Chapter 11 – Use My Head Alongside My Heart ("I Will Wait" – Mumford and Sons)
Author's Note: I had planned to have this out a little sooner, but shit happens and gets in the way, distracting from the fun stuff and forcing focus onto other things. One of the horses at my barn passed away, sort of unexpectedly. He was old, but he became very sick, very quickly and out of no-where with a bad case of colic. Basically I have been working on a memorial piece for him rather than writing.
I hope that this doesn't sound like an excuse, I would never use that kind of circumstance as an excuse for not updating, I just wanted to let everyone know that I was not in any way squandering time at a beach or with boys. Shit got in the way. But I am in a better place emotionally and starting "writing" on my way to work again, (basically I talk to myself whilst driving and listening to the Queen of Pop, P!nk).
Light assaulted his eyes as it flared to life in the dark room. Piccolo squinted against the sudden change in environment, and only moments later, wished he had thought to bring earplugs as a sound to rival a firing Kamehameha Wave roared over his eardrums. The Namek's ears flicked as they adjusted to the increased volume, his brain manually tuning out excess stimulation with each passing second. Piccolo crossed his arms and wiggled in the too-small theatre seats, cursing himself silently.
The girl next him made him incredibly uncomfortable, being altogether far too bold for her own good. But, he had to hand it to her, she had chosen an activity that was, in the least, tolerable.
He had taken Gohan to the movies several times over the past four years, mainly to escape from the boy's parents - or rather, Goku's incessant chatter and Chichi's shrieked commands. Of course, Gohan had never chosen an action movie before. He preferred pleasant films, children's movies, opposed to anything involving explosions.
Barely ten minutes in, Piccolo decided that this particular movie was slightly more appealing to his personal preferences than those that the Kid chose.
There was, however, something bothering him. A tickle in the back of his mind; what was it…? Ahhhh... He had pinpointed the feeling. Behind him, to the…left. Yeah, left. Ever so casually, Piccolo turned his head, pretending to crack his neck, and, very quickly, extended his arm back into the row behind him, grabbing a hooded teenager by the shoulder. He dragged the lurcher bodily over the seats, depositing him into the adjoining chair. The teen yelped, causing several heads to turn in their direction.
"What -?" Beth twisted in her seat, "what's...going on?"
He ignored her, and yanked the hood off of the boy's head. The projector's beam illuminated spiked black hair and wide eyes.
"Afternoon, Brat."
"How did you know it was me?" Gohan whispered sheepishly, pulling his shoulder's up past his ears. "I was blocking all my thoughts and everything."
"I always know where you are, Kid."
"Shhh," a massive man with a backlit afro hissed from in front of Beth.
"Yeah but," Gohan shifted closer to Piccolo, leaning on his shoulder and murmuring conspiratorially in his ear, "I was being really careful. And kept my ki low."
"Doesn't matter," Piccolo smirked and tapped the Kid's forehead. "We're in each others' heads."
"Who's this?" Beth whispered, leaning across Piccolo, unlike Gohan, she avoided touching him. "Friend of yours?"
"Shhhhh!" Afro and its neighbor, a set of pig tails on a teen-sized head both turned around, fingers on their lips. Piccolo shot them a glare and nodded to Beth.
"I believe you spoke on the phone."
"Hi," Gohan waved, teeth glinting in the projector's light. "I'm Gohan."
"Hi, Gohan," the blonde sounded utterly bemused. "Beth…"
"Would you three shut up?" Pig Tails snapped, twisting in her seat and gesturing rudely, "I'm trying to watch a movie."
"I'm sorry," Piccolo rolled his eyes as Gohan apologized. Kid was too meek, in his opinion. "We'll be quiet -"
"I should hope so!" Afro said in a loud voice that rubbed Piccolo the wrong way. Something about it made his skin crawl. "I'm trying to have nice day with my daughter, and I'm just hearing you lot jabbering on about nothin'!"
"I'm sor-" The Namek cut Gohan off with an angry growl, baring his fangs and hoping that his oversized canines picked up enough of the light to cause a pants-wetting. The large jawed man whipped around in his seat and promptly shushed his daughter's protest.
Piccolo rolled his eyes and settled back in his chair. He would deal with Kid later.
Gohan winced multiple times during the movie, and sank into his chair. He felt his heart rate blitz on several occasions, and gripped the edge of the seat a little more tightly. It was certainly nothing he would have chosen to watch.
