Insert obligatory diclaimer here. Hope you like this chapter, sorry it took so long.

Chapter 3
Otherwise entitled: Okay, time for plan B.

"

She's a killer Queen
Gunpowder, Gelatine -
Dynamite with a laser beam,
Guaranteed to blow your mind -anytime." - Queen.

Standing outside the Rakshasa, (newly revealed to be a nightclub) Krillin mused that bringing Piccolo along was probably not the best idea. The namek was already quite obviously not pleased to have gotten involved with the whole mess in the first place, so spending however long in a club filled to the brim with people and loud music wasn't going to improve his mood in the slightest.

From what clientele Krillin could see lined up by the doors, it was probably a club that catered almost exclusively to Demon-folk. He suppressed a shudder.

Oh kami, thought Krillin, this was going to be interesting... to say the least. He didn't like demons. At all. And there were going to be lots of them. He cringed.

Yamcha was standing next to him; letting out a whistle as he eyed up the line. Turning to his short friend, he nodded his head at the doors, "Might as well head on in."

Krillin looked doubtful and fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. He'd made a bit of an effort, but he wasn't quite sure why.

"Piccolo?"

His only reply was a low hmph as the huge namek stalked straight past him towards the entrance. Yamcha followed him. Krillin let out a sigh.

"I guess that's a yes then."

The bouncer at the door was a huge demon resembling a dragon, and he glared over his sunglasses at the two men before him. Pulling out a clipboard, he tapped it with a tattooed knuckle, and in response Krillin held up his VIP pass trying his best not to look terrified. The bouncer's ugly face scrunched up as he scrutinised it and shaking his head, he moved aside to let the tiny man past, only to bar Yamcha's path.

"I...I'm his plus one."

The bouncer looked at Krillin who nodded vigorously. Scowling at Yamcha, he begrudgingly let him past, and turned his attention to the third member of this little party.

"It was only a plus one, unless your name's on the list-", both his confidence and sentence faltered as he found himself looking up at Piccolo. Turning an odd shade of grey, the demon bouncer all but dove out of the namek's way. Krillin and Yamcha watched, confused as to whether they should be impressed or terrified at the sight of the huge doorman profusely apologising for his manner of address and actually bowing as Piccolo glided past him. They stared at their companion as he caught up to them.

"Dude, I think you made him wet himself... why did he bow, anyway?"

"I'm the Demon King, remember?"

"Ah."

"So were you on the list?" Krillin grinned inanely.

Piccolo rolled his eyes and grumbled, "Let's just get on with this."

As the namek walked ahead, Krillin nudged his human companion, "No list can stop Piccolo."

The Rakshasa wasn't a full as Krillin had expected, but there were still enough demons (and a whole host of other rather questionable clientele who could vaguely be categorized as 'creatures of the night') to give him the creeps. The decor was modern and sharp, but dark and quite distinctly gothic in style; there were two rooms, the upstairs abundant in sitting areas (tables, sofa's and booth's) and a large bar running the length of the wall manned by human looking bar-staff. A large staircase led downstairs to a huge dance floor. What seemed to strike him the most about the place was that the heavy rock music being played was not deafening to the point it was in human bars and clubs he'd been to, but at a comfortable volume, easy enough to talk over. What he then found most striking was a horrifically familiar kanji on a banner on the wall above the bar. He shuddered. Precisely the reason demon's scared him so much in the first place. Resisting the urge to sneak a look at Piccolo to see if he'd noticed the symbol too, Krillin claimed a booth further to the back of the club and settled himself.

Piccolo followed him silently, assessing the area and the crowd. Some strong power levels, but nothing he couldn't handle (even if they were suppressing their ki), nothing, he concluded, that the two humans would have too much trouble with, despite both of them admitting to not having trained properly since Cell was defeated.

It was then Yamcha turned to Krillin, with the notion of offering to buy a round of drinks (did Piccolo even drink? Scotch. Maybe Whisky. Vodka. A Dry Martini shaken n- no. Let's not go there). When he had left them, Krillin took a deep breathe and scanned the room warily; he was looking for a blue demon woman with horns, wings and a tail in a room full of colourful demons with horns, wings and tails.

He put his head in his hands.

Look's like she'll be coming to me.

