Hello guys! Sorry about the wait - apparently it's difficult to become a teacher and write fanfiction at the same time. Anyhoo - Thanks for sticking with me. Hope you liked the amazingly original (cough cough) twist in last chapter.
Also, seriously, if anyone wants to throw some reviews, constructive criticisms, questions, anything - go for it. Throw me a message or a review.

Chapter 10: also entitled Super Massive Black Hole

You know that I would love to see you next year
I hope that I am still alive next year
You know that I would love to see you in that dress
I hope that I will live to see you undressed – Maximo park/Mark Ronson

"Thursday 17th August

Patient Eighteen is what we call, in medical journals, a mystery. Despite knowing the background from my employer on both her and her sibling (twin, male, fraternal), I have yet to gain a great understanding of her.

After numerous sessions with Eighteen (18?) there has however been a small amount of progress made with her emotional stability. From our first sessions, I could see that she was struggling with her sense of identity which, coupled with her emotional needs being somewhat stunted, (brought on, as I have been told, by technological means) was potentially hazardous – especially in regards to the patients violent background.
I have faith that the plan of action I have decided on will help her come to terms with her newly returning emotions and bring her peace and stability. Her issues with a lacking identity must first be tackled before we can use this momentum to support her emotional needs. "
Ché stopped writing for a moment, thinking back to that morning's session with the blonde android.

18 turned away from the Psychiatrist to look out onto the Capsule Corp grounds as she sat on the windowsill. "A name?"
"Yes," said the doctor softly, twirling his pen through his fingers. Green eyes beaming over glasses, "I want you to give yourself a name. Anything you want – whatever feels right. The we can see if that helps."
The blonde exhaled on the window and made a mark with her finger on the foggy pane. Thinking.
"And if nothing feels right?"
Ché chuckled lightly, "Then we don't need to find one right away. You never know – it might come to you when you least expect it," he answered back.
But she didn't seem to be listening anymore.

Out on the grass, 18 picked apart a small flower and let the petals float off in the breeze. She wondered where Krillin had scuttled off to.
"Can you remember anything at all?"
18 rolled her eyes. This question again. He never gave up did he? Everything needed a place, a source. A title. Why couldn't he leave it be? What did it matter, she mused, if she didn't know her name? If she didn't know where she came from, if there was a family out there more than that idiot she called a brother.
18 didn't have the answers and neither did anyone else. She hardly remembered even the laboratory, except in dreams. Everything else was… further away. Everything that ever came to her came in dreams; lucid and fragmented images, smells and sounds. Laughing. Perfume. And blue, blue eyes. A song on the radio would spark a fire in her brain that told her that she once kissed a boy to that song, or the smell of cake would conjure a smoky image of a small and short haired version of her brother wearing a superhero shirt, grinning and icing covered.
She didn't like the question Ché posed – it made her think and yearn. Prodded at an ache that she could never fill with the past; raw and hushed.
Yes. She could, in a way, remember bits. Pieces. But what did it matter? What did it matter now.
She was 18 and that was that. That was all she had and all she needed. She traced the number in the misty pane of glass. After all, it was about who she would become, not who she once was.

There was a knock at the door and Ché looked up from the computer keyboard, with a friendly "come in!" My god was he insufferable. So happy and charming. Look at him, all befuddled romcom leading man, whilst he was standing there in the doorway all short and noseless and stubble-headed. Hmph.
"Can I help you?"
"I need to talk to you it's very important and urgent and important."
Ché straightened his tie, a little flustered and Krillin simply smiled in a nonchalant fashion. That was until he noticed something that hadn't been there the last time he was in the room. He tried to appear casual.
"A new desk?"
Ché nodded, and the other man couldn't help but notice that his ears had gone a darker shade of pink. "Um, yes. The old one, um, broke."
The old desk was lying in a pile in the corner, looking as if it had gotten into a fight with a very angry sledgehammer and lost.
Krillin died a little inside.

