Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long. I took a break over summer and then encountered several obstacles in writing and getting the next chapter out to you. The workload of my current University course being one such thing. But thanks for sticking with me guys. All my love. But I assure you, this fic will be finished. No matter what. I've had my heart broken by far too many abandoned fics.

So. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you all for all the reviews so far - I appreciate them all. As usual, any reviews, constructive criticisms, questions, anything - feel free to throw them at me. :D

Fools Fall In: Chapter 9

Do I attract you, do I repulse you
With my queasy smile?
Am I too dirty, am I too flirty?
Do I like what you like?
I can be wholesome
I can be loathesome
Guess I'm a little bit shy,
Why dont you like me, why dont you like me
Without making me try? - Grace Kelly, Mika

Krillin awoke from yet another annoyingly cryptic dream involving a psychology degree, Jessica Rabbit and malevolent slug. He didn't know why he was a white bunny in these dreams or why that little cephalopod glared at him so disparagingly with its antennae eyes. He usually woke up just as Jessica was flying away on the psychology degree certificate (which had by then grown a rather large nose) and he was being picked up by a little blue boy.
But everyone knows dreams are mostly bullshit anyway.
He looked at the clock. 8am. Urgh.

After a breakfast of whatever cereal the other occupants of Kame House hadn't eaten, Krillin made his way over to Goku's (or now as the case was, Chichi's) house. He helped out there sometimes, taking Chichi shopping for groceries, going on errands, opening jars; as was his only true duty as an adult male (despite the ability to transform into a super saiyan – Gohan was yet to master that ancient patriarchal rite). He didn't mind it, really, as previously he'd always been a little scared of Chichi. The woman was a force of nature. But now she was a little more sedate. A little softer with Gohan when it came to fighting and rest of it. More willing to accept the help they all had offered. And who was he not to offer?
If he hadn't….
He turned up the radio.

Chichi was already quite big for only being about 5 months gone, but by god that didn't slow her down. She practically floated around the kitchen, mopping and dispensing orders. Krillin readily complied. The most juvenile part of his brain told him that if he behaved himself he would get fed. Yaaaaay.
"Would that be okay then?"
"Sorry, what?" Krillin had been a little too preoccupied with whatever was in the pan he was stirring, hardly taking in what the woman was saying. She pushed her fringe out of her eyes and gestured towards her son who was outside washing the windows. They caught his eye and he grinned and waved.
"To take him out somewhere on Thursday? Just while I'm getting my check-up? I don't like him staying home by himself." Said Chichi, continuing her mopping.
Krillin nodded, "Sure, I always have time for Gohan. You going to be alright going by yourself?" He asked earnestly. The dark-haired woman wringed water out of the mop, an odd expression crossing her face for a moment.
"Piccolo's driving me and I'll be fine once I'm there."
"Oh okay. No problem. I was thinking of going to a baseball game anyway. We'll do that. I'll buy him a foam hand. 37 hotdogs. It'll be great."
Chichi gave a little smile. "Thank you." She said, and Krillin knew she meant it.
They worked in comfortable silence quite for a few minutes, until Krillin turned to her with a confused look.
"Piccolo is driving?"
"Loooong story."

One thing Krillin hadn't mentioned to Chichi about taking Gohan to a Baseball game was that it had previously been scheduled as another anti-date with Majon. He doubted she would appreciate her son being in such close proximity to a distinctly crazy demoness. She'd only just gotten over Piccolo. Barely.
Chichi's appointment wasn't until later on in the day anyway, so it looked like he'd have the kid for the whole day. Might as well put him to good use, maybe he could get him to help with the whole 'try and put her off having me as a pet boyfriend' plan. Tell her embarrassing stories. Or something. Anything.
At least the kid being there would maybe act as a barrier. Keep him concentrating on the goal. Ditch the demon.
Plus, Yamcha was playing, which meant free tickets. And guilt-free heckling.

They met her at the entrance. She was chewing gum, and flashed them a sharp-toothed smile. No dress or heels today, but ever that subtle hint of contained bunny-boiler. Gohan studied her as they walked over and quietly murmured to Krillin, with that odd look on his face that was far too old for him: "I see what you mean."

"Gohan, Majon. Majon, this is Gohan."
"Bonjourno sweetie pie." There was a glint in her eye as she shook the boy's hand that Gohan recognised – but couldn't quite place. "My, aren't you cute?"

