I own nothin'

Not making it a harem, not sorry. :D

Trunks pressed the elevator button. "Aren't you going to walk?" Power Girl asked. "You do want to warm up for your embarrassment, don't you?

"I just got back from a mission," Trunks said, not turning to face her. "I've warmed up enough."

"Fine," Power Girl said. "Just don't wimp out."

"Where do you think I'm headed?" Trunks said. "I certainly don't need to back down against you." The doors opened and Trunks' eyes widened at the sweaty, hot blonde standing there. "Hey, Kara," he nearly stuttered.

"Trunks!" Supergirl exclaimed. She wore a tight, red tank top with a white "H" in the center and white gym shorts flaunting her toned body. "How was the mission?"

Trunks walked into the elevator and turned around, seeing Power Girl, wearing a similarly revealing gym outfit, staring at Supergirl. The doors closed, the ding of the bell snapping him back into reality. "It went pretty well," Trunks said, "if one counts two helicopters exploding. We saved a bunch of scientists and I beat up bunch of those clown thugs in a paper bag."

"That explains the melted cheese in your hair," Supergirl giggled.

"Is it really that bad?" Trunks asked. He touched where Supergirl was pointing, cringing at the feel of liquified nacho cheese in his hair. He sniffed his cheese-tipped fingers. His eyes narrowed. "This is jalapeno pepper flavored," he said grimly.

Kara was slightly taken back. "Is there a problem with that?"

"No," Trunks said. "It's just that the smell is making me hungry. Do you want to get something to eat after all of this?"

Butterflies filled Kara's stomach. "Me?"

"Yes," Trunks said.

"Are you asking me out?" Kara gasped.

The doors opened to the gym floor and Karen stood there with the same glare she had in the hallway. "No more wasting time," she said, grabbing Trunks' arm and dragging him into the gym and onto a large, elevated mat. "The rules for my little challenge are simple: the first round will be striking. The second will be grappling, and the third one will be a rematch in the simulation area for the record. If you fall out of or touch anywhere outside of the ring in the first round or get pinned for longer than five seconds in the second round, you lose."

Trunks smirked when she explained the third round. "It finally comes out." He stepped up on the mat and took off his sweatshirt, nearly making Vixen fall off her treadmill when she looked. "Alright," Trunks said, taking off his shoes as well. He grabbed some blue boxing gloves off the rack against the wall, ducking a stray basketball.

"Sorry, mate!" Captain Atom said from the basketball court. "Mind tossing it back?"

Trunks telepathically threw it into the basket all away across the room, landing in Green Lantern's hands. "My ball," he said, smirking at the fellow soldier.

"That doesn't count!" Atom exclaimed.

Trunks looked at Power Girl's hands, noticing that she didn't have gloves on. "Aren't you going to put on some boxing gloves?"

"Are you worried I'll break your pretty face?" Power Girl taunted.

Trunks stepped back. "So you're serious?"

"This isn't a sparring match," Power Girl snarled. "You fought Mongul, right? Why can't you do the same for me?"

"If Wonder Woman hadn't stopped me," Trunks said, "I would have killed him."

"No you wouldn't have," Karen claimed. "Take off the gloves."

Trunks removed the gloves and tossed them back onto the rack, amazing even Karen. She didn't show it on her face. "You weren't there."

"Begin!" Karen exclaimed, sending a kick to Trunks' face. He dodged and swept Power Girl off her feet and followed with a spin kick to her back, sending her barreling out of the ring. She caught herself in midair and charged again, throwing a volley of earth-shattering punches into Trunks' arms. Trunks ducked under a punch and shot upward, throwing a powerful punch of his own with his sore arms. Power Girl felt a slight pinch of pain in her stomach from the jab. She landed on her feet and kicked Trunks in the chest. Trunks performed a series of handstands backwards and blocked a punch, countering with his own to Karen's cheek. She stumbled back at the surprising shot and felt her cheek, wondering if the sting she felt was real. She let out a battle cry and charged again, slamming her fist into Trunks' nose, blowing him halfway across the gym. He took flight, hovering above the basketball court. Karen charged toward him again, sailing toward him in the air. Power Girl clashed with Trunks in a lightning fast exchange of fists, slowly moving Trunks to the wall. Power Girl smirked and cocked her fist back, ready to blast Trunks through the wall. Trunks dodged the punch, making her hit the wall.