The Villain cackled maniacally, taking aim at the Hero, and God did that laughter sound familiar…
Gohan bit his lip. Maybe following Piccolo hadn't been such a good id - He jumped as something landed softly on his head, but the weight was easily identifiable. The boy's eyes left the screen and landed on his friend's face, taking in the subtle tilt of the head and an easily recognizable expression of concern. He offered his mentor a small smile. Piccolo's brow softened slightly, and his hand tangled itself in the boy's thick, untamable hair.
"Completely unrealistic, right?" Piccolo murmured, leaning closer to the boy. Gohan felt the corners of his lips tug upwards as he caught on to Piccolo's game. He nodded. "Honestly," the Namekian was practically bent double as he whispered in Gohan's ear, "the amount of wasted movement is making my stomach churn."
Gohan covered his mouth to stifle a giggle.
"And their form is terrible," he replied in the quietest voice he could muster. "I knew better when I was five."
"Hmph. Five and half, maybe."
Gohan stuck his tongue out, but said nothing else, leaning against his friend's muscular shoulder instead.
As the credits rolled and the lights rose back up to daylight levels, Gohan's stomach rumbled loudly.
"I hope you brought money to feed yourself," Piccolo growled, standing and stretching. He had no need of a verbal response as a general feeling of guilt leaked through their bond. "Unbelievable."
"Sounds like you're hungry," Beth piped up from the other side of him. "I know a place that's not far from the theatre." She looked at her watch, blond brows knitting together as she examined it. "I have…two hours to kill before my shift starts."
"You work at a bar, right?"
"Yep," her tone was noticeably clipped, and he wondered if she was irritated by the Kid's surprise appearance.
Piccolo followed the girl out of the row of theatre seats, checking occasionally to ensure that Gohan had not become caught in the sea of humans exiting the theatre. Several of the humans and other earthlings gave him a wide berth. He rolled his eyes, contemplating growling at a few of them, but decided against it. There was no need to cause a ruckus. No matter how amusing it would be. The Namekian shifted ahead of Beth and pushed the glass doors leading to the outside open, holding them for his two companions.
"Hey, Piccolo?" Gohan asked as Piccolo caught up to them, falling into step beside the half-Saiyan.
"What, Kid?" He did not bother glancing in the boy's direction. Gohan's fingers curled around the fabric of the purple t-shirt.
"You will buy me lunch, right?" Oh boy, was he really starting that nonsense already? That damned note was already in his voice; that cursed lilt, bordering on a whimper. "Or dinner, or whatever this is? A snack. I'll be quiet and spar later - Ow!"
Beth whipped around in time to see Gohan grab the top of his head and stumble forward. Piccolo's fist was still half raised.
"Did you just hit him?"
"Yeah." Piccolo cocked an eyebrow, emerald skin on his forehead wrinkling ever so slightly.
"What the hell?" She put her hands on her hips, "you can't just -" the words never made it out as Gohan bounced up and kicked Piccolo in the ribs, sending the man back a few steps. Several people sharing the sidewalk scattered, others looked on with interest. Quite a few were staring at Gohan in shock.
"Son of a bitch," Piccolo hissed, rubbing his chest and pointedly ignoring Beth and the impromptu spectators, instead snapping at the dark haired boy. "I did not hit you that hard."
"Don't talk about Mom that way," Gohan responded in a manner that could only be described as cheeky, a smile was already back on his face. Piccolo did not reply, merely rolling his eyes and crossing his massive arms across his chest. Beth stared at the duo incredulously, mouth moving but no words escaping her lips until:
"You seriously just beat on each other?" Gohan flushed, bit his lip, shrugged and then opened his mouth, as if to explain, but she cut him off. "You know how fucked up that is, right?" she snapped, waving one hand in the air.
"It's not as bad as you'd think?" the boy tried, looking incredibly sheepish. He seemed to have noticed the other people, and raised his voice slightly. "We're sparring partners. Piccolo taught me how to fight years ago." Gohan rubbed the back of his head and smiled disarmingly. "My entire family is made up of martial artists, even my mom."
Her gaze flicked to Piccolo, whose face was, as per usual, almost entirely impassive, although she thought she noticed a slight discoloration of his cheeks that had not been there before. "Honest," Gohan piped up again. He looked around at the crowd of curious onlookers.
Beth's irate hand slowly lowered to her head, fingers automatically combing through the cropped blonde locks. She blew out a puff of air and stared at the two of them.
