step towards the group of partygoers, he felt fingers encircling his wrist and looked back at his date.
"What are you doing?" she asked apprehensively.
"I'm going to have a word with him."
"Don't," she warned, arms fully extended while he pulled in the opposite direction. "Stay out of it. It's none of our business."
"What do you mean it's none of our business?" he replied, expression entirely serious. "He's got his hands all over some girl and I don't see Bulla anywhere."
"That's their drama to deal with. Don't get involved. Please." She was looking at him desperately. "I can't afford for you to make a scene. You know how important this evening is for me."
He held her gaze for a few moments, contemplating what the right thing to do was in such a situation. Eventually, he freed his arm of her grasp and marched towards the socialite.
Catching him off guard, Goten grabbed the back of the man's shirt and slammed him against the wall, resting his forearm across his chest. "What are you doing?" he growled.
"What the fuck…?" The younger patron was looking around in a daze. "Goten? What's up, man?"
"What are you doing?" Goten repeated.
"What are you talking about?" He showed his palms, light brown brows creasing together.
"Does Bulla know you're here right now?"
"Of course she does!" he exclaimed, eyes darting to the other guests who were starting to take note of the commotion. "Why wouldn't she?"
"Does she know you're currently trying to get into some other girl's pants?"
"What?!"
The halfling turned to look at the bewildered woman so unknowingly caught up in the debacle. She was staring at him, wide-eyed and frozen in place.
"It's not like that, bro," the younger man placated. "We were just having some fun, celebrating the movie premiere, just like you and your misses." He nodded to Goten's girlfriend. Reluctantly, the demi-Saiyan rolled his head back to look at her. Clara had tears in her eyes and he could see that she was silently begging him to just stop where he was.
"Are you fucking around behind her back?" Goten asked quietly, his voice carrying a heavy tone of warning.
"No, of course not. I'd never do that to her, I love her."
Goten searched his soft-blue, downturned eyes. "I swear to God, if you are-"
"I'm not!" he insisted.
"Clean up your act, or I'll tell her myself." Goten removed his arm after a few moments of contemplation, but aggressively shoved his finger at the man's face. Clara wrapped her arm around his waist, fruitlessly attempting to drag him away. "She deserves better than this."
"Oh, like you?" His expression changed from trepidation to mild amusement. "I'm sure you'd love to tell her, wouldn't you? Then you could get her all to yourself."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Goten narrowed his eyes.
"I get it," he smirked. "She's gorgeous. You've seen countless guys come and go over the years and you're pissed that you've never had the chance to fuck her."
The entire crowd gasped as the pretty boy fell to the floor, palm pressing into the wooden boards while he clutched his nose. "You mother-"
Goten could hear the familiar wails of his girlfriend coming from behind him while he stood over the crumpled form of Bulla's boyfriend, ready to take another swing at a moment's notice.
"Oh my God, Reco!" His lady friend crouched down to inspect his face, but he simply shrugged her away.
"Excuse me, sir." A bouncer rested his hand on Goten's shoulder. "We're going to have to ask you to leave."
"Fine by me," he muttered, making his way toward the exit and casting one last glance to the privileged party boy before stepping through the doors.
The clicking of heels followed after him and he took a breath. He knew he was in for it now.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Clara seethed, clutching her jacket. "Do you know who that guy's father is? I could be blacklisted from the business just for being associated with you."
Goten ignored her and pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts.
"What are you doing?!" Clara demanded
"Calling Bulla," he answered coolly.
When he brought the device to his ear, it was violently smacked out of his hand, landing on the tarmac nearby.
"Haven't you done enough?!" Her eyes were bloodshot, but that was the least of his worries right now. "What's really going on here, Goten?"
"What do you mean?" he asked absently, squatting down to pick up his cell and dust it off.
"Why did you do that? We were just talking about how important tonight is and you go ahead and start a fight?"
He let out a breath, but refrained from responding. Her eyes were beginning to well once more. "You've never even fought for me before," her voice quivered. "But you'll fight for Trunks' sister?"
Goten brought both palms to his face before dragging them up to his hairline and clenching the dark strands. "For God's sake, Clara. For once in your life can you not make everything about you?"
She gasped, bringing her hand to her chest. "He was right, wasn't he?" she whispered. "You like her. You wouldn't even deny it when he said you secretly wanted her for yourself."
