The next chapter - AT LAST. Sorry this one took me so long to write. I kinda work in stints of inspiration... and lack of History essays. But anyway.
Fools Fall In: Chapter 6
"Next thing- we're touching
You look at me
it's like you've hit me with lightning". - Ellie Goulding.
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Well then, thought Krillin as he made himself a cup of tea, what now?
Let's look at this logically. Point one: I have a limited amount of time to figure out how to escape becoming a demon-woman's pet boyfriend/chew toy.
Point two: I will have to spend this time hanging out with said demon woman; making small talk whilst plotting behind her back.
Point three: a cyborg woman of questionable reform, on whom I've also got perhaps the biggest and most pathetic crush on in the history of the entire universe, is now living with me. And so is her brother.
Point four: I cannot find the sugar.
Could've sworn there was sugar yesterday.
He raided the cupboards, but to no avail. Sugarless tea it was then. A wonderful way to start the day.
Krillin wandered drowsily into the living room and sat down, only to spot blankets strewn about the settee, cushions on the floor. Ah yes. The house guests. He took a gulp of the hot, bland tea. He hadn't seen either twin this morning. Had they left before he'd gotten up? Left without saying 'thanks' or 'see ya!', well, he decided, at least he should be content they hadn't set fire to the house–
"mrrrruuuh." A grumpy and dishevelled looking 18 stumbled through the living room.
Oh. My mistake.
He jumped up and followed her into the kitchen, knitting his eyebrows as he saw her paw at the fridge door in an attempt to find the handle. Geez, someone obviously wasn't a morning person.
It was so surreal, he thought, in the morning light, hair messy and the imprint of the pillow on her cheek; she looked just like any other person... so unabashedly alive.
"Morning." Said the monk, in a tone that sounded more like an apology than a greeting.
"Fnnneeehhh." Came the reply.
"Good sleep?"
No reply this time. Only a scowl as she opened the door and bent over to examine the contents of the fridge.
Krillin almost dropped his tea. "I urr...um... do you want some breakfast?"
"Mmmmhmm." Mumbled she; pulling out a tray of eggs and sliding them across the kitchen bench towards him. Her hair was untidy and last night's eye makeup had not yet seen the business end of a wet-wipe. She looked almost pathetic. Almost human.
"Incoherent noises are the best I'm gonna get from you this morning, aren't they?"
"Shut up."
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When he awoke that morning, he assumed he'd be more upset than he actually was. But here he was, having breakfast with (well, in the same room as, anyway) this beautiful bedraggled blonde. The sun was shining. He had yet to be murdered horribly. Not too shabby.
He watched 18 tuck strands of yellow hair behind her hear. She looked as if she'd slept very little. Had he cleaned the spare room recently? Or at least opened the window... let it air a bit...Bulma had once told him that sometimes the house smelt distinctly of well, bachelor... not that he could ever sm- wait who's boxer's was she wearing?
His entire face went scarlet. Oh god, change your train of thought Krillin before you implode.
"So where's your brother then?"
"17? No idea."
18 shovelled scrambled eggs into her mouth in a very unladylike manner; he had no idea that she actually ate at all. Guess that solved that question.
The smaller man put the kettle back on to boil, "I haven't seen him all morning... actually...come to think of it... I haven't seen Master Roshi or Oolong either. "
"He's probably burying the bodies then."
A look of horror arose in Krillin's face. She responded by rolling her eyes and demanded he get her some tomato sauce for the eggs.
Actually... where had her bloody brother gotten to? It wasn't like him to get up so early. He must have been gone for a while. Urgh, her lip curled in disgust, he'd probably gone to get another paddling pool. She stabbed at her breakfast. Krillin hurried for the sauce.
The small monk was more than a little relieved that he didn't have to deal with the brother this morning. Those piercing blue eyes just made him so uncomfortable... but in a different way to how 18's did. It was like they could see into the deep dark little recesses of his mind... and knew fine well what Krillin was doing to his sister in there.
Although the question now was where he was and indeed what was he was doing – Krillin didn't want to even hazard a guess.
A few moments later, he'd finished his tea. Looking up, he noticed that 18 was staring intently at his scalp, pulling a face Krillin couldn't quite read.
"What's with the head fuzz?"
"Oh this? I'm... well... I'm just leaving it be for now... dunno if I'll let it grow out or not."
"Looks like I could light a match with it."
He inclined his head towards her, and after a moment of wondering what he was doing, 18 got the hint and ran her fingers over the dark semi-opaque layer of hair.
"Oh it's soft."
"Papaya conditioner thank you very much."
There fell a comfortable silence as 18 seemed to be thoroughly entertained by the texture. Krillin was only dimly aware that this would perhaps look a little weird if her brother walked in; however he was much more concerned with the fact he had a beautiful woman caressing him... albeit in a fashion similar to one stroking a dog. I swear to god if I start kicking my leg...