"Looks like I won the first round," Trunks said, making Karen growl.

"Get back to the mat," Karen ordered. Trunks was there before she finished.

"What are you waiting for?" Trunks said.

Power Girl grit her teeth and she fazed out, reappearing on the mat. "Kara!" she shouted. "Be the referee for this one!"

"Just don't kill him, okay?" Kara said. "It was just a simulation."

"It's not about that," Power Girl said.

"If you say so," Kara said, rolling her eyes. "Begin."

Karen immediately caught Trunks' wrists and squeezed with all her might, making Trunks wince in pain. "What's wrong?" she taunted. Trunks pushed downward, barely breaking the grip and reaching under her arm, ending up behind her in one swift movement. Trunks bridged his arms across the top of her right shoulder and under her armpit. He hopped back and sat down, bringing her down with him. Power Girl broke his grip and flipped around, sitting on his chest and pinning his arms down. Kara counted to two before Trunks easily rolled, flipping their positions and holding her in a half scarlet, pushing all of his weight on her large chest. Karen turned on her side and shrunk away from him, attacking again as she closed Trunks' neck in a dangerous triangle hold. Her brute strength and Kara's repulsion of the scene ended the second round quickly. Trunks gasped and rubbed his neck, eliciting a laugh from the super heroine. "How about that?"

"You're stronger than I am, I'll give you that," Trunks said, "but strength isn't everything."

"Prove it," she said, grabbing his hand and dragging him up the staircase next to the elevator.

"Wait!" Trunks exclaimed. "My sweatshirt!"

"I have it," Supergirl said, rushing behind them up the stairs.

Karen let him go when they entered the white simulation room. "Kara, you know the simulation code."

Trunks walked over to Supergirl and followed her to the observation deck above the ground where Power Girl watched Trunks shatter her record. Kara entered the codes into the computer controlling the simulations and the environment around Karen was set. Five civilians to save and an army of robots filled her senses. "Begin!" Kara said. Karen flew as fast as she could, appearing all over the map and leaving so many afterimages it even made Trunks a little dizzy. Seven seconds passed and she destroyed the robots in eight. The simulation disappeared. "Fifteen seconds," Kara said bluntly. "Congratulations." Trunks walked down the stairs and and opened the doors, watching Karen give him a confident smirk as she passed. Trunks looked around as Kara cued the simulation again. Trunks pushed his sweatshirt back on. "Begin!" she said enthusiastically. Trunks rescued the civilians in seven seconds as well, worrying Power Girl. The robots surrounded Trunks, bringing back her confidence. He had no sword. Trunks lifted his finger, charging a red beam of energy on it. He spun around, slicing the robots into a million pieces. The simulation ended once the robots fell. "Fifteen," Kara started, making Karen's eyes widen. "Point zero one-"

"Yes!" Karen exclaimed. "I am back!" She ran down the stairs and threw open the doors. "How do you feel now, Trunks?"

He walked up to her briskly and narrowed his eyes. "This isn't over," he said venomously. "I will have my vengeance and reclaim the title I stole."

Power Girl's arrogance and pride blocked her genius intellect from seeing what he was doing. "I'll be waiting, runt," she scoffed.

Trunks brushed past her and walked out of the simulation room with Kara. They walked into the elevator and pressed the button for the second floor. "That was very mature of you," Kara said. "Most of the guys I know, even some in here, would have jumped at the chance to beat Power Girl in anything."

"It doesn't matter," Trunks said. "If she wanted it so badly, then there. It's not like we're going to lose any sleep at night over it." Kara laughed. The doors opened and Trunks headed toward his room. "See you later, Kara. I'm going to try to get some supplies for my super-suit, or whatever you guys call it here."

"I'll go with you if you want," Kara said, hoping he would say yes.