"Argh!" he yelled into the night sky. "This is so fucking stupid! I catch Bulla's boyfriend feeling up some other woman and I'm the one that gets the third degree?!" He brought his fingertips to his breastbone. Once again Goten pulled up the contact list on his phone.
"Don't tell her," Clara commanded. "He wasn't doing anything you can pin him for and all you'll do is put doubt in her head every time she's not with him. Is that what you want for her?"
He considered her words for a moment before returning his attention to the screen. "She deserves to know."
"Goten." She gripped his wrist. "Let. It. Go. If you call her…" Clara stared up at him with a piercing gaze. "You're choosing her over me right now, do you realise that? My night is ruined because you care more about some girl and her dumb boyfriend than me and my career."
He slumped his shoulders. What was he supposed to do? Clara was right - he hadn't seen enough to really pin anything on the guy. Reco, he had been reminded by the freaked-out friend, insisted that he loved her and would never betray her. Maybe Goten was jumping the gun running straight to the heiress? Clara had a point that this sort of doubt was poisonous, and he didn't like the idea of putting Bulla through that kind of turmoil unnecessarily.
"Baby," she brought her hand to his face tenderly. "It's her. Or me."
Without a word, Bulla unbuckled, nudged away the swivel-head screen in front of her and disengaged the manual override. Her legs felt like jelly when she stood up in a daze and she couldn't help but press her palms to her face when she felt her brother wrap his arms around her tense form.
"You did it," he exhaled, giving her a reassuring squeeze.
Goten undid his own belts and joined them, pulling both in for a warm embrace and planting a kiss on the top of her crown.
Her head was still spinning and her heart was racing a mile a minute. I did it, she mentally affirmed. We're alive. As was routine as of late, she found herself beginning to cry. But this time it wasn't out of shame or disappointment. She was shedding tears of joy. Pride at her ability to keep herself and her loved ones alive in a time of crisis.
"I couldn't have done that better myself," Trunks whispered into her ear while he stroked the back of her head. Bulla pulled away, returning his fond smile and wiping her fingers across her cheeks.
"I can't believe you made me do that," she let out a laugh, clutching her arm, still coming down from the adrenaline rush.
Goten hooked his arm around her neck while he stood behind her and clapped a hand to her shoulder. "That was one hell of a ride."
"Did your life flash before your eyes?" she giggled, pivoting to face him. "You know I promised your mother she'd get some grandkids out of you before you kicked it, so..."
He let out a snort and pressed his palm to her face, shoving her away.
"Is that how you treat the girl who just saved your life!" she exclaimed, mouth open.
"In this instance..." he grinned down at her. "Yes."
Bulla turned to face her brother once more and saw him watching Goten curiously.
"Now that my nerves are officially fried, I think I'm going to lie down," she shared, wandering towards the passage door and stepping through. When she turned back, she saw the two halflings talking quietly. Trunks had his arms folded while Goten wiped his palm over the back of his neck, casting the heiress a brief glance before returning his attention to the older hybrid.
"Hoooly shit," Bulla whispered, slowly digesting the breathtaking sights of the vast metropolis around her. She could barely register everything, so much was happening simultaneously - multiple layers of highways, ridiculously fast hovercars, levitating trains, blimps with huge screens displaying flashy advertisements, people of truly every shape and size. This city was beyond anything she could ever have imagined. "You weren't kidding when you said Advent wasn't like the others."
"Feels like home, right?" Trunks draped his arm over her shoulder, while she continued to take in her surroundings, like a child at a theme park.
"Yeah, if West City was on anabolics and growth hormone," she blurted. "How long do we get to stay here?" Bulla turned her head to gaze upon her brother, eagerness evident.
"This is our biggest stop," he answered, clearly pleased to give her the answer she was looking for. "We need fourteen individual pieces, and the place is massive, as you can see. We may be here a while."
"Yesss," she muttered, mostly to herself. Girl is back in the big city.
"First things first, though," he added. "We need to check the ship for damage. Everything inside came up clear but we haven't had a chance to see the hull with our own eyes."
"Okay, okay. Let's make it quick." Bulla flew up to stand on the top of their trusty carrier. "I'm dying to see this place from the inside."
Linking her arm with her brother's, Bulla could only watch in awe the bustle of alien city life around her. Nobody even glanced in their direction, everyone so was caught up in their own world and personal pressing tasks. I guess this is strike three, she smiled to herself. Sorry, Bulla, looks like you only appeal to douchey earth boys.