"Let's just go," the Namek muttered, nudging Gohan ahead of him.
"We're still going to eat, right?"
"If you insist."
Beth was quiet throughout the majority of the little group's late lunch. Her silence may have been in part due to Gohan's chatter, but Piccolo sensed that it was mostly because of the… he hesitated to call it an incident, seeing as it had not even been a scuffle…the, the… the roughhousing – there – outside of the movie theatre.
"Sorry." He said quietly. She looked up sharply.
"If it makes a difference, the last time the two of us went all out in a spar, I kicked his butt," Gohan garbled from around the entire loaf of bread that had been presented to the table before the meal itself was even ordered. Piccolo shot him a look of disgust and threw a napkin at the boy's face. The half-Saiyan caught it deftly and tucked it into his shirt collar. "Well I did."
"What?" Beth set her drink down, and stared at the teenager, Piccolo smirked.
"Surprised?" he asked, casting a fleeting, fond glance at the boy next him.
"It's a new development," Gohan said, leaning over Piccolo's arm and taking a look at his menu, "ooh get that," he pointed at some cocktail that Piccolo could not pronounce before turning back to Beth. "When he first started training me when I was little, I was lucky if I could dodge anything."
Beth's eyes widened, and Piccolo's ears pinned back against the sides of his head, as he registered the expression on her face as one of horror.
"How – how old were you?"
"Four. And a half."
"Five. You were five," Piccolo interjected. "Now pick out food."
"Five?!"
Piccolo slammed his head into his palms, elbows denting the table.
"I can't believe I even have to say this," he growled, "obviously, I am alien." He gestured to himself, "obviously. And so is he," Piccolo pointed at Gohan. The boy took another bite of the remaining bread.
"Half, actually. But please don't tell anyone, my mom will throw a fit if people find out," Gohan said matter-of-factly. "Hey, Piccolo, so I was thinking that I could get two appetizers - ooh the spinach and artichoke dip look good, annnnd the pot stickers, no, wait, the buffalo wings, no, no, I want the stuffed mushrooms - the family-sized ravioli, a steak, and two cheeseburgers?"
"I thought you wanted a snack?" Piccolo, appalled, checked the menu, tallying up the prices for what the boy was asking. "That's a meal."
"Four meals, at least." Beth had set her menu down, gaping at Gohan. "I know teenage boys eat a lot, but that's..."
"Not for me," Gohan replied cheerily. "I could eat twice that much and still have room for more."
"The waiter is going to ask questions," Piccolo grumbled, he had eaten or observed enough meals to know how much a normal human consumed.
"Well, you order the steak and the stuffed mushrooms, I'll get the two burgers, and the wings, no wait, the artichoke dip... Anyway, we'll split it up and no one's the wiser!"
"What about your ravioli?" Piccolo turned a viciously exasperated glare on Beth, who raised an eyebrow. "Can't have him starving."
Gohan grinned, and Piccolo had to forcibly restrain himself from kicking the Kid under the table.
"You are not getting all of that. Pick two of the entrees, alright, Kid? Then you can get the appetizers." The Namekian offered, hoping the hungry half-Saiyan would relent. Gohan groaned audibly but nodded.
"I guess you're attracting enough attention as it is," the boy said with a sigh, nudging the Namek heavily in the ribs. Piccolo shoved him back, but Gohan barely reacted, other than to scoot right back over to his side with that wide, stupid grin plastered on his face.
"So he never called, huh?" Bulma rapped her knuckles on the countertop. "Ass. I'll fire him."
"Oh, no, Bulma, it's probably my fault. I –" Chichi's voice crackled over the phone.
"What did you do?" The heiress asked, examining her nails, she was due for another pedicure soon. All of this tinkering in the lab was really doing a number on her hands. "Honestly Chichi, I highly doubt that you did anything offensive." There was silence on the other end. "Did you?"
"I…" The younger mother hesitated, "well I got the feeling that he didn't like Piccolo…"
Bulma stood, smoothing out her skirt and walked over to the fridge, a frown on her face as she contemplated Chichi's response.
"Didn't like Piccolo, huh? Well," she opened the fridge, tucking the cordless phone between her shoulder and cheek. "Why should that matter? You weren't on a date with him, you were on a date with Udon." Again, silence. "What did you do?"
It took Chichi a few moments to answer, in which time Bulma pulled a canister of vanilla yogurt and a case of fresh strawberries out of the fridge.