"I'd prefer going alone," he said. "I want it to be a surprise."

"Oh," Kara said, trying not to sound disappointed. "Well, you better not try to ditch the league."

Trunks grinned. "I wasn't planning on it. Bye." Trunks went into his room and sat down at his desk. He went into his drawer and pulled out a large piece of blueprint paper and a pencil. He drew a picture of the old Saiyan prince armor he remembered his father keeping in a display case in the master bedroom of their house, from the ridges in the stomach plates down to the details on the cape. He smirked. He'd always wanted to wear that armor but his father would always tell him not to open the case, and the one time he didn't listen, he was spanked through the window. He started writing out all of the details of the armor including a list of modifications to make it even more suited for deadly combat. He finished the outlines for his project and hopped into the shower, feeling the hot steam calm his mind. He stepped out and dressed into one of his new outfits, a black and white argyle sweater with a gray undershirt, black jeans and belt, and black shoes, along with a pair of black-rimmed glasses. He combed his hair out and brushed his teeth. He grabbed his communicator, pencil, and wallet and stuffed them into his pocket. He rolled his blueprints and tried fitting them into his other pocket. He sighed. "I need to invent Compress Capsules again." The light bulb went off in his head. He gasped and hit himself in the head. "Why didn't I figure this out earlier?!" He pulled out a second blueprint sheet and quickly sketched the capsule as he remembered it. He then recreated the schematics for an improved design he was only days away from finishing before he was sent to the new Earth and stuffed it in his pocket as well. He started laughing and jumped out of his chair. "Yes, yes, yes! I'll get the money I need in no time!" He looked on his bed, seeing his three weapons laying there. He fit Mongul's collapsible blade into a belt loop and rushed out the door, flying up the flights of stairs to the surveillance room.

"Where are you going?" Manhunter asked.

"I'm just getting parts for my new costume, machine, and invention," Trunks said excitedly.

"What invention?" the Martian asked.

Trunks chuckled. "You'll have to see it for yourself."

"Do you have any vehicle to get to where you need to go?" Manhunter asked.

"No," Trunks said, "but I can teleport." He put his index and middle finger to his forehead and vanished. He reappeared in front of the Italian restaurant that almost got eradicated earlier in the evening and started panting. "That technique," he said, "so much chi." He took a deep breath and started walking. He looked up into the cool night sky, pleased at the sounds of other people. At this time of night in his universe, it would be dead silence; even the wind had died. He stopped in a square of many different stores. "Where would I buy Kevlar?" he asked himself, looking around and seeing nothing but clothing, food, and entertainment technology. Police sirens blared down the street to the north of the square. Trunks fazed out, scaring a few pedestrians, and reappeared on the sidewalk. He fazed out again, reappearing on top of the skyscrapers. He followed the three squad cars down twelve blocks to a tall apartment building. Bullets rang out from the fourth floor and a paper bag carelessly flew past his face. He knew what he had to do. "Damn it." He grabbed the bag and poked two holes into the front. He put it over his head and fazed out again, reappearing inside of the apartment. He crouched behind the kitchen counter of the small one-bedroom and peaked around the corner, watching four cops break down the door on the smoky drug lab. They dived behind the couch opposite to the kitchen and started firing at the wiry gang members in black and white. One cop poked his gun over the couch and fired at a thug hiding behind the wall of the bathroom next to the refrigerator. He shot back and would have hit the cop in the hand if Trunks let him. Trunks used his sword to deflect the bullet. He looked around the living room of the apartment, seeing three thugs crouched behind the flat screen television held on a platform on an entertainment center with two large speakers on either side of it. On the floor was a large chemistry set, actively pumping out a precipitate and a gas that made Trunks feel incredibly sharp. A gang member popped out behind a speaker with a submachine gun and fired. Trunks stopped the bullets with his hand and lifted him into the air using telekinesis. He slammed him into the other thugs, knocking them out of cover. Trunks raised his hand, raising all of the guns, and flicked it down again, hitting them in the side of the head with their own guns. He walked casually to the bathroom and picked up the young thug, he had to be around twelve, by the throat. "I'm going to convince the cops to let you off easy this time. I want you to turn your life around after this in all ways possible or I will come for you personally. Understand?"