As usual, they needed to organise fuel, water, laundry services and suitable accommodation as soon as possible. Apart from sourcing their CC parts, the ship also needed minor repairs to the exterior, so their list had been mildly expanded. Bulla couldn't wait to dive into this fascinating megalopolis head first and something told her she'd be able to twist her brother's arm into letting her have a night or two out on the town.
"Goten look!" she pointed at one of the massive billboards. "That woman looks kind of like your girl, Clara. If she had tentacles for arms and yellow skin."
Trunks drew his lavender brows together in amusement before looking to the dark-haired halfling. "Bulla-"
"Yeah, she does. In a way," Goten cut in, throwing the older Saiyan a look. "Oh, there's the fuel depot." He pointed to a nearby station. "I'll deal with the tanks and catch up with you guys later."
"Shall we check out some hotels?" she bubbled, giving Goten a wave as he diverted towards the pumps.
"You're in your element right now, aren't you," Trunks teased, smirking at the excited princess while she pulled him towards a set of double glass doors.
"I'm not even going to pretend that I don't love this place already," she beamed. "Pan has no idea what she gave up on when she decided to ditch us. I'm going to hang this over her head for life."
"What a lovely girl you are," he commented before being dragged into the hotel lobby.
"Hello!" Bulla greeted enthusiastically. "How much for three rooms in this lovely establishment?" she drummed her fingers against the flawless reception desk, suddenly feeling the urge to paint her nails.
The clerk looked at the heiress for a moment, pressing her lips together. "Two hundred thousand."
"What?!" Bulla blurted, embarrassing herself in the process. "For three rooms?"
"No," the lady lifted her nose. "Each."
She looked to her brother, completely floored. He, in turn, thanked the icy woman and headed straight for the exit. Once they were outside, Bulla cast a sceptical glance at the building, attempting to figure out what was so special about the place that they could charge such ludicrous prices.
"Next!" Bulla marched over to the nearest competitor. After greeting the second hotel's receptionist with an equally high level of excitement as the first and being given an equally absurd figure, she realised they were in for an uphill battle. Apparently the high standard of living on Advent came at a price - and a rather tall one at that.
"What do we do?" she pressed her fists to her hips and tilted her head towards the sky in thought. "We've got credits, but we'll be broke in no time with those numbers."
"We should keep looking," Trunks suggested. "We could just be in the high-end part of the city without realising it. Besides, I'm pretty sure there are some stores nearby that have a few of the pieces we're after."
The heiress trailed after her brother, watching the chaotic traffic around her and almost losing her face when she stepped into the street without checking left a second time. Trunks grabbed her wrist and yanked her back just in time for her to see what was essentially a colossal wall on wheels roll through the intersection, carrying hundreds of passengers. Oops, she gulped.
Gripping her brother's arm, she followed him to a high rise complex, which he seemed to recognise as something of relevance. "This place is basically a mall-"
"Ooh!" she squealed
"-for technology," he finished, chuckling at her dramatic shift in expression once she heard the end of his sentence. "I know you find this sort of thing boring, so you don't have to join me. It may take a while since I'm hoping to find a good chunk of our parts up there."
"Thanks for the warning," she smiled. "Because I don't get off on that new tech smell the way you do." She poked her finger into his cheek, eliciting an eye roll. "I'll wander around out here, but I'll stay close, okay?"
"Keep your eyes open," he nodded before stepping inside.
Bulla was so excited about all the options, she didn't even know where to start. She spotted a small crowd some yards down and figured that was as good a place as any.
Oh neat, an illusionist. I wonder what magic looks all the way out here. She watched the street performer with keen intrigue and clapped along with the rest of the group when he finished his set before feeling herself being shoved against another onlooker. "Hey!" she called out in annoyance, frowning back but finding no one there. Jerk. She slipped her hand into her right pocket to pull out her wallet and throw a few gratuity coins when she realised it wasn't there.
That sick feeling of dread washed over her as she slapped her palm to her pocket once more, and then the other. Sliding her hands into her jacket, she found those were empty too. Oh no. Did I leave it on the ship? The heiress recalled picking the pouch up from her desk, specifically because she knew she'd want to shop up a storm on this planet at her first opportunity. I know I had it.