Dear lord, thought Majon, as she saw Krillin and his companions enter the room, they really weren't kidding when they said he was short. Standing at about 6 foot, she was used towering over most men – but this was ridiculous. She was by the door behind the bar, chatting to a couple of other demon-women, and wouldn't have noticed him at all if it hadn't been for her friends turning round and gawping at his tallest companion. ("Dibbs!" shouted a curvy lilac demon, raising a hand as if she were in a classroom. Her companions broke into hysterical laughter, "You can't just dibbs!"

"Of course I can – look at those jeans! HAVE MERCY!")

Majon frowned. She was old enough to know who he was, and what he was capable of. But when she noticed the two distinctly uncomfortable looking human men sticking close by him, she realised why he was here and a little flame of annoyance flickered to life inside of her.

Thought he could weasel his way out by hiding behind the Demon King did he?

Well. The demoness smoothed down her vivid pink dress; a smirk playing on her lips. We'll soon see about that.

Leaving the gaggle of demon-women to giggle, she sailed past the bar, turning only to tell the human shaped woman serving drinks to pass her a glass of water.

The cold-eyed barmaid did just that.

Yamcha leaned against the bar waiting for the drinks, hoping he didn't look as uncomfortable as he felt. He and Krillin weren't the only humans in the Rakshasa, but he concluded that they were by far the most savory characters.

The bar staff seemed to be human. Well. Two of them at least, girls decided, since he could only see the backs of their heads. A blonde and a...brunette? He couldn't tell. The lighting was terrible. He looked back to where Krillin and Piccolo were sat at a booth in the corner. The monk looked nervous and the namek, as per usual, had his arms folded and his eyes closed, that semi-permanent frown etched on his face. Yamcha sighed. It was going to be a very long night, regardless of the four bottles of beer he had purchased: an extra for Krillin, he needed it. Piccolo had given him a blank look and had shrugged, so he had taken that as a "get me anything". He had eyed up the most feminine cocktails, but figured that would inevitably lead to a painful death – so beer it was.

When he saw Krillin's turn an odd shade of white, then suddenly bright scarlet, which heralded Majon's arrival to the table; Yamcha saw full well just how arduous a night this was going to be.

A demoness was striding towards them, cerise dress clinging to her rather sizable hips. Blue as the summer sky with hair that was either white or heavily bleached, Majon, sister of Akkuman cut an impressive sight, feminine and sharp but sturdy and full. All woman. All demon. Trouble.

"Ooooh crap."

"You got that right."

Krillin gave Piccolo an odd look. Maybe he hadn't realised he'd said that. Maybe he hadn't realised that the tips of his ears had gone slightly purple.

"Bon journo sweetie, Ma Junior." She nodded to them both, holding Krillin's gaze for a millisecond too long, making him blush. From behind her, a burly demon pulled up a chair and she made herself comfortable.

"So, how do you boys like the Rakshasa?"

"I see she has a new victim."

Yamcha heard the clink of bottles behind him and a man's voice.

"That'll be 12 zeni 50." The barman purred, youthful tone dripping with boredom.

One moment, the bandit was worrying about Krillin and his insane 'romantic' predicament – the next moment, as he turned and found himself staring into frosty blue eyes he recognised all too well, he started to worry about something very different.

"Shā Yamcha," a cold smile spread across his lips, the bandit gulped.

Yamcha neither moved nor replied, he simply stared at Android 17 dumbly, several choice swearwords repeating themselves in rapid succession through his mind.

"12 zeni 50." He slammed the money down. Still silent. Still with the expression of a deer caught in headlights.

"Wha...wait... what are you doing here?" Was he robbing the place? Just toying with the punters before he blew the bar to kingdom come? Dammit dammit dammit! There's no way I can-

"I work here."

"...Really?" Yamcha was very aware that he was starting to edge away from the bar. The android had noticed too.

"Don't you want your drinks?"

"Why, what have you done to them?" he demanded, old habit of shouting rather than speaking when he was scared returning to him very quickly. 17 simply rolled his eyes and moved away to the other end of the bar.

A rather unsettled Yamcha quickly retrieved the drinks and walked away from the bar as quickly as he could without breaking into a run. What. The. Hell.

So Android 17 is working in a bar for demons. Faaaaaaaaantastic. He risked a look around and saw the dark haired cyborg staring right back, drying a glass like a bartender from a saloon. He gave the bandit a little wave before looking down below the bar-top and saying something to whoever the hell was behind it.