The boy furiously nodded and Trunks sat him down. The cops emerged from behind the couch and aimed their pistols at the bagged man. Trunks pulled out his badge and all four of them sighed in relief. "The Justice League, thank the heavens!" the oldest one said. "Do you know how long its taken us to track down these four?"

"Crime is slippery," Trunks said, "hard to catch, but it hurts when it falls."

"Uh-huh," the old cop's mustached partner said. "What's your name?"

"The Saiyan," Trunks said. "Expect a costume change. Do you know where I can buy a Kevlar vest around here? I'm new to the League."

"We're not allowed to give that information out," the youngest cop said sternly.

"However, since you are with the League, there is a shop on the corner of twentieth and Marine," the fourth cop, a middle aged man with gray streaks in his hair said. He gave Trunks more detailed directions after he received a blank stare. "Get a mask. The bag doesn't-"

"Trust me," Trunks said. "I know." He approached the window. "By the way," Trunks said. "Go easy on the kid. Just rough him up a bit." He flew out the window and over the city, slowing down a little as he truly took in all of the skyline. He took the bag off his head and felt in his hair, feeling another sticky thing. "Oh, come on!" he shouted. "I just washed all of this!"

He free-fell a half mile and landed on top of a small dome-like building in the middle of a small, run-down suburb riddled with potholes and littered with bullet shells. He slid down the side and walked toward the entrance. A tall, bald, muscular man in a black vest and camouflage pants walked out carrying a pistol and stuck it in Trunks' chest. "Hey! Why don't you-"

Trunks flipped the man and held him to the ground. "What's your problem?"

"I just wanted to offer you in-store coupons!" he exclaimed painfully. "I work here!"

Trunks let him go. "Then why did you point your gun in my chest?!"

He stood up, towering over the young man. "It was all part of the pitch."

"It's a terrifying pitch if you ask me," Trunks said, making the man laugh.

"I get that a lot," he said. "Welcome to BulletProofMe! Come on in."

Trunks walked into the small store, seeing rows of Kevlar and other bullet proof fabrics folded on shelves from the front of the store to the back. Behind the counter were ten rolls of carbon Kevlar sheets, each a different color. He walked up to the counter and slid his credit card across to the bald man. "I need enough blue-" he stopped himself. "No, make it red. I want enough red carbon Kevlar to make a jumpsuit out of and some black and white Kevlar and polyester if you have it. Is it Palladium treated?"

"You know it," the sole employee said with a smile. "What are you planning on doing with it?"

"Something good," Trunks said.

The man shrugged and turned around, rolling Kevlar until Trunks told him to stop. He paid for it and took his Kevlar out in a tall, skinny bag. "Anything else?"

"Is there a sports shop around here that sells golf clubs? Or electrical wiring and scrap metal? Or both?" Trunks asked. He looked behind the cashier at the band poster on the wall, seeing a pale, muscular, hooded man with glowing red eyes and a wide, cracking, crooked evil grin with white, jagged teeth walking in a fire over the word "Indestructible" in orange. The band's name was Disturbed. He took out his blueprints for the costume and set it down, extending the jumpsuit piece of the armor over his mouth and nose, adding the ominous grin over his own mouth stretching from ear to ear.

"There's Dick's sporting mall across the way to the west of here on Deppman," the bald man said, sneaking a peak at the blueprints. Trunks rolled his paper before he could see the plans and took his card. "A&J sell electronics to engineers in the outskirts to the east on Boulevard street. You might want to hurry, it's almost closing time for A&J's."

"When do they close?" Trunks asked.

"At ten," he said, "it's nine thirty now."

"I'd better get going," Trunks said, running out the door. He popped his hand back in and grabbed his card off the table with telekinesis. "Thanks! I'll definitely be coming back!" Trunks returned to the Watchtower parking lot two hours later with numerous, heavy bags filled with small kitchen appliances and metal sporting equipment. He opened the doors to the surveillance room and fazed out, reappearing at the foot of the staircase to the apartment floor. He quietly raced down all four hallways and stopped, sensing a presence behind him.