"Run! Ruuuun!" Majon was almost out of her seat, screaming and flailing her paper cup of lemonade, spilling and splashing the contents everywhere. Gohan was cheering too and Krillin had to grab him and pull him back down to stop him actually taking off out of the seat. The man grinned as he looked at his young friend. It was great to see him so happy, the tired and pained air about him gone for fleeting and wonderful moments. He was healing. Slowly, but surely.

The blue woman beside him nudged him with her empty cup. "Do you think the writer has any idea what happens in a baseball game?"
"Well, the goalie has just scored a try on second base, so I'm gonna say no. Not a clue."
Gohan shook his head sadly, "Some people just don't care about the details."

...hey.

Anyway. The date was going well. Which was perhaps the opposite of what Krillin wanted. Gohan had attempted to regale Majon with stories of Krillin's stupidity and cowardice, but she'd only giggled and found them endearing. At one point, when Gohan had gone to the bathroom, Majon told Krillin how impressed she was at his taking Gohan under his wing, blushing and moving in closer to him. Uh oh. The child barrier had backfired. It was only making him more desirable. The single-father angle; that weird double standard. Bugger bugger. Wait. Was her hand on his leg?

Krillin mouthed silent praises to Dende as Gohan returned not a moment too soon and plonked himself directly between them. He'd buy him ice-cream for this.
And as luck would have it, very little else happened for the rest of the game.

"Are you sure we're allowed down here?" Asked the demoness as they made their way down to the field-side and the changing rooms after the match.
"This is the beauty of knowing one of the star players. Unlimited access."
"Who do you know?" Majon asked around the last morsel of hotdog. But her question was soon answered when a damp haired Yamcha appeared around the corner, grinning inanely over his team's victory. The ex-monk had pre-warned him about Majon being there. "Hey guys! How'd you enjoy the game?"
"Awesome Yamcha." Trilled Gohan, whilst Krillin rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, I especially loved the bit where you disappeared at first base and suddenly reappeared at 4th."
"I'm just very talented."
Majon laughed softly beside him, and he startled and blushed. There followed a somewhat awkward conversation involving reminding Majon who Yamcha was (oh yes, she'd said, she recognised him from the security tapes), more blushing accompanied by incredulous looks from Krillin and apologising for damage to the Rakshasa.

After a few minutes, Majon excused herself, which gave Krillin time to fill Yamcha in on what had happened. Gohan frowned a little at the retreating figure.
"… I mean I'm usually brilliant at scaring women off… but I seem to be doing something right here. Which I mean would be great but…"
Yamcha took a swig from his water bottle and raised an eyebrow, "but it's the wrong girl."
Krillin looked up; both Gohan and Yamcha were watching him with somewhat pitying expressions on their faces. Great.
But they were right. It was all going terribly right in all the wrong places. The woman sitting next to him, hand on his leg today should've been yellow haired and sarcastic. 18. Ha, if only.
He exhaled a rather melancholy sigh, an acquiescent smile playing on his lips, "Guys, this is driving me insane. I think I love her."

Around the corner, returning from the bathroom, Majon leant heavily on the wall, hand clasped over her chest. And she couldn't help but grin.

Majon had left soon after the game, as she'd had an appointment to keep. She'd call him soon.
When Krillin finally returned home, he found 18 in the kitchen. This worried him slightly.

"What are you doing," he asked, rather warily. 18 regarded him for a moment through a cloud of self-raising flour.
"As part of my therapy" (at this she shot him a look filling with unabashed disgust) "Che told me that I might like to try and find something I enjoy. Then whenever I get all, y' know, I can do that to take my mind off it."
"You mean a hobby. He recommended you get a hobby. Wow. This guy is truly top notch," said Krillin in a rather sarcastic tone.
"So," she went on, loudly, as if to block out his comment, "I chose baking."
He passed her a tub of margarine with a bemused look on his face. "You look… happy."
"It's working then."
The cyborg raised an eyebrow at him then looked back at the recipe book. Then at the scales, then at the flour, the book and back to the scales again. She then tipped the entire bag into the bowl with a PWOOMPF.
She looked oddly domestic and serene as she attempted to bake, and the calm she found in it lasted almost an hour until she managed to somehow set the icing sugar on fire.
"Do you want some help with that?" Krillin asked, prodding the blackened lump of what may have once been a sponge cake. 18 was stabbing at a baking tray; sprinkles and what may have been currants in her hair.

"! WHO EVEN LIKES CUPCAKES? 12 YEAR OLD GIRLS AND HIPSTERS! THAT'S WHO! -DAMN THEM! DAMN AAAAALLLLLL THE CUPACAKES!"

