11

17 couldn't sleep.

Every now and then, he would toss and turn on the dusty rickety bed, trying in vain to make himself comfortable. If it wasn't pathetic enough that he could not be active forever in this body, he was also 'vulnerable' to the bed bugs that persistently tormented him.

Finally, unable to take the constant biting of the bugs, 17 got up of bed and threw his pillow to the mirror in the bathroom in frustration, causing in to crack slightly.

How did that brat ever survived sleeping on this…this piece of shit for a decade? 17 mused as he rubbed his tired eyes drowsily. Entering the bathroom and staring at his-Trunks bedraggled appearance, 17 began to missed his old home, the comfortable bed he hardly used and took for granted, the fresh smell of his home furniture compared to this house musky one, and even his sister's nagging. The sense of nostalgia almost brought a tear to his eyes.

Almost.

Shaking off the lingering effects of sleeping, 17 crept out of Trunks' room, as silent as a mouse. Satisfied that no one in the house was awake due to his mini tantrum, 17 descended down the stairs, his intended destination clear as day in his mind.

Bulma's lab.

During the day, Bulma toiled in her lab building the time machine. Although 17 still had doubts whether this strange apparatus would actually function, he must admit it was a sophisticated piece of machinery. Very futuristic looking.

Of course whether it would work is another matter.

Reaching the lab, 17 gently pushed open the door, his palms wet with sweat in anticipation. He had thought long and hard on what to do when he finally acquired the complete time machine. Perhaps he could travel back in time and kill the z fighters again. It will almost be a déjà vu with a little differences here and there. Maybe he could take them out one by one, take his time and see their fear slowly increasing with each death or maybe he could torture them and lost himself in their cries of agony. Music to his ears.

Admiring a piece of machine, an abnormal one to say the least, in the middle of the night is probably an unhealthy hobby, but who is there to judge him?

Smirking to himself, 17 fumbled in the darkness to switch on the lights…

And felt a hand gripped onto his tightly.

Shocked out of his mind, 17 was unable to react in time before he felt himself in the grip of 2 powerful arms, so powerful that Trunks' power dwarfed compared to it.

Just then, the light went on.

Shutting his eyes initially against the sudden glare, 17 squinted his eyes to survey the surroundings. His eyes fell upon a short and stout pale-faced man standing motionless in front of Bulma's work desk where her blueprint for the time machine was resting on.

Snapping out of his shock, 17 struggled ferociously to break free from the vice-like grip of whoever was holding him, but with no success.

"Admiring a piece of machine, an abnormal one to say the least, in the middle of the night is an unhealthy hobby, 17." The man commented in a squeaky voice as his eyes darted around the blueprint.

"Just what I need, a couple of smart ass. Who the hell are you? What are you doing here!?"

"I'm Android 19," the 'man' replied, finally breaking his state of inanimate. "No. 16 is currently attending to you."

17 looked back, shocked again. He saw the face of his assailant and something inside of him snapped.

"YOU! I'M GONNA CRUSH YOU, YOU LOUS-mmmph!" 17's rant got cut short hen 16's hand clamped over his mouth.

"Now, we don't want to make a ruckus and disturbed the family of their much-needed sleep, hmm? You are probably wondering why we are here. Simply put, we are here to steal the data of the time machine so that our master can rule the world anew. And this time he will personally attend to it himself. As a wise old man once said, "If you want things to be done, you will have to do it yourself.''

"Who…who ever…build you android wannabe…must be a real dick to…give you this A.I. I never heard…of that saying…you…mmmphh!"

"Why," 19 looked surprised. "The good Doctor said so himself."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

"17."

Trunks looked up, adruptly stopping his caressing of Chi Chi's hair. 18 finally allowed Trunks to put Chi Chi on the sofa.

Trunks had been watching Chi Chi before 18 interrupted. Looking at the frail, feeble old woman, it was hard to draw similarities between her and the Chi Chi he saw in all the old photographs stashed in Gohan's room, those photos taken in 'The Good Old Days".

From what Gohan told him, Chi Chi used to be a strong and independent woman, able to take care of him even when worrying about Goku's life whenever he was facing threats that could possibly kill him. But now, as he gazed at the slumbering old woman before him, he often wonder if what Gohan said was true.

Just a while ago, Chi Chi came to and when she saw him staring at her, she immediately lunged at him, furiously hitting him with feeble blows and continued to moan and wail over the androids for killing her husband. It took Trunks quite a while to get her off him without hurting her and putting her to sleep by tapping on her head. 18 wasn't too happy over the loud din Chi Chi made while she was trying on new clothes upstairs and initially wanted to call off the game and kill her, but thankfully trunks managed to change her mind.

"17, we need to talk."

"Huh? Umm.., sure, what's up?" Trunks straightened himself up, wondering what's in 18's mind. She hardly ever talk to him when they were in the house. Trunks tried to read her expression but all he could see was 18 cold, hardened face that betrayed no emotion.

"Lately, I've been noticing some odd changes about you, the way you talk, the way you act. You don't participate in our games anymore. You talk all funny and gentleman-like and your plan of kidnapping someone? What do you have to say for yourself?''

"Eh… I don't see where this is going…" Trunks smiled dumbly, his heart pounding in his chest, thoughts whizzed around in his mind in a chaotic mess."

"Save it," 18 said icily as she crossed her arms. "I know your little secret."