Turning her head sharply, she narrowed her eyes at the numerous pedestrians. It could be anyone. Her pulse was beginning to build. We can barely afford this place as it is, I need to get my card back! Stepping away from the rest of audience, the heiress made a fifty-fifty choice and walked back the way she came, aquamarine orbs scanning her surroundings carefully. She noticed an alleyway nearby and poked her head in, spotting someone on the opposite end. He tilted his head back, meeting her gaze for a brief moment before launching into a sprint.
Gotcha.
Bulla tore after him, making a concerted effort to remember as many details as possible - dark thigh-length trench coat, collar popped, a little taller than me. She darted through the sea of people, trying her hardest not to bump into, or trip over, anyone in the process. Her thief wasn't quite so considerate, instead, grabbing on to innocent bystanders and throwing them towards the gradually fuming heiress.
I've had enough of this, she decided, taking to the air above the sidewalk and sailing after him. Gripping both of his arms as she flew overhead, she landed on the flat roof of a nearby building.
"Give it back," she demanded, clenching her fist after shoving him roughly.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he voiced, showing his palms.
"Don't mess with me," she warned. "This was my one chance to partake in a favourite past time. You don't want to get on my bad side, believe me." To add weight to her threat, she raised her ki, causing dust and debris to swirl around her.
"Okay, fine!" he instantly caved. "Take it. Take all of them!" He emptied his pockets and proceeded to throw an impossible number of purses and wallets in her direction.
"You moron! I don't want other peoples' money. Take them to the police station, or whatever you guys have here to uphold the law."
As if on cue, two uniformed locals with dull lavender skin and slits for nostrils joined the pair on the roof, jetpacks strapped to each of their backs. They had helmets on their heads with coloured transparent shields guarding their eyes.
"Stop right there, both of you," the taller of the two commanded.
"Good timing," Bulla praised, pointing to the man opposite her. "Take him in, he's got enough stolen wallets to start his own store."
"We're not here for him, ma'am," the stockier cop responded. "Flying is prohibited within the city centre. I'm afraid we'll have to take you down to the station."
"What?!" she exclaimed. "Are you kidding me? This guy's a thief! I only just got here and already I nearly lost every damn credit to my name."
"Are you resisting arrest?" One of the officers tapped the side of his helmet. She suspected he was engaging some sort of communication system, so as to call in this harmless 'crime'.
"We don't take kindly to outsiders stirring up trouble," the other cautioned. "I recommend you come with us without any further comment."
What the heck? She was stumped. If she went along with them, who knows what their justice system would be like, and what sort of penalty she'd be forced to face for daring to take back what was rightfully hers - and without violence too!
Bulla sensed the approach of a familiar ki and immediately felt herself relaxing. Maybe he won't know what to do either, but at least I won't be dealing with this mess on my own.
"Bulla, what's going on?" Goten touched down, looking between the four individuals on the bare roof.
"I'm about to be arrested," she huffed. "And I guess you are now too, sorry."
He walked over to her, narrowing his eyes at the two policemen as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "What seems to be the problem officers?" he asked calmly.
Both stared at him, eyes visibly wide even behind their visors, not to mention the audible gulp that came from each of them. "No problem at all, general," he stated, stiff as a board. "We had no idea this young woman was affiliated with you. Please accept our apologies. "
Come again?
She glanced to Goten in confusion which he returned with his own baffled look. "Uh. Very well," he responded. "Have a nice day?"
When Bulla turned around to gauge the reaction of the pest that triggered this bizarre series of events, she found he was already bee-lining for the rooftop exit. Whatever, she sighed. I'm just glad I got my wallet back. We can take the rest to the station later.
"Have a nice day?" she giggled, raising an eyebrow at her fellow halfling.
"What was I supposed to say?" he drew his shoulders up in question. "They called me general, like I'm meant to know what that means."
"It means you're some big shot around here. Or you look like someone who is. Either way, you just got me out of a bind… so thank you," she smiled, finding his bewilderment rather endearing. "How'd you go with the fuel and water tanks?"
"Quick and painless." He patted his pants pocket. "It was all over in, like, twenty minutes. I was actually on my way to find you and Trunks when I felt your ki spike. I thought maybe some guy was harassing you or something. Didn't expect to find you on the verge of being carried away in handcuffs."
"Aw, Goten." She bopped the tip of his nose with her finger. "Were about to get all white knight for me?"