"There's a workshop on the fifth floor," Batman said from behind him, scaring the young Saiyan.

Trunks whipped around, intimidated now by the tall, brooding man. Something about the mission he returned from revealed a frightening aura about him. "Hello, Batman, sir," he said, doing a small bow in respect.

"What type of suit are you trying to make?" Batman asked, looking at all of his equipment.

"One that my father used to wear on special occasions," Trunks said. "It was the best armor known to my world."

"What is it made out of?" Batman asked.

"Carbon Kevlar treated with palladium for the jumpsuit and half mask," Trunks said, "and a liquidmetal steel carbon alloy infused with palladium, phosphorous, germanium, silicon and silver for the chest piece and armor skirt. I'm treating it with purified carbon nanotubes to make it stretch up to ten times my size."

"That sounds solid," Batman said. "I'm going to the workshop anyway to fix my suit. Follow me." Trunks followed him up three flights of stairs to a large engineering workshop. Tools lined the walls and every table was covered in dusty blueprint paper. Windows were placed high on the wall in the back of the room. A large furnace and smelter sat side by side in the center of the room and bright headlights kept the tall workshop well lit, turning on automatically when they walked in. Batman sat on a stool at a table with a soldering kit. He took off his right glove and opened a hatch in the hard compartment over the glove. "Darn that Deloraan, messing up my coil," he grumbled, pulling out an extremely tight coil of 50 feet of wire hidden on the back on his hand.

From the sound of Batman's voice, Trunks didn't ask about the mission. He pushed a bunch of tables together and rolled out all of his Kevlar. He charged a beam of red chi on his finger and started cutting out the individual parts of the jumpsuit. He grabbed a few spray paint cans and flattened out his half-mask. He rolled out the blueprints for his costume and started painting; five minutes later an ominous, frightening grin with bright white, sharp teeth sat to the side as it dried. He sewed the other parts of his jumpsuit together and made a zipper for the pants and a cup using a bent surface ripped from a carbon steel toaster. He checked the paint a few minutes later sewed the mask onto the neck on the jumpsuit along with everything else. It looked perfect. "Now for the armor." He raised his hands into the air, lifting all of the big pieces of unused metal into the air. He fired an extremely hot stream of chi at the assortment of pots, pans, golf clubs, old car parts, melting them into one giant glob of hot metal. The chi stream turned green as the metal started to change, becoming one alloy. Trunks moved his fingers, shaping the metal into dense, dark gray armor covering the chest, stomach, and back with fine dents in between the halves of the chestplate, the stomach guard, and the upper and lower back. Thick shoulder pads jutted from the top of the armor where the bottom of the neck ended, extending three to four inches past the wearer's shoulder and would just barely miss the wearer's arm when he threw a punch. The pads connected with the chest plate near the collarbone and curved over the top of the shoulder to a related place on the back, keeping its shape symmetric. Four flatter pads, each about a foot long, with a similar shape to the shoulders extended in front of the crotch, behind the butt, and two covering the upper thighs. He held the shape in place and used his other hand to raise the rolls of carbon nanotubes and weave most of them into the armor. He sent a blast of cold air at the armor, drying it within a minute. He placed the main armor piece on a table in the corner and raised all of the smaller appliances. He repeated the same process with the nanotubing and dried the extremely dense, stretchy alloy, creating a set of small, very slightly curved bars. He moved them over to the table with the armor set and started to place them onto the shoulder pads, stomach plate as far as the inside of the abs, back plate in the same position as the stomach, and the armor skirt pads. He set a couple bars aside for later use. He fused the bars and the armor piece together, finishing the main armor piece. Trunks returned to the Kevlar and cut out a pair of white gloves and boots, using some of the remaining metal to create the boot skeleton, the metal toes, and knuckles for the gloves. He spray painted the bars gold. "Now for the icing," he said. He walked back over to the table with the Kevlar and sewed two long, wide strips of red and black together to create a long cape that narrowed and curved near the end for a hood. He attached the cape to the back of the shoulder pads with the black part facing the outside. Finally, he reached into the last bag, pulling out a hand-sized square of red glass and various wires. He set his communicator on the table as well. He spent the next two hours carefully building a monocular device that fit over one ear. The glass piece was smaller than a playing card but bigger than the eye. He used whatever metal was left over for a frame and an ear cushion from a headphone as a speaker. The device had four buttons on the side in a square. The communicator had been disassembled and a majority of its parts went into the device. "Batman," Trunks said, "would you mind calling my communicator?"