She stopped suddenly and pushed his head away from her (and by extension – him) and rolled her eyes at him.
"Cute."
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A young man rolled sluggishly out of bed, the low and grating sound of his dog barking on and on awakening him from an annoyingly Freudian dream involving pineapples. Yawning, he pulled on his dressing gown and stomped downstairs to the kitchen where he found his overly large dog howling, yelping and scratching at the back door.
"Alright, alright. I'm coming you great big queen."
He threw open the door, saw the smouldering wreck of a van and turned, heading back to the fridge. He pulled out a carton of milk and took a generous swig.
"Wait."
He ran to the door. The burnt out skeleton of his previously stolen camper-van was plonked in the middle of his back yard, Moffat (the aforementioned pet) running in circles around it.
There was a piece of paper attached to it. A note.
It read: Told you we were only borrowing it. The bumpers a bit loose. Xx 17 & 18
"Son of a bitch."
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The android had turned up an hour after breakfast to find his sister and the small fuzz-haired monk engaged in a very awkward and one-sided conversation, primarily consisting of Krillin attempting to make small talk and 18 answering with blunt Yes, No or Ignore him completely answers.
Then she had spotted him. And the ash and motor oil that he was covered in.
"Where the hell have you been?"
17 dodged a bottle of tomato sauce.
"Where haven't I been?"
"Ugh. Whatever." And with that 17's twin stomped past him, up the stairs to presumably get dressed.
God he loved annoying her. Prodding and poking and getting under her skin until she snapped. He almost laughed at her temper. Krillin saw a brief flash of amusement in the other man's icy blue eyes, then an even more brief flash of something else. Affection maybe? It didn't matter.
The taller man simply sauntered over to the washing machine, took his filthy shirt off and threw it in before taking the seat 18 had vacated, lounging there, top off, like he owned the place. His focus entirely concentrated on the monk. There were those piercing eyes again. Krillin shook the unsettled feeling off. He moved towards the washing machine, then turned and held out his hand to the android, who looked at him blankly.
"Your bandanna is dirty too, pass it here and I'll throw it in the wash."
Pale as he was, Krillin noticed colour drain away from the other man's face. "No, its fine for now."
"Are you sure? Coz the colours won't run and-"
"I said no." 17 replied rather sharply. The tone of his usually emotionless voice told the monk it was better to leave it. He eyed the offending piece of orange fabric coolly.
"Okay bro, suit yourself."
So he put the washing machine on anyway and went about tidying the dirty dishes from the table. 17 piped up again as his sister re-entered the kitchen, dressed in last night's jeans and a blue t-shirt she'd dug up from the depths of the spare room.
"So what's the deal with you being at the Rashaka last night? You were talking to Majon; did you upset her or something?"
18 turned and looked at Krillin too, blank eyes boring into him – questioning.
The young monk raised an eyebrow, "Why do you want to know?"
"Let's call it ...bile fascination." The male android leant over the kitchen table toward him, resting his chin in his hands, staring intently with cold, dead eyes.
Krillin sighed and took a gulp of the now cooling tea. Urgh, how he enjoyed repeating this story; it never made any more sense to him each time he told it.
"There was an... incident involving Master Roshi –"
"That old man who lives here?"
"Um, yeah, and well he got drunk and well he lost me in a bet to Majon."
There was a silence. The siblings swapped looks. Krillin continued, somewhat pleased that his previous sentence wasn't followed by the hysterical laughter it seemed to usually attract.
"So I went last night to try and get out of being, you know, owned by her; only to find out I can't get out of it, I have three months to get to know her before I have to go live with her aaaaand she now thinks that because I brought Yamcha and Piccolo along that I was trying to intimidate her."
18 fiddled with her fingernails and seemed to be thinking about something. "What do you mean – own you?"
"Apparently my official title is 'Pet Boyfriend'."
17 looked at him blankly. "Why would that be a bad thing? You haven't had a girlfriend in about 4 years. "
Krillin gave him an incredulous look. "It's bad because I'm sure it goes against so many human rights laws, wasn't particularly my fault to begin with and how on earth do you know how long it's been since I've had a girlfriend?."
Both Androids simply tapped their foreheads, simultaneously saying "Files."
It took a moment for Krillin to register this. "W..wait... files? You have files on me?"
"Yes. We have files on everyone of importance in Son Goku's life. You. Your Master Roshi. Son Goku's wife and son. Some files are more elaborate... others... not so much... like the floaty-doll-guy."
"Yeah, what's he about?"
"What sort of information have you got on us?" He fidgeted with a plate. He did not like this at all. Obviously Gero had wanted to be thorough, but the idea that 18 had all of his most private information running through her head made him feel slightly sick.
The blonde woman shifted a little in her seat, but her brother answered the question with brutal honesty.