"What? As if you need me protecting you. I was coming for the entertainment," he beamed, earning himself a swat.
"That's the best we can do sir," the tight-lipped woman at the front desk declared, lifting her nose.
Is it part of the job description to be so freakin' snobbish all the time? Bulla scoffed after hearing yet another disappointing suite rate.
"Give us a minute," Trunks said, turning back and looking between the two younger hybrids. "Okay, listen."
Bulla didn't like the tone he was taking. She had the feeling she wouldn't enjoy what was about to come next.
"We've been to a dozen or so hotels already and they're all saying pretty much the same thing." He paused. "There is something we can do if we want to stay in one of these places, but I'd need both of you to be on board first."
"What are you thinking?" Goten enquired, arms folded.
"How would you guys feel about sharing a room?"
"What?!" Bulla blurted.
"Okay, so that's a no." Trunks let out a breath and looked up, no doubt trying to figure out their other options.
"What about you and Goten share a room and I stay on my own?" she offered, beginning to feel little bad for giving her brother a harder time than he was already having.
"They only have one room left, and they're way cheaper than pretty much everywhere else since it was a last minute cancellation. We won't get a deal like this again."
Dammit.
"Okay," Bulla breathed after a few moments, closing her eyes and giving a nod.
Goten gave her a sceptical look. "'Okay', as in, you heard what he said, or 'okay', like, you're fine with the idea."
"I'm okay with sharing a room with you two," she answered, trying to sound convincing.
"Are you sure?" Trunks was looking at her just as cautiously as his friend was.
"Yes. Go sign us up before I change my mind. I'm dying for a shower."
He marched over to the receptionist and soon returned with a key ring holding a strange bauble. "Follow me."
Trunks led the way through the lobby towards the glass elevator. They took the lift up to the forty-second floor, marvelling at the view of the rest of the metropolis. "Look at this place," the heiress muttered, pressing her fingertips to the transparent panel. "I've never seen so much activity before." The sun was starting to set and neon lights were beginning to flicker on. Bulla could see people stepping out of their apartments, dressed to the nines. God, I miss that, she lamented silently. I never realised how much I adored those nights until I couldn't have them anymore.
Once they reached their stop, Trunks took a moment to get his bearings before exiting the elevator and taking a left turn. "I think this is us," he stated, hanging the smell ball over a scanner on the door. After a moment, they heard a click and he pushed the door open.
"Whoa," Bulla uttered, taking in their suite. The room had a self-contained kitchenette, a generous hot tub sunken into the floor right in the centre, cover still on, and the lounge had a loveseat and single armchair at right angles to each other. The entire exterior wall was all window. While everything was in one room, the suite itself was huge. Bulla couldn't help but notice, however, that there was only one bed. Admittedly, it was large - larger even than a king-sized mattress on earth. She presumed they encountered some sizable patrons from time to time, but it was one bed nonetheless.
As can be expected, she seemed to be the only one to notice this minor detail, as her shipmates immediately made themselves comfortable in the living area.
Goten hit the jets for the hot tub. "May as well get this ready for later," he said on his way to the kitchen while Trunks sat on the loveseat, kicked off his boots and stretched his arms both directions along the spine.
"Uh, guys," Bulla spoke up, causing both men to face her while she pointed to the bed. "What are we doing about that?"
They rolled their heads to assess what had caught her attention. Goten cast her a quiet glance on seeing the object of her apprehension, but Trunks simply exhaled. "Let's worry about that later. I just want to relax for a while."
"Alriiight," she sang. "I'm going to wash the day off." Bulla walked to the sole door of the room and nudged it open. "Oh, baby," she beamed at the sight in front of her. Mega tub in the corner, a shower large enough for two adjacent, his and hers sinks. The walls and floors were tiled to perfection - indeed a gorgeous bathroom, fit for a princess.
Flicking open the complimentary shampoo bottle, she took a whiff. Ooh, fruity.
"Where are you going, all dolled up like that?" Trunks asked, leaning his head on the back of the loveseat to look at the heiress as she exited the bathroom.
"I'm giving myself the night off," she answered, fiddling with her earring.
"Is that so?" he smirked. "When did you get the dress?"
"I bought it this afternoon while I was waiting for you to finish up at the tech mall. Goten was nice enough to keep me company, weren't you Goten?" she offered a smile to the dark-haired hybrid, but he seemed to be avoiding her gaze. Or maybe he just wasn't interested in the conversation.