Yamcha simply spun back around and rushed back to the booth where Krillin, Piccolo and a leggy demon woman were holding a discussion. He slammed the drinks down, sat down in the corner next to Krillin and proceeded to have a tiny silent panic attack.

The other three seated around the table simply shrugged, then got back to business.

"So what your saying, Krillin, is that you are declining to agree to your side of the arrangement?"

"Well, uh, um..." he scratched behind his ears, blushing. She seemed very nice – asked how they were, made some small talk – but when he'd tried to say his bit, he saw her shoulders slump a little, and her smile fade. He never liked to make anyone unhappy if he could help it, especially women.

"Miss Majon, it's just that Master Roshi made the bet when he was drunk, I had no idea and didn't agree to anything. So I guess that kinda makes it... invalid...so..." Be brave Krillin, "I won't be taking part in it." He said firmly, sitting up straight. Piccolo raised an eyebrow at him.

To both of their surprise, the demoness started chuckling.

Oh that was never a good sign.

"You do realise that since that Roshi guy is you're Martial Arts Master, that he can palm you off to anyone he wants."

The small monk had an answer prepared for this notion.

"I retired from fighting earlier this year." He sat back and folded his arms. She looked at him curiously. Had he won this one? Yamcha was tugging on his sleeve. He waved him off.

"Okay. I can appreciate that. I can also appreciate that you want nothing to do with a girl like me –"

"Well I didn't mean it like th-"

"Of course you did. From what I can gather, any other woman who won you in a bet would have trouble getting rid of you. I come along (make a somewhat rash decision I know) and suddenly you have to decline..."

"It's not that, I'm sure you're a lovely woman! I've just got a problem with actually being won and owned! I mean why do you want a uh..."

"Pet boyfriend."

"Pet boyfriend anyway? You don't even know me and do you really think this is the adult way of solving your problems and... wait, what the hell is a pet boyfriend?"

The blue demoness shook her head, a sad smile reaching her lips. Silly man.

"I am well aware that this isn't the most sensible thing, but I'm afraid that you won't be able to decline. This is non-negotiable. Tell him Sir."

Piccolo frowned.

"Tell him what?" he growled.

"Oh of course, you don't have much dealings with the demon-folk any more, do you?"

He remained silent. Krillin simply looked between the two. What the hell was she talking about?

"A Demon Promise was made over it."

The monk blinked. "A what?"

His taller friend groaned and scowled. Genetic memory had told him about Demon Promises.

Majon turned to her overly confused 'victim'.

"You see my little man, as I'm sure you're friend here is well aware, a Demon Promise means everything. We're lying, cheating, back-stabbing immoral fiends, but when we make a promise we seal it with our blood, we are held to it and those who make the promise with us are held to it. You can huff and puff and blackmail and threaten and even get him to try and kill me if you like, in order to free yourself... but I'm sure you know the fate of those unreleased from a demon pact. It's not pretty." She smiled a thin-lipped smile that didn't quite show in her eyes, "They become cursed. Endure a painful natural death and then limbo, for all eternity. Harsh, but that's old demon magic for you. Superhappyfuntimes." She turned away from him towards Piccolo, "He's fucked if he doesn't comply... but I suppose he's fucked if he does... but the latter experience will be exponentially more enjoyable for him, I'm sure." (She grinned as Krillin choked on his drink, bright red)

"One of the main reasons that human-folk dislike we demons, is not just because we're malicious and destructive, but the fact that we're down-right messy to get involved with. Now, I know that I shouldn't have shaken on it. Promised. Made a pact, a vow, whatever you want to call it, I'll admit that was mostly my bad, because now I've trapped us both. As a demon I'm bound to my word, if I die with a broken pact under my belt, I share the same fate as you would, and quite frankly I don't want that. So I think we should give this a go, I mean it could be worse."(she winked at him) "I can't declare the promise fulfilled until it is... or I could get some magical help beyond my own ability... but I'm not going to. Because quite frankly, I don't give a flying fuck if you don't think this is fair. I'm sick of never getting my own way and working around other people." She stood up, knocking the chair beneath her over, "I'm a fucking demon for fuck's sake, I live to spread misery for my own selfish reasons, so suck it up and take it like a man! God, you'd think I was the fucking Demon King himself by the way your acting (no offense) and I don't like it, I AM A LOVELY. FUCKING. PERSON!"