"Mostly things like family, date of births, relationships, sexual orientation, weaknesses, power levels. Stuff that could be used against you."
"Ah... wait... sexual orientation?"
"Oh yeah."
"Huh. Okay then... so if I asked you about – "
"Yeah he is."
"Really?"
"As the day is long."
"I KNEW it."
There was a silence as the small congregation tried to figure out what to say next. Krillin came up with something first.
"Can you delete the files?"
The blonde woman shook her head, explaining something about the information being uploaded directly into their minds. Attempting to delete or even replace files (now Gero was dead) would be too risky. And so what if she knew Goku's favourite colour was red? It made no real difference. The monk pondered this for a moment, before accepting it quite miserably.
18 regarded him. Did it make him uncomfortable? Her knowing things about him? To her, it just saved on meaningless conversations and misunderstandings. She was going to live with him for a while; it made sense to know him.
Ah but, came a voice, creeping up her spine and into the back of her mind, it's not knowing, it's having files. It's the reminder that you're not a real person. Humans don't have files ... that's why he's so uncomfortable.
How she hated that voice.
Krillin spoke up again. "So you guys worked for her right? How much do you know about her?" He asked hopefully, that silly smile plastered on his face as usual.
They both toyed with the idea of messing with him, telling him how terrifying and all-powerful this axe-crazy demoness was. Or even to get him to underestimate her... 'oh she's so nice! ', 'a model boss. Gives money to charity. Works with the homeless. Can stick both legs behind her head...'
But in the end, it was 17 who seemed to break first under the human's genuine smile. 18 smirked in amusement when she realised her brother had passed up an opportunity he usually wouldn't miss. How odd.
So they told him what they knew about her – which wasn't really very much. Majon, was quite a shrewd business woman. Affectionate to those she knew and was always in a pair of high heels. Was usually seen on the arm of her boyfriend, whom, according to 17 "reeked of being a dickhead", fawning and pretty much worshipping the ground he walked on.
"And I'm pretty sure she has connections with the Demon Mafia... or Yakuza... or whatever."
"There's no Demon Mafia."
"You say that now, but you wait 'til they check the camera's and see you stealing that money... then we'll see who wakes up with a horse's head on their pillow."
"Shut up."
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The rest of the morning past uneventfully; Krillin first explained the situation with the Androids to the other occupants of Kame House then he tidied whilst 17 raided the video collection and 18 sunbathed outside.
"Lets see: boring, boring, like, boring, haven't seen, saw first five minutes it's rubbish – what the...Strictly Ballroom? Why do you have Strictly Ballroom?"
"I...er..."
"This is going in the files, I hope you know."
"heeeyyyy there's noth-"
BRIIIIINNNNGGGGGG BBBRRRRRIIIIIIINNNNNGGGG
"Ah! Phone!"
"You can't hide from the truth forever." 17 called after him.
Hmph.
He picked up the phone. "Hello?"
"Bon journo Krillin sweetie." Came the spice-warm voice over the line.
17 looked up from a video cover when he heard the other man make a pathetic mewling sound. Like a kitten stuck in a cupboard.
"Majon! Er... I... urrr"
"Listen, I'd like to apologise for last night."
"I er - what?"
"Last night, things got a bit... carried away. To put it lightly. Are you okay?" she inquired, voiced dripping with honey. He stared at the receiver. She was giving off more mixed signals than a broken radio. How on earth did she function from day to day?
"Yeah I'm fine... no harm done."
"Your friends?"
"Alive and in one piece... um... what about your guys?"
"Ahhh they'll be fine. They're demons, they'll bounce right back. Apart from Iravan... he's not going to be able to bounce for a looooong time..."
"Oh. Sorry."
"Yeah well. It's their own fault, I asked them to rough you guys up a bit, not start a fight."
Krillin pulled a face at the phone. How is that any less bat-shit insane?
"But I digress; I meant to phone you to set a date for... Monday was it? I'm thinking a cafe of some description."
"That sounds nice."
And thus a date was made. Krillin felt slightly more comfortable now (despite some of the conversation's content), as something about both her tone was ...sincere.
On the other end, Majon was curled up on her sofa, curling the telephone wire between long feminine fingers. She could hear him relax. A good sign. Definitely a good sign.
"So it's a date then." She smiled to the receiver, "and Krillin, don't worry. It'll be fine."
"Sure... hang on two seconds...? "
It was then she heard a couple of background noises from the other end of the line, the bang of a door and mumbled conversation. Majon flinched as she heard the dulcet feminine voice from the other end. The barmaid was still there...she'd stayed the night.
"Hey again, look Majon I have to go – but Monday is a sure thing!"
"Looking forward to it!" she replied chirpily, but through clenched teeth, sounding more sinister than anything. He didn't seem to notice. Obviously his attention was elsewhere.