"Was he now?" Trunks rolled his head along to look at the aforementioned demi-Saiyan too. "Did you enjoying going shopping with my sister, buddy?" he teased.
"I wouldn't say with." Goten returned, crossing his arms. "I waited outside while she did her thing."
"So you didn't have anything to with her buying that dress?" he cocked a lavender brow.
"Absolutely not."
"What's wrong with my dress?" she frowned, stepping over to assess herself in the generous mirror near the door. The garment in question went past her knees - modest by normal standards! Although it did have a slit on the left-hand side that maybe went halfway up her thigh - and hung nicely off her shoulders by a pair of spaghetti straps. It was technically red, but gave off multiple colours depending on the angle you were looking at it from and had a sweetheart neckline. It had taken her forever to finally find a dress that even mildly suited her shape, and even then they had to perform some quick alterations in store. Now she was finding out it was a dud after all?
"Nothing," Goten stated bluntly, keeping his eyes on the still-amused prince. "It's fine."
"Just fine?" Ugh. Boys. "Okay, whatever. Who wants to join me? Trunks?"
"I'll pass, thank you."
"Goten?" she looked to the pensive demi-Saiyan. "I know you like to go hard from every now and again. I ran into you enough times on the West City scene," she grinned.
After a few moments of staring at the back of her brother's head, he loosened his arms. "Yeah, sure."
He pulled off his t-shirt and began walking toward the bathroom.
"What's up with him?" Bulla queried once she heard the shower running.
"I dunno," her brother shrugged, rubbing both eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "You tell me."
"What were you guys talking about before I walked in?" she pried.
He didn't answer, deciding instead to flick on the TV.
Bulla stood in front of him, blocking his view. "Come with us."
"I'm good." He leaned over to look around her.
"C'mon, Trunks," she wriggled. "How long has it been since you've let loose? Besides," she added. "We're on another freaking planet. Once in a lifetime opportunity!"
"For you, maybe." He leaned the other way. "I'm not in my twenties anymore. My partying days are over."
"Psh, please," she rolled her eyes. "You and Goten went out all the time before you met Melody. It wasn't that long ago."
He looked at her dully.
"We should celebrate!" Bulla was pulling out all the stops. "We're at the halfway mark, remember? Only sixteen left to go!"
"Not quite halfway." He finally gave up and dropped back into the couch. "But yes, we're doing pretty well so far."
She reached for his hands and pulled backwards. "C'mon, old man," she whined. "We all need a mini vacation after everything we've been through. This trip has hardly gone the way we expected, wouldn't you agree?"
He looked at her briefly before letting out a breath. "I'll think about it," he finally exhaled. "Make sure you and Goten don't get separated. I don't care how strong you two are, shit still hits the fan when alcohol's involved."
"How do you know I plan on drinking?" she pressed her fingers to her waist and tilted her head.
"Because I know you," he answered blankly. "It's fine, go have fun just… try to keep your wits about you."
After waiting on the bed for twenty minutes and occasionally glancing at whatever bizarre show was in TV, Goten exited the bathroom in his towel and began shuffling through his bag. Once he'd deployed his relevant capsule, he picked out a few things and returned to the only room that provided privacy. On exiting the second time, he announced, "Sorted."
Not the most impressive clubbing outfit, the heiress mused, taking in his black utility pants, black t-shirt and two-toned space boots. But it's not like he's got anything else. At least he smells nice.
They wordlessly exited their suite and stepped into the lift once it arrived.
"You look good," he said, breaking the silence while they waited for the elevator to hit the bottom floor. She was in the middle of fiddling with her hair in the mirror and paused, a smile breaking on her face.
"Thanks, Goten." She pivoted and prodded him in the cheek. "You're not looking too shabby yourself, mister astronaut." Bulla turned back to continue her primping. "It's amazing what a little makeup can do, right?"
"Even without it," he added, meeting her gaze in the mirror when she paused a second time. "You look good."
The lift dinged, signalling that they'd reached their desired floor. Lightly holding his arm while he kept his hands in his pockets, the two earthlings stepped into the hotel lobby to begin their evening of hedonism.
Post-chapter notes:
We all know Trunks just said he wouldn't go so he could hog that massive bed. I'm on to him.
Thank you again for your interest and amazing feedback so far, everyone. The comments from last chapter were just... wow!