"Piccolo was being such a jerk," she snapped suddenly, almost causing Bulma to drop the phone. "He wasn't talking at all, and was just sulking in the booth, so I talked to him outside of the restaurant." Recovered from the young woman's sudden outburst, the heiress mixed strawberries into the yogurt, swirling her spoon around in the delicious concoction. "I… I guess I might have been…" Chichi paused and drew a breath before continuing, "sort of babysitting him."
Bulma snorted into her yogurt.
"Were you babysitting or mothering him?"
"I don't know," Bulma's ears perked at the defensive note in Chichi's voice and she readjusted the phone.
"Were you flirting with him?" she asked with a smile, not expecting anything more than a giggle and a light admonishment.
"Who, Udon?" Chichi's questioned response came back to her a little too quickly. Bulma smirked.
"No, Piccolo."
"Of course not!" Now that was too quick of a response.
"Alright, alright," Bulma said smoothly, taking a bite of her yogurt and strawberries. "You weren't flirting with Piccolo. He's not your type."
"N-not at all."
Bulma rolled her eyes, and took another bite of her yogurt. "Hey, is Gohan there? If Udon is a bust, then the two of us will have to find you someone else to take to the party."
"No," irritation crept into Chichi's voice, and the blue haired genius could picture the pinched expression that always matched that particular tone. "I have no idea where he went. He's been gone all afternoon." Now her hand was on her hip, Bulma thought, "he has so much homework to do!"
"Oh leave him alone," Bulma laughed, "he's probably out chasing girls." Chichi snorted in what could only be disbelief. "Or Piccolo."
"I'll go with the latter," the boy's mother scoffed. "he's always – oh dammit." Shrillscreams interrupted her. "Bulma, I gotta go, it's Goten."
"I get it, no problem, I'll see soon, okay?"
"Sounds great," Chichi hurridly disconnected, and Bulma set the phone down with a smile, shaking her head.
"MMMMMAAAAAAAAMMMMMAAAA!" A bloodcurdling yell cut into her thoughts.
"God it's like they're connected," she muttered, shoveling the last of her yogurt into her mouth and running to her son's room.
Her thoughts strayed in Gohan's direction for one final moment, before turning entirely to her little lovechild. "Where is your FATHER?"
Gohan waved an enthusiastic goodbye to Beth, who smiled and returned the gesture, before walking into the Rice Cooker, shaking her head slowly.
"She's way out of your league." Piccolo kicked Gohan's behind sharply with his heel as he turned away.
"How so?"
Gohan caught up with him, spouting out superficial reason after superficial reason. Piccolo shook his head, "Does your mother know you're out here?" The boy grinned and shook his head.
"She was taking a nap, and Goten was out with a full belly and a clean diaper, so I left a note saying I'd be gone for a while, then picked up your trail." Piccolo glanced heavenward, contemplating sending a prayer in Dende's direction for patience. It was a sarcastic thought; Gohan had been trying his patience for just under a decade.
"Delinquent," the Namek replied lightly, steering Gohan down a side street to escape onlookers. "Your mother is probably having a conniption, worrying over you." He cuffed the boy gently over the head before ruffling his thick hair. Gohan looked up at him and grinned, throwing his arms around Piccolo's waist, ignoring the Namekian's irritated protests.
"Are we taking your car home?"
"No," Piccolo muttered, trying to detach his pet leech – Kid. "There is absolutely no point. Both of us can fly." Gohan rolled his eyes, groaning loudly.
"I've never been in a car with you before," the teenager complained. "Please?" Piccolo huffed, pushing the boy off of him.
"No. I didn't even use it to get here."
"But –" Gohan protested, and he heard It. Piccolo's hand quickly snapped over the Kid's mouth, the other grabbing him under the arm before he pushed off the ground and rocketed skyward, Gohan hugged tightly to his side. "Fine," Gohan grumbled, shaking off the heavy hand and steadying himself next to Piccolo in the air. "You win."
Piccolo smirked and shook his head before angling in the direction of Gohan's mountain home, ready to face whatever screamed insults would be thrown at him by the boy's mother.
The following two and a half weeks passed by in a blur, finding Chichi continually casting the proverbial line into the supposedly plentiful sea of fish - men - with little success. She had even gone out once or twice with Bulma, to "practice mingling" as the older woman had put it, only to have several men bypass her entirely for her blue-haired companion. The entire experience was made even more disheartening by Piccolo's apparent success with the punky bartender. Still, there did seem to be something off about the Namek of late...