Goodbyes were exchanged and she hung up. Krillin put the phone down gently and went to sit on the settee; next to him, 17 was still investigating films and 18 had wandered in from outside to get a drink. He sat down quietly and let out a little sigh.
"Well that wasn't too bad."
"Your missing one very important point."
"What's that?"
"How did she get your number?"
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As if by magic later that day, the moment Krillin had picked up the phone to order a takeaway – Gohan wandered in through the front door. Years in dealing with the boy's father had led Krillin to believe that this sort of thing was never a coincidence. The child beamed at his friend when he automatically added about eight extra items to the order.
"I spoil you bro."
Gohan rushed over to the monk and breathlessly asked if he was okay.
"Mr. Piccolo told me what happened, and mom and I wanted to make sure you were alright!" his eyes seemed to skim over Krillin, checking for black eyes or bruises.
"I'm fine kiddo, fine. I think those demons got more than they were bargaining for – Piccolo saw to that..."
The boy rolled his eyes and smiled, sitting himself down on the settee; where he then promptly noticed the two androids awkwardly loitering in the kitchen. "Hey guys!"
They mumbled hello's back. Quietly, 18 turned to her brother: "Why's he like that? So annoyingly...nice. It's infuriating."
"£50 zeni says he cracks before he's 20 and destroys the universe."
"You're on."
Krillin leant over the back of the settee, "Wait, Chichi wanted to make sure I was alright?"
"Um, yeah, I kinda told her about what happened..."
"She laughed didn't she?"
"...yeah she did."
"Of course she did. How is she anyway? Coping ok?"
Gohan shrugged, "She's alright. I mean we're both kind of..." he trailed off. His shoulders slumped a little. Krillin was about to say something when 18 appeared at the doorway, an eyebrow raised.
"What's wrong with her?"
"Um," said the boy, "She's pregnant."
"Oh. Eww." And with that she walked past them and went outside. Gohan turned to look at Krillen, a hint of smug knowing in his smile. His older friend blushed, "Oh shut up."
"I didn't say anything!"
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Lounging in a deckchair outside, 18 watched the sea and sunset; one hand resting on the armrest, the over picking up handfuls of warm sand and letting it run through her fingers. The tide was high and the air was starting to get cold. It perturbed her how much she felt the chill.
She wondered where she would go from here. 17 was fine. He could function without any real direction. The uncertainty was not... comfortable to her. So she was here. Living here with that silly smiling little human... Krillin.
It was comfortable here; the pig and the old man had left her alone for the most part. Krillin had not bothered her much, she could tell he was trying not to annoy her... maybe he was still scared of her?
He should be.
Shouldn't he?
Yes – she was an android, she was supposed to be his enemy... everyone's enemy. First and foremost. Regardless of what had happened those five months ago. Cell. That insignificant kiss. The wish.
Urgh. That wish! She'd never felt the same after that damn thing. It wasn't as if she'd ever felt the bomb there to begin with... but once it was gone... something... changed. She couldn't place it.
Maybe it was freedom.
Maybe it was lack of purpose.
Maybe it was him... treating her and her brother like they were... human. The cyborg woman 'hmphed' quietly. I didn't think I'd ever see him again.
18 ran her fingers through her hair and crossed her legs, taking in the colours of the setting sun. Out in the distance she noticed the silhouette of a vehicle of some description getting larger. That'll be the food, she mused. Time to go back in.
She stood and brushed off sand from her clothes. I wonder where I'll go from here.
18 found everyone in the kitchen, Gohan nattering away to a rather bemused looking 17 about Namek, with Krillin chipping in every so often, Oolong and Roshi rolling their eyes at the story they'd heard before. However the attention of their eyes was swiftly hijacked by the attractive blonde woman leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over her chest. "I think the food's here."
"Oolong, can you?"
"Hell no, do it yourself." A cup bounced off the pig's skull. "Fine! Fine! But I'm spittin' in yours fuzz-head."
Gohan giggled. Krillin just sighed, and then inquired about drinks. Water. Juice. Pop. Tea...?
"Juice please!"
"Throw a beer my way."
"My sister and I will be having Motor oil – ow! No hitting!"
18 scowled. "Make mine a coffee."
Krillin nodded. "Milk?"
"No, I like my coffee black. Like my men." Replied the android; deadpan.
Krillin turned to look at her. Her face was completely expressionless – but her eyes, oh her eyes. They had a spark in them he hadn't noticed before. Humour and...life.
He smiled. And she smiled too.
And then Gohan asked him to explain the joke.
kay. hope you guys liked it. I always think the middle-parts of stories are the hardest to write... but yeah. So yet again any comments or constructive criticism is well-recieved. Questions, observations - fire away.
Hopefully I'll get chapter 7 out by the end of December... hopefully.
Laters! :D