"So, what can I help you with?" asked the therapist following Krillin's gaze to the desk, "Is it something to do with 18? Or Fernando?"
"Uh, no its …..Fernando?"
"Long story."
"….Right. So. Yeah. The thing is.." Krillin fell silent, he hadn't really thought of how to say this. What to ask. What would he say? Ché looked at him expectantly, then spotted someone behind the monk and waved. Krillin turned to see Bulma at the door, obviously having gotten far too curious to leave him to his evil plot. They made eye contact and suddenly he was struck with brilliance.
"It's my friend," he turned back to Ché, "I'm worried about her. We both are, aren't we Bulma?"
"Eh?," then she caught a pointed look from him, "Oh. Oh yes! So very worried." His friend caught on to his cunning plan within a matter of moments. Krillin was going to try and get Majon to A) meet Ché, B) fall head over heels (and tail) in love with him, and C) leave Krillin alone.
Then they lied. Lied through their teeth. Together, as a unit, Bulma and Krillin managed to persuade the young Therapist that their mutual bestie bro-ette Majon needed some emotional support after a messy breakup. They needed a professional to talk to her, but in a non-formal environment, so she'd be more receptive. Maybe at a nice café? Or something like that. It was a seamless BFF lie.
"She's a demon. And you know how awesome that will look on your CV."
"I don't know…."
"Of course, I understand if you're uncomfortable venturing away from Capsule Corp business. I could always do with your expertise with Vege—"
"I'd be happy to help your friend."
"Thought so."

As they wandered back to the group out on the lawn, Bulma pulled Krillin aside. "Are you sure you know what you're doing? I mean… how on earth are you going to get her to agree with that?"
"I'll just turn on the charm."
Krillin was more than a little insulted by the face she pulled. But she had a point. What the hell was he going to do now? How was he going to get Majon to agree to meet Ché, and even then, how could he get them to fall in love? I mean I don't really need to get Dr. Sparklepants to fall in love with her…. I just need her to divert her attention…..
"What now Krillin?"
"We make them fall in love."
"Make them?"
"Persuade them."
"Because love conquers everything right?"
"Right."
They continued on until Bulma placed a hand on his shoulder, "Wait. What about the code of conduct. You know, therapy ethics…. They can't date if she's a patient."
"She's a demon, she doesn't care?"
Bulma giggled. "Not a single fuck given? What about him?"
Krillin was feeling jolly, and he grinned up at his friend, "how many fucks can he give, really?"
"Let's ask 18." Snorted the blue –haired woman as she sauntered away to re-join the group on the grass. Krillin scrunched up his face. "Not cool, woman. Not cool."

Majon was a little shocked to say the least.
"A Psychiatrist?"
"A Therapist."
She looked unconvinced. They sat in the rather bijou café where their first anti-date had first occurred, ice-cream on the table in front of them. It had been a less than a week after the baseball game. Majon was planning her next move when he'd blindsided her with this proposition.
"Not that I'm saying that you're crazy or anything. Or that I think you need pro-I just mean as in…. for closure."
"Closure?" She repeated tersely.
Krillin took a deep breath, "I just think that maybe you're haven't got any closure from you're previous relationship and now suddenly we're rushing into this…"
We said her brain. He said we.
"... and I don't think it's a particularly healthy place to start from, and, and," this was the clincher, god I hope this works, "I wouldn't feel particularly comfortable with you still being hung up on your ex."
Majon's eyes widened momentarily and a blush of purple swept across her face. "Oh." There was a silence. She appeared to be deep in thought.
"I suppose you have a point. I mean claiming a pet boyfriend doesn't exactly scream of a healthy reaction to getting dumped."
Krillin's heart skipped a beat. This could work. He work get them together – intimate setting, they'd talk, therapy guy would be supportive and charming and inexplicably handsome with that nose of his and she'd fall in love with him (and if he loved her back, then mazel tov to the both of them) and then freedom and no more demons discombobulating his life up and-
Hang on. This relies on a fair amount of luck.
Buggery.
"So you know someone huh?"
"Um yeah. Top quality too. Works for Capsule Corp."
"Wha- really? The Briefs woman?"
Krillin giggled internally "….yyyyeeeahhhh. She's messed up. The guy got her over a messy breakup with that baseballer boyfriend she had. She was going to set fire to his house, eat his cat, tried to get pregnant. Then there was the murder suicide bid. It was all a great big mess really."
"And he fixed that?"
"As much as he could. She was too far gone really. Anti-psychotic medication and everything."
"Wow you wouldn't think it when you see her on TV."
"That's how good he is."