"…is that what you were making? Here, gimme that," he reached over and prised the spatula from her hands, "look its easy."
18 gave him an amused look and moved one of the bowls towards the dark-eyed man. He started stirring the contents, adding extra ingredients here and there. She held back a giggle as he winked at her, "watch and learn Blondie, watch and learn."

"Oof, you're so manly….here…put this apron on."

Soon they were sat in the kitchen with the smell of baking in the air and the burnt 'cupcakes' dumped in the rubbish; eating leftover icing with wooden spoons. They said little, enjoying the moment. She was comfortable and contented and, as 18 would later realise, oddly bemusingly, enjoying his company.

"I can make scones too."
"Badass." She smiled, his heart skipped a beat.
"Hells yeah." He grinned back, and her heart did something similar.
When she thought back to it she put it down, however, to her missing inhibitor. Most definitely not the puppy-dog eyed, lilac apron clad, fuzz-headed man beside her. Nope. Not at all.

"What about, "said Gohan after a couple of minutes, "we find someone to take your place? That could work… we find a guy who'd be willing to go with Majon instead of you. She can't find fault with that, surely?"
"That's genius, Gohan, how'd you come up with this stuff?" Said Yamcha, looking significantly happier.
Gohan looked at Bulma a little dejectedly, "People always forget that I'm clever."
"I feel your pain, Short Round."

It was the day after and they all lay on their backs on the grass outside of Capsule Corp, shielding their faces from the sunshine with hats and hands... It was a nice day, and after the rather conflicted nature of the day before, it was a welcomed break just to lie there and talk it all out.
"What about Trunks."
"Yamcha, I am not offering my friend's firstborn to a demon. Besides that only works in stories."
"No I mean, Big Trunks. Trunks from the Future, all sad-eyed and polite. She'd love him."
Bulma re-adjusted the infant lying on her chest and stomach. "How 'bout no."
"Stop trying to get rid of your ex-girlfriends bastard hybrid child dude, makes you look bitter."
"You're both dicks… sorry Gohan."
"It's fine. Piccolo swears a lot…. So does mom actually…. Usually around each other."
"Hey…What about Piccolo?"
About 6 and a half minutes later, after they'd all stopped laughing hysterically at the very idea of Piccolo and a woman/man/anything, the group of friends and baby all drifted off into their own minds – trying to see if they could think of someone they could palm Majon off to.
So far they seemed to be drawing blanks.

They were disturbed only when 17 sauntered out of the main building, fresh from a therapy session with that annoyingly pretty doctor, and decided he'd gate-crash their devious plan making forward slash brainstorming session.
"We think that if we can get someone to take Krillin's place as Majon's 'pet boyfriend', he may be saved. What do you think?" asked Gohan, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand, looking up at the bored looking youth looming over him.
"Yes," said Yamcha dryly, "Join us won't you?"
The android wiggled into a space on the grass between him and Krillin, rubbing his chin and narrowing his eyes. "Have we ruled out Piccolo? I know my sexuality files read 'error' with him, but I'm sure you could work around that."
"Nah, her type specifies a 'nice guy'."
"Mr. Piccolo is nice."
"Yeah, to you maybe. He always looks at me as if he's deciding whether or not to eat me." Bulma shuddered. Yamcha crossed his arms.
"I still think Trunks was a good idea. He's a teenager! From a post-apocalyptic world! If anyone needed the joys of boobs, it's that poor floppy-haired bastard."
"Bitter again."
"That lilac-haired dude?" 17 raised an eyebrow. "I don't think boob's are on his agenda."
"What's that supposed to mean."
"Oh, you'll find out eventually."

They pondered on it a while longer. Gohan made a little noise, as if unsure to voice the entire sentence. Then rolled over to face Yamcha.
"What about you?"
"Whut."
"You're single. Why not? You went out with Bulma, so Majon should-"
"Finish that sentence and I'll tell your mother you're doing drugs."
Krillin grinned inanely, "Yeah Yamcha, take one for the team."
"I can't. I've sworn off women since I had my heart broken."
"Oh shut up you big queen."
"You see? You see what I had to put up with?"

His shorter friend chuckled softly. Then he himself had a thought. "What about you 17? Fancy dating my hot blue owner?"
"Not particularly."
Gohan sat up, "Aw come on. She's not that bad. She's got quite nice boobs."
There was a particularly awkward moment as everyone turned to look at the half-saiyan, he blushed and lay back down. Bulma grimaced, "Oh god. It's begun."
"We're getting off topic. We have the next 6 or 7 years to deal with that. We have about 2 months to deal with this. Shall we?"