She banged her hands on the table on that last sentence, scowling. In a split second Majon straightened up, moved her fringe out of her eyes and pulling her chair back up, she sat down quietly and serenely, smiling sweetly at the two men.

Piccolo's voiced appeared in the back of Krillin's head, The woman's clearly insane.

Oh Kami, she is isn't she? Absolutely freaking nuts...should...should I just run now?

Don't be an imbecile. She's insane, not stupid. She's completely right about the rules surrounding demon promises. You'll have to find a loophole. Or just go through with it.

"So you can't decline. Pack your bags shorty, I'll be seeing you on Monday."

"Krillin."

"Not now Yamcha." Came Piccolo's stern voice from across the table, "What do you mean, 'pack your bags'?"

"Well I only really come up here to check on the bar. I live in the Demon Realm most of the time."

As the monk made a small whimpering sound, Piccolo felt a flash of brilliance pop into his head. He had only really the vaguest grasp of the concept of couples and relationships, but he was going to try anyway.

"So you want him to live with you?"

"Mmmhmm." Majon looked decidedly comfortable now, leaning back in her chair, drinking her water.

"You want a complete stranger to live with you?"

"What's your point?"

Krillin looked up at the namek.

"I have a proposition for you."

"...go on."

"Give yourself about six months to get to know each other. Let the human adjust. Let you really know what you've gotten yourself into. I'm no expert, but it seems idiotic to throw yourselves together when you know nothing about each other."

Majon narrowed her eyes at him. The ex-demon king made a fair point. Gawd knows, maybe that's where I went wrong in the past. Too serious too soon...

Six months would be too long though.

"Two months."

"Three."

"Deal." She drained her glass and held out a hand, "He has three months to sort himself out and for us to get to know each other better. Then he's mine completely."

Piccolo did not take her hand.

Krillin was white as a sheet. He was still reeling from the exposition on what would happen to him if he tried to wheedle his way out. What was Piccolo thinking? Surely this was just prolonging the pain-oh.

Piccolo was buying him time.

Find a loophole Krillin. If there's a way to escape from anything Krillin, you're the one to find it.

Go Krillin go.

"Krillin." Majon's voice had taken on a sultry tone. She was smiling again, but this one was genuine. Boy was this woman confusing.

"It'll be fine. I'll see you next week. We've got a lot of catching up to do."

Getting up from her chair, the curvaceous demon woman turned to someone on her right and handed them a set of keys, mumbling something in another language. She turned back to three men sitting at the booth, beers hardly touched.

"I think first impressions are very important, don't you? I have to say, before I go, that I've picked up on something that you might want to work on. Krillin, you haven't as of yet, earned my respect. You've come across as quite cowardly. Hiding behind the Prince of Darkness is not an attractive trait. So I'll let you think about that." Her voice grew cold,"And let's not even get into the fact that I think you brought him along to intimidate me. I do not appreciate that at all. If you think you'll get anywhere with me if you flex your muscles and threaten...your sadly mistaken. I am not to be underestimated. Goodnight."

And with that, she spun on her heels and walked off, leaving the men rather speechless.

Yamcha was the first to say anything. "She thinks we were threatening her?"

More silence.

"Krillin. Now will you listen to me?"

"Oh I'm sorry Yamcha. Have I been ignoring you? I was just busy having my life turned upside down. Do go on!"

Piccolo's stern baritone sailed over the top of Krillin's slight hysterical burst.

"I suggest you calm down."

The shortest man sighed wearily. "I suggest we leave. I just want to go home and put my head in the oven."

"KRILLIN!" Yamcha grabbed him by his collar, "For Kami's sake, I've been trying to tell you all evening!"

"Tell me what?"

Most of the Rakshasa's clientele had left by the time 17 noticed Majon stalking away from the booth and towards a table close to the bar. Sitting at said table was a large group of rather surly looking demons. These were her bodyguards. Her bouncers, doormen, security guards and old friends who simply liked to cause trouble. If the android had understood the language in which she spoke to the group, he would have heard her say:

"Show them out. As roughly as you want."

His employer took one last look at the booth where her 'victims' were occupied with arguing amongst themselves, the dark-haired man shaking the smaller one, and strode out of the back door behind the bar.

17 turned to his twin sister, who was cleaning the bar-top.

"Let's put the bottles away, I sense a fight scene coming on."

hope that wasnt too horrendous. again, any reviews/constructive criticism are a great help.

xxx