After about another half an hour of persuasion, Majon had finally agreed to meet this psychiatrist/therapist/whatever. It would probably be good for her, she pondered. Get her good-for-nothing ex relegated to the past once and for all – concentrate on the future.
Oh god the future. That.
She most definitely needed to get that off her chest before she imploded. And if she needed to talk to a professional (if for only the reason of figuring out how to tell her pet boyfriend) about it, then that's what she would do. She'd get sorted. Organised. Back at 100%. The Rakshasa was being refurbished, Krillin looked like he was coming around to the idea of being with her and… and, well… she was going to be a mommy.
Majon picked up her bag and put on her sunglasses holding Dr. Castaña's number in her hand; time to go. Krillin stood up, smiling, "I guarantee you won't regret this."
She smiled that bright white grin of hers and said goodbye, see you later and I'll let you know how it goes.
"Oh, and Krillin."
"mmm?"
"If you ever even slightly suggest that I'm crazy again, bear in mind I don't need you with all four limbs."
With that, she left.
Aaaand we're back to crazy again, thought Krillin.

"Well I thought it was genius."
"That's because you're an idiot."
"Oh I'm the idiot? Who needed my help to put up a crib?"
Piccolo glared at him over the instructions as Gohan tried to supress a giggle. Krillin clicked the back onto the baby monitor and flipped the switch, a low buzz signalling that he'd put the batteries in the right way around. "Testing. Pineapple mint marshmallow. Oh baby baby it's a wild world, and it's hard to get by just on a sm—"
"YES KRILLIN ITS WORKING THANKS." Came Chichi's voice from the other end.
He then turned his attention to the pile of wood and screws on the floor, all laid out neatly, mirroring the image on the instructions. He'd been called over by Chichi to aid Gohan and Piccolo in their frankly quite pathetic attempts at constructing a crib ready for the baby.

Unable to use Gohan's old crib (damaged beyond repair by now), Chichi had charged them with being useful. It hadn't really worked. But anyway, what was more interesting was the fact that Krillin had turned up with a girl in tow. A girl looking horribly out of her comfort zone. Hmm.

"Do you think he knows he left it on?" asked 18 as she sat at kitchen table. Chichi was raiding the fridge for dinner, she looked around the door at the baby monitor lying on the table.
"Probably not."

"DON'T MOVE THE PIECES!"
"IT DOESN'T MATTER. GOHAN PASS ME THAT-"
"OF COURSE IT MATTERS, THE INSTRUCTIONS—"
"NOBODY USES THE INSTRUCTIONS PICCOLO. YOU JUST GUESS."

"I could've put it together myself but this is much more fun"
18 regarded the other woman. This was really the first time they'd met. Of course she already had files on her, Goku's wife, no medical issues, formerly Chichi Ox, quite a formidable fighter in her own right. She seemed nice enough. Krillin had already warned 18 about Chichi being somewhat… what was the word he had used? Fiery.
After half an hour in her house (again) and in her company, 18 was starting to feel slightly guilty over the stolen clothes from a few months ago.
"So Gohan tells me you've been living with Krillin."
"Hmm? Oh, yeah."
"Goku and I didn't live together until we got married." Said the older woman rather casually, pouring boiling water into cups. 18 was about to protest when the monitor buzzed into life again.

"WHATS THAT? WHERE DID THAT COME FROM? DOES THAT ATTACH TO ANYTHING?"
"NAHHH IT'LL BE FINE. THERE'S ALWAYS SOMETHING LEFTOVER. IT'S ALMOST NEVER ANYTHING IMPORTANT."
"IT LOOKS IMPORTANT."
"I CANT BELIEVE THIS IS HOW I'M SPENDING MY TIME." Came a resigned sounding voice; Piccolo.
The response came from his Gohan, "BECAUSE YOU'RE USUALLY SO BUSY?" There was an uncomfortable silence. 18 raised her eyebrows and murmured something about 'living on the edge'. The boy's mother stirred the drinks she had made and placed them on the table, eying the monitor, "a teenager and a baby. This is going to be fun."
"I'M NOT GOING TO LIKE YOU OVER THE NEXT FEW YEARS AM I?"
"SORRY SIR"