"It works," Batman said without even looking. "I know the sound of a League mircon chip being torn apart and built again. If I built it, it works."

"Well," Trunks said, "thanks." He set all of the pieces, the armor set and cloak, the boots, the gloves, the communicator, and the jumpsuit along the wide table he had made to store everything. "I'll be right back." He ran out the room, down to the residential floor and into his room, grabbing his sheathed sword and Deadshot's sniper rifle. He ran out and up the flights again back to the workshop, laying them all out. He took a black strip of Kevlar and some leftover metal and nanotubes and created a belt with several compartments for small gadgets and holes for weapons. The insignia on the red belt buckle was a black trident dashed at the staff with a white crescent opening upward at the bottom of the staff with a black spike under the crescent. He even created a new black sheathe and rifle holster. "One more thing..." Trunks trailed off, trying to remember. "Oh! That's right." He went over to the collection of bags he had amassed and pulled out the smallest one. In it was some cheap plastic and metal, some wiring and silicon chips, and finally a flat-headed push pin. "Don't worry, guys," he said, sitting down at a soldering station. "I'm on my way." Three hours passed. Trunks' hands were gray from all of the wiring and rewiring, but in his hand was the commercial tycoon his mother invented and that he expounded on. It was a blue, pocket-sized, pill-shaped bottle with the push pin sticking out of the top. "Capsule Corp. Capsule Beta" was written on the face of it in red sharpie. He aimed the bottom of it at the black belt and clicked the pushpin. A small hole in the bottom opened and sucked in the belt, shrinking it at the same time. He clicked the pushpin again, spitting it back out onto the table in its full size. He turned the capsule toward himself. "Batman," he said. "If you don't hear anything for awhile-"

"Click the push pin again," Batman said, busily fixing a technologically enhanced batarang.

"But how did you-"

"I have eyes in the back of my head," Batman said. "Oliver should learn too."

"I'll tell him," Trunks said. "Here it goes!" He clicked the pushpin. The vacuum opened but nothing changed size or was sucked in. "Ha! Yes!" Trunks said, grabbing several spray cans. He painted the armor besides the golden plates bright white as well as the borders of the shoulder pads and armor skirt. He quick-dried it with a blast of super breath and became even more excited.

"Not here," Batman said.

"Wasn't planning on it." Trunks grabbed all that he had brought into the room and walked into the elevator. "See you later, Batman."

"Be ready for a mission at any time," Batman sent him off with as the doors closed.

Trunks rushed to his room and sat everything on the bed. He changed into the jumpsuit first, pulling the half mask up over his mouth, ears and nose. The disturbed smile stretched from ear to ear just like he wanted it. He put on the armor set, belt, and cape-cloak next. He pulled the hood over his head, liking how his opponents could only see his eyes if he let them. He fastened his boots and gloves and stuck his sword sheathe in the side opening of the belt opposite to his leading arm. Mongul's blade hung in its collapsed state face down, the fatter end of the handle making it easy to secure. He threw the rifle into the holster and threw that on his back. Finally, he placed the communicator on his left ear and pressed a button. Five large blips and fifteen smaller ones appeared in yellow on the glass. He pressed another button. "Perfect." He placed the capsule on his desk and changed out of his new costume into a tee shirt and shorts. The next two hours would be the best sleep he would have in years. He wished it would have been longer, but there was a knock at the door.

"Trunks!" Doctor Light called. "I need you for a mission! Please hurry!"

Trunks yawned and hopped out of bed, quickly changing into his costume. He grinned again. He was going to surprise so many people.