"...Goten."
"What?" The woman jumped, looking up from the half-asleep infant in her arms. The baby gurgled, blinking up at his mother with dark, watery eyes. She gently shushed him, holding him closer to her chest, before looking up at the subject of her distraction.
Piccolo looked good in jeans, she thought, gaze traveling up his legs, consciously skipping his hips and failing miserably to ignore the way his chest peeked out of his plum v-neck. Utterly unfair.
"Do you want help with Goten?" He asked, crossing his arms over his pecs. He hadn't noticed her stare, had he? No, as smart as he was, the Namekian was as dense as any other man, right? Of course, that whole species was just confusing. He technically – she shook her head to clear it, not wanting to think about the physiology of the Namekian People. "No?" Chichi blinked, she could have sworn that she detected disappointment in his voice.
"No, I mean," she stood from the couch, carefully so as not to bother Goten, and took a step towards Piccolo. "I would appreciate it."
She could have sworn that his lips twitched in a smile as he took the baby from her. Goten's fat little cheeks puckered up and released a giggle.
"Lololo?"
"Sure."
While Piccolo may have been hiding a smile, Chichi let hers show. Goten liked Piccolo. That fact had become increasingly obvious as her stoic…friend…had taken to hanging around the house more and more often of late. "You look better," his voice was directed at her retreating back as she headed to the kitchen.
"Who, me?" She twirled around on her toes, cocking a hip and resting the corresponding hand on her waist. "Well I've had a little more time to myself since Gohan started doing more with him. And since I've been eating out so much lately."
He made an odd face, and she stuck her tongue out at him. Piccolo turned his face from hers.
"I'll… I'll put Goten to bed." Piccolo's voice was soft. "I have to talk to Gohan anyway."
"O-okay…" Chichi bit her lip as he whisked off down the hallway. "Dammit."
"So, how are things with Beth?"
The question startled him.
"Hm? Oh, uh, fine, I guess." He accepted a dish to dry, carefully holding it so as not to break the fragile object. "I mentioned Bulma's party. She seemed interested." He glanced at the woman, eyeing her out of the corner of his peripheral vision. Another week had passed, the time of Bulma's party was fast approaching, and Chichi – the reason for all of this nonsense – remained dateless. He tasted something that reminded him of guilt, but at the same time was different from guilt, sour the back of his throat.
"Oh? That doesn't…" Chichi fell silent for a moment, and he thought he heard her swallow, before continuing. "That's…wonderful news. Will you...dance with her?"
"I don't dance," he replied, training his eyes once more on the ceramic.
Silence filled the air between them once more, and he dared to hope that the conversation would be left alone at that, until…
"She a good kisser?"
"Uh," Piccolo put the plate down as Chichi handed him another freshly scrubbed dish. "I...I wouldn't know."
"Whaaaat?" Chichi spun to face him, dropping a bowl. He winced as the horrible sound of rattling ceramic clanked against his eardrums. "You two haven't kissed yet?"
"Should we have?"
"Yes! You've been going out for weeks. You hung out at her place just two days ago." She put her sudsy hands on her hips, and he wondered if she noticed. "I'd have thought you two hit a homerun by how long you were gone! You haven't even kissed?" Was it really that big of a deal?
"We were playing chess," What in name of the Dragonballs was a homerun besides a scoring method in baseball? One part of his brain seemed to be working its way towards an answer, but Chichi's next outburst was enough to distract it from drawing any conclusions.
"I don't care if you were playing Monopoly!" Surely by now she knew how soaked her dress was getting. "Do you like her?"
Piccolo, pinned to the countertop by the advancing Chichi, shrugged noncommittally. He certainly did not hate Beth, he would never have agreed to continue talking to her, let alone go to an aquarium, or her apartment if he disliked the girl. Chichi had that annoying habit of asking questions with obvious answers. It was infuriating. "Well, kiss her."
"I don't want to," Piccolo was uncomfortably aware of how close Chichi was to him. The tiny woman certainly knew how to command attention, to create a presence.
"Why not?"
"It's none of your business."
"It is too my business." She argued, leaning closer. Was it just him or was she growing taller? Maybe he was shrinking?
"How? How, Chichi, is this any of your business?"
He was bothered by her closeness, she could see it on his face, hear it in his voice. Chichi leaned even closer, stepping on his toes. There was a blush flooding his face, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. Interesting. Her hips brushed his thighs. He was annoyingly tall; she had to crane her head back to look up at his face.