Chichi pulled up a chair to the table and sat opposite the other woman, regarding her with a wry expression that 18 couldn't gauge. It made her slightly uncomfortable, to say the least.
"Why Krillin?"
"What?"
"How come you ended up staying with Krillin. On that island. Feminist haven that it is."
18 looked at her as if she were speaking a different language, "My van blew up. I needed a place to stay. Krillin was there…. What? What? Why are you looking at me like that."
Chichi simply smiled and took a drink of her tea. From what she could gauge so far, from what she'd heard from Gohan, Krillin and Bulma(and even Piccolo had mentioned it, in that odd fashion of his that she assumed was him trying to make an effort with her), she decided that she might like 18 when she met her. And thus far she hadn't been dissuaded otherwise; the girl was no-nonsense, bluntly truthful and somewhat mysterious. Genuine. Yes, thought Chichi, so far, she liked 18. If of course you discounted the whole, designed to murder her husband thing, but that didn't really matter anymore…
The real mystery, however, was why on earth this girl had attached herself to Krillin. Krillin, of all people. Not that he was a bad person or anything, in all honesty he seemed the most hard-working and together member of Goku's motley crew – but Chichi knew he was certainly no lady-killer. And the blonde, blue-eyed gorgeous little thing that sat opposite her was not….who she'd envision opposite the man.
So she took it upon herself to investigate. And 18 was subjected to question-laden meddling/conversation for the next half hour as the boys in the next room struggled in vain to construct the cot. How old are you? How exactly did your van get destroyed? What do you think of Krillin's 'hair' (if we can call it that yet)?
"It's…interesting. My files have nothing on him with hair…"
"We've never seen it either. The only time we came close was that time he tried to grow a beard…. But anyway, it might be good for him. Making a change."

"DO YOU THINK 18 AND MOM ARE GETTING ON WITH EACH OTHER OKAY?"
Their attention was drawn away by Gohan's voice crackling on the monitor. A deep base voice replied, "THERE HASN'T BEEN ANY LOUD SMASHING NOISES, SCREAMING OR EXPLOSIONS. I THINK THEY'RE FINE."
"I LIKE 18. HER BROTHER IS WEIRD THOUGH."
"I SECOND THAT OPINION." Came Krillin's voice.
"YOU WOULD." The boy giggled.
"HUH?"
"HAVE YOU TOLD HER YOU WANT HER TO HAVE YOUR BABIES YET?"
"HEH."
"HMPH. I SHOULD NOT BE TAKING THIS FROM A 13 YEAR OLD. BESIDES, I AM FAR TOO PREOCCUPIED WITH THE WHOLE MAJON THING AT THE MOMENT. AND NO! I HAVENT... I DON'T…GAH!"

Chichi cleared her throat loudly and got up to refill the kettle, giving 18 a moment or two to peel her hands from her face and turn a shade a little paler than scarlet. Time to change the subject.
"Do you know what's going on with that Demon woman?"
All the android wanted to do was take the monitor and beat Krillin to death with it, but she refrained for the moment. Stupid faced little-god! How the hell did she even get herself into this weird parallel dimension full of puppy-dog eyed monks and meddling housewives and those damn plot devices that belonged in crappy romantic comedies. Deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. She'd beat him to death later.
"The crazy one?"
"So I've heard."
So 18 explained all she knew. Which was quite little at the moment, especially considering that she had no idea of Krillin's cunning plan. Chichi nodded along, shaking her head at intervals exclaiming that there was something fishy about that woman, and then – then, thought 18, as her stomach did a weird sort of dance in her belly (where was that damn inhibitor when you needed it?), asked her how she felt about it.
Why should she feel anything about it? It was Krillin's problem. His mistake. If he had some admittedly gorgeous bunny-boiler haranguing him, what was it to her? Sure, she took issue with the fact that Krillin had no choice in the matter, or with the fact that he spent most of his time with a vague air of worry about him. That Majon and her demon promise were making that idiotic (infectious) grin of his less and less common. And that if he didn't figure out a way of escaping the promise he might end up leaving her and stuck in the Demon Realm forever probably. What use was he ther-
"Leaving who?"
"Huh?"
The dark-haired woman simply smiled. Shook her head and said it didn't matter. 18 took a sip of her drink. Leave me.
Now where did that come from?