"Oh! Or! We could get her to fall in love with someone else – then she'd dump krillin!" Gohan lunged back up. Apparently he was on a roll today with the ideas.
"Nope. She's bound by the demon promise thingy too."
The blue haired woman chirped, passing her baby to the boy. "I dunno, I think he might be onto something there – what's that they say in all the movies? Love conquers everything?"
"You'd think that wouldn't you?"
"Bitter."

They sat there in the sun for what felt like the entire afternoon. Krillin repeatedly looking at his watch, only really half listening to Gohan's attempts to solve his problem. Bless him. The ex-monk turned to 17 who seemed to be half asleep, still nonchalantly lying in the middle of a group of people who'd been trying to kill him only a few months previously. He tried to sound casual.

"Where's 18?"
The android opened a cool eye, "She's in with the therapist."
"Again?" He rubbed his stubbly head.
"Sad brown eyes and romantic lead hair are the major reasons I think." Said the twin languorously.
"I don't think he's that attractive." Came Krillin's huffy reply. Bulma looked on, bemused. 17 continued, well aware of why the smaller man was so interested.
"He's dreamy. And he has a nose. A big nose."
"It's too big."
"You can't have too big."
"Yes you can, his is far too big. You can hurt someone with that."
"You're just jealous."
"Are you both still talking about noses?"

Dr. Castaña, after his fourth session with 17, was still in the process of trying to decide whether the youth was actually under the illusion he was a robot, simply trolling him, or actually was a robot. Or cyborg. Or something.
Life had been so much simpler before he'd gotten this job. At least the sister was simpler to deal with.
So much simpler.

18 wandered out of her therapy session late (14 minutes and 37 seconds according to Krillin's watch) smiling brightly, with a pink flush to her cheeks and a girlish bounce in her step. The monk noticed, fiddling conspicuously with the drinks can in his hand.
"What do they do in there?" he grumbled darkly.
"Make passionate and sticky love on the desk." Yawned Bulma (somewhat unhelpfully).
17 smirked.
"What do you look so pleased about?"
He simply smirked even harder.

Krillin watched 18 as she kicked he brother then sat down beside him, staring off into the blue summer sky.

Then it hit him. Like a truck. A ton of bricks. Like one of Goku's stray left hooks.

Gohan had seen many terrifying things over the course of his short life, but nothing disturbed his as deeply as the look that was now on Krillin's face. It was positively evil. He looked as if he'd been taking lessons from Vegeta. Gohan suspected that if Krillin had pulled this expression on Namek during their run in with Frieza – it would have been a much shorter battle. Yamcha had noticed it too.
"Oh god he's pulling his evil genius face."
Krillin stared off into the distance, muttering something about 'two birds', before turning around and wandering off towards the main building.

About 2 hours after leaving the Baseball stadium, Majon looked at the date on her phone. A few more weeks. Just a few more weeks and all of the worrying would be over. She'd take her charming little prize and take a long break in the farthest corner of the demon realm. Do up her home. Make it cosy. Settle him in.
But time was ticking away, making her more and more nervous. He would have to be told, before he figured it out. Before he looked at her with realisation and contempt in his eyes; realised why.
She was such a coward.
Why couldn't she just man up and be a demon about this? She didn't need to consider him at all. She could be cruel and heartless and…
Majon looked at the clock. Almost her turn.

There were only two other women in the room with her; both human, one blonde and one dark-haired. The woman with ebony hair intrigued her, sitting, reading a little cooking magazine she had propped on her baby bump. Had she seen this woman before? Her face looked familiar. Maybe she was famous? Nah, thought Majon. The demoness smiled to herself, the woman looked tired but content; unconsciously placing her hand on the swell of her belly.

It was probably lucky that Chichi hadn't noticed the demon woman staring intently at her. The last thing she needed was more paranoia over demons stealing her children. Again.

As she lay back on the cold clinical bed, Majon realised that she probably should have told him earlier, at the ball game. Que Ceras.

About 30 minutes or so later, she closed the door behind her and heaved a huge sigh. Why couldn't she just…
Everything was crumbling around her. She just wasn't… wasn't strong enough. Majon pulled the black and white ultrasound photograph out of her handbag, smiling sadly; she stroked her thumb gently over the blurry image.

yes. well. Insert dramatic riff to your own liking.
I hope you guys liked the chapter, and didn't see that coming a mile off. Again, any questions, theories, criticism of the constructive variety or anything at all - I appreciate all feedback.

Thanks for sticking with me so far guys. Next chapter should hopefully be soonish. xx