"Do you know how?" Chichi asked quietly, voice hovering on the border of a whisper, "how to kiss?"
"That is none -"
"You don't, do you?Her voice softened, and she slid a hand over his chest. She questioned her own intentions. What did it matter, really? It wasn't like it affected her in the slightest. Piccolo could figure it out by himself.
"No." It taken him a minute, but he had admitted it. That was good. The words she next spoke surprised even her.
"Do you want me to teach you?"
"Wh - No! No." Chichi smirked, she could literally see his heart rate increasing. "That…that isn't necessary."
"I know, but poor Beth," she teased, placing a hand on his chest, "imagine her disappointment when her big bad boy toy can't kiss?" Chichi could actually feel his muscles tensing; a twitch here, a spasm there. Her own heart was racing.
"I don't…want..." but he didn't finish. What did that expression mean? He was staring at her, eyes flickering with some unknown sentiment. Could it be...? She shook herself of the thought before it could finish itself. Completely inappropriate. Although, her current behavior wasn't much better than that dangerous idea bouncing around in her brain... This was a bad idea. It was a terrible idea, actually. What had she been thinking, suggesting such...a..
Chichi took a short step back, tugging on his shirt. Her feet still impeded his movements, and he was jerked down to her level. Their noses touched. She felt the heat on his face. She was looking right into those dark, confused eyes. He was cute. And clueless. Chichi's hands slipped up around his neck, clasping her fingers just beneath the base of his skull.
"It's rude to stare," she murmured, pressing her body against his, feeling the panicky ba-bump-ba-bump of his rapidly beating heart through his shirt.
"What?"
"It's rude to stare. Close your eyes."
He didn't. He wasn't going to listen. He was going to keep staring down at her, eyes wide, ears and nose a matching shade of violent violet, and oversized canines hanging out of his partially open mouth. She knew it. But... The tentative touch of his fingertips at her sides seemed to say something to the contrary. He still looked utterly bewildered by the situation; that heated purple blush bridging across his nose continued to spread, skin crinkling where it was discolored by his embarrassment. Chichi felt her own face heating up. That stare of his! "I mean it, close your eyes," a small - no miniscule - part of her was screaming to back off, that Piccolo was off limits for so many reasons, but she ignored it. In one swift, gentle motion, Chichi pulled him down another few inches, and closed her lips over his. Piccolo went rigid, fingers clenching around the fabric of her dress, but his lips remained frozen, not reciprocating. He was not going to kiss her back, she knew it. She let go, tasting his breath on her face. Her heart was fluttering. This was wrong. The whole thing was wrong. She should never have -
Piccolo's arms circled around her waist, pulling her up, closer to his face as he returned the kiss. Chichi gasped against his mouth, eyes popping open for the briefest moment. Whatever part of her that had been screaming at her before was barely a whisper now, and fading fast as it drowned it whatever the hell was happening. What did this mean? Thoughts quickly became useless as she pushed to deepen the kiss, meeting little resistance to her advances. He had one hand under her hips, one on her back, creeping higher. Her hands cupped his face, played with his ears, and, in a dash of daring, fiddled with the antennae. Piccolo made a small noise and kissed her harder, pushing her tongue back into her own mouth. She fought right back, thoughtless.
"Ow," She pulled back with a hiss; one of his fangs had snagged her lip.
"I'm sorry," his eyes widened considerably. "I didn't - "
"It's fine," Chichi touched the cut gently, feeling the sting as tender flesh was exposed to air for the first time. "It's fine."
Piccolo was visibly shaken, and she felt guilt seeping in around the corners of her consciousness. She should have known better - she did know better. But she had done it anyway. Why? Slowly, his grip loosened, and she slid down his muscled torso until she was staring at the soft purple fabric of his shirt. What had she done? Chichi stepped away, face flushing. Piccolo was breathing heavily, but she couldn't look him in the eye. Her gaze refused to travel higher than his chin. "I'll um..."
"I'd better go," Piccolo interjected, voice rough.
She watched him leave.
Chichi sank into a chair, and buried her face in her arms.
I hope y'all still love me. You do, right?
I missed Gohan. Sorry if he was annoying this chapter. But I'm writing him that way for a multitude of reasons.
I swear this damn plot is hijacking itself and morphing into some monster over which I have no control…
Anyway, until Chapter 12.
And 13.
Oh yesssss…..
~ShireWulf