All systems were go. It was zero hour. Majon and Therapy-guy were about to meet and soon Krillin would be freeeeeeeeeee.
He hoped.
As he sat and observed from across the other side of the canal, Krillin mused that bringing a man who'd only had one girlfriend and had previously been completed terrified of women and a teenage boy were not the best partners in this 'romantic situation manufacturing' endeavour. But since his other options were Roshi, Oolong, Piccolo and Tien – Yamcha and Gohan were definitely the way to go. The meeting had been set up quite close to Caspule Corp, along the banks of the city's canal, beautiful on a sunny day and the ideal place for a romantic rendezvous. Or so the guidebook said. They watched, sneakily, bated breath as the demoness, in another of her cerise summer dresses was greeted by Dr. Castaña, clad in a green shirt and jeans (how unprofessional. Fantasic) holding a notebook and smiling that pretty boy smile of his. They sat down on the nearest bench, conversing. Phase one – complete. This could actually work –no – this was going to work – no – it wasn't – he was going to have to live in the Demon Realm and –no be positive – oh god why, Roshi, why?

Yamcha was the first to break the silence. "So, what do we do?"
Both he and Gohan stared at the monk expectantly, and he noticed that their hairstyles had finally coincided with one another. A follicular eclipse, if you will. It was weird he'd never noticed this before. Still, bets were still on as to whether or not Gohan would end up dying his hair green or shaving it off completely – to go with the purple gi. Krillin shook the thought from his head.
"We set the mood."
"How?"
"What?"
"How do we set the mood? Candles? Lighting? Music? I mean they're over there discussing her craziness and ex-boyfriend trouble. That's not first date material."
Gohan nodded along. They were both still looking at Krillin, waiting for a snippet of inspiration. Maybe he should have brought Piccolo along; he was the man with the plan. Well, in most cases anyway.
"I….um…. I don't know. "
"You didn't get that far in your plan did you?" Krillin shook his head dumbly. Yamcha threw up his hands in despair.
"Shit."
"Oh, hey, what about Dragonballs?" He then ventured.
"What do you mean?" asked Krillin, scratching his fuzz-covered head.
"I mean we could wish them to fall in lov—"
"No."
"Why. It's not… cheating."
"It's… unethical. And kind of…well…. Un-consensual." Krillin mumbled, half under his breath. His friend sat down on the grass next to him with a sigh.
"And her winning you in a bet is?"
"Can we not…"
"Fine, fine." They sat silently for a moment.
"Yamcha?"
"Krillin."
"Where's Gohan?"
…..

Neither Ché nor Majon noticed a blonde youth in a hoodie sit down at the base of a tree a few feet away from them.

…

"I can see they're talking." Krillin squinted and held a hand out to shield his eyes from the sun, "I can't tell what abou- oo! Oo! She's laughing!"
"We really can't do anything about this can we? We're going to have to let it unfold naturally."
"Like hell we are. Maybe we can go over and spill orange juice on them both so he has to invite her back to his apartment… or, or we get someone to come onto her and he can step in…. No, ooo or they eat spaghetti and-"
"Dude. Stop. You've exhausted every cliché known to modern cinema."
"Well you think of something then!"

…..

Majon had to admit, once they'd gotten started, she was quite happy she'd agreed to this. Dr. Castaña was a fantastic listener (all part of the job, she supposed), made thoughtful comments and boy was he nice to look at.
They started chatting, about unimportant things at first. The weather, jobs, any pets?("one," he said, "a dog called Moffat. Look here's a photo") Any siblings? Ché had four sisters, big family, quite close. What about you, Majon? What's your family like?
He had a way of drawing information out of her without her realising, and eventually, everything just started pouring out. Her long list of fuckwit exes, emotional leeches and lying bastards came spewing forth like word vomit. The good doctor just nodded and listened and eventually talked back. Discussed. A voice of clarity and reason.
It felt good to get it all off her chest… it was odd, she thought… that she didn't feel that she could say all of this to Krillin… maybe they weren't quite there yet… she didn't really want to scare him any more than he already was….she could, if she really wanted.
The demoness shifted in her seat, "what about you?"
Ché stopped for a moment and gave her a look she couldn't quite read. Majon continued, "Any advice from personal experience?"
The Therapist gave out a rather bitter sounding laugh, "I wish. No. No advice from my own experience… just as messed up as everyone else's."
"Do I detect a hint of something still being kinda raw?"
The young man stared out over the water of the canal. "The usual story. Fell in love. They run off. I get to keep the dog at least. Everything hurts and then bam – right out of the blue… someone walks right into your life and its rainbows and sunshine and…" he trailed off, a blush coming to his cheeks. Majon tucked a stray wisp of white hair behind her ear, sounds about right.
Well… no rainbows and sunshine yet…. But soon….I think.
And thus they continued, barely noticing the soundtrack drifting over to them on the afternoon air, apart from the odd "I love this song." "Where is that music coming from… oh… I reckon it's that kid over there." The only silence between the two fell when they both noticed that the music coming from the sullen youth nearby, hood pulled up obscuring his face, was oddly… romantic in nature and now included what may have been "Kiss the girl." How odd.

Yamcha and Krillin had mutually decided that the fact the two 'lovebirds' were chatting away like no tomorrow and had, over the course of the past couple of hours, moved closer and closer together on the bench, was a good sign. And that they should probably go home. Also it was starting to get cold.
Krillin could barely hide the grin as he could see that the two showed no signs of noticing this or ending their meeting. Oh my god this might actually be working.He had figured out Gohan's position about an hour ago and signalled the boy to come back over.

"I tried, sorry I couldn't think of anything better to do."
"Don't worry about it bro, at least you did something…. Anyway… did it look like they we're getting on okay?"
"It looked pretty good from where I was sitting. I mean I couldn't hear everything… but I did catch bits and pieces. I think he might already be in love with someone though."
Krillin flinched. Damn, damn, damn. He had to move fast if he was going to make this work.
"Oooh but, she did that laugh thing that Bulma's mom does when she's flirting."
"When isn't Bunny flirting?"
"Shush, what do you mean."
"Laughing really hard when a joke isn't even that funny. That's a thing, right?"
"That's a thing, Gohan. That's a thing."
Oh yeah. This was going work just fine. And with that, they all went home, leaving Majon and Ché to talk on.
What Gohan had missed, however, was when Majon had begun to talk about her pregnancy – which, in hindsight, might have been rather handy for him to know.

Krillin was still happily basking in the joy of his success in matchmaking, cot building and having a conversation with 18 for more than half an hour without saying or doing anything horrifically embarrassing (although she was looking at him as if he had said something… and she wanted to hurt him about it) when there was a knock at his bedroom window.
Krillin sat up on his bed and listened. Surely that wasn't-
TAP TAP
No, yeah, definitely was. Ack, if Gohan had sneaked out again he was going to… well… there wasn't much he could actually do to Gohan. Tell on him. Probably. Or not. Just let him in and….
He flung open the curtains and opened the window, only to be greeted with a pair of startling yellow eyes.
"Majon?"
"Bonjourno, sweetie."
"How? What? Why are you?"
"Can I come in?" she asked rather breathlessly. Not waiting for his answer she clambered in feet first, wiggling to get her sizable hips and eventually, wings in. Krillin, standing in a t-shirt and underwear, was still a little dumbfounded as to what she was doing in his room in the middle of the night.
He hadn't long to find out.
Kneeling, she grabbed the front of his t-shirt and pulled him forward. She bit her lip, smiled and stated, "Krillin. I really, really like you." Before planting a kiss full on the lips and shoving her hand down the front of his boxers.

"Uh oh."

yes well. Um. Hope you guys like this chapter. Took me FOREVER to write... but totally worth it. Quite happy with that. Apart from the fact I have a joke I've been dying to use since I thought of the fic and havent been able to wrangle it in yet... soooooon tho. soooooon.
But anyway. Please, send me reviews, constructive criticism, questions, theories. I love them.
Thanks, and see you soon (hopefully ;D)