Thanks to everyone who reviewed my first chapter. This chapter may have a slightly different
"feel' to it, but hopefully you will like it as well. Just to remind you that in my story Dragonball GT never happened,
and that since It's my story I can do anything I damn well please with it. So there.
Disclaimer: I don't
own anyone or anything so please don't sue me.
Son Gohan gently shut the door to his daughter's room behind
him. She had finally gone to sleep, and
he did not want to wake her up. As he
walked to the kitchen it occurred to him that she probably hadn't had anything
to eat since the night before, so he immediately began pulling out the
ingredients for French toast. He could
save the leftovers in the fridge until his little girl woke up. He stopped mid-stride and shook his
head. She still was and would always be
his little girl, even if she was an adult in every sense of the word. She was a strong woman, a fighter, almost a
force of nature. But when she had cried
herself to sleep in his arms a short time ago, he had only been able to see a
toddler in an orange bandana. And he
hated that he couldn't protect her from all bad in the world.
But If anyone could combat the darkness in the world, it was
that girl.
Suddenly, his cell phones shrill chiming startled him, and
he almost dropped the six cartons of eggs he was holding. He carefully placed then on the counter and
pulled the phone out of his back pocket as he closed the refrigerator door with
his foot.
"Konichi-wa…… this is Son……... yes she's fine. She's a tough kid, she can handle…..….. do
you think it's really necessary?……….Isn't there any other way? ……………. I
understand. Thank you again Ryan. See you soon."
He thoughtfully pushed the end button, and tapped the short
antenna on his chin a few times before putting it on the counter and grabbing
the biggest steel bowl he could find.
A few hours later, Pan yawned and tripped into the kitchen. The smell of her dad's famous French toast
was almost gone, and the dishes had been washed and put away, but she knew
there would be a stack of her favorite breakfast treat waiting for her. As she walked past the doorway to the den,
she noticed her father asleep on the couch, his glasses crooked at a hilarious angle
across the bridge of his nose, his arm hanging over the edge, his lab coat
crumpled on the floor. She giggled to
herself and continued walking to the fridge.
After she had eaten she started feeling mostly normal
again. With the empty spot in her gut
gone, the memory of the previous evening seemed long ago and far away. Even the image of the boys gray eyes seemed
to be leaving her. She wondered to
herself if it was wrong to feel better so soon after killing someone, let alone
for the first time. The doorbell chimed
and she forcibly shook off the last thought as she walked towards the
door.
Her father beat her to the door.
As it swung open she remembered that the policeman the night
before hat told her someone was going to drive by to speak to her. She stepped back and took a deep
breath. She was going to have to do
this eventually. She blinked and almost
did a double take. There in the doorway
stood a tall thin man in a crisp black suit.
His hair was so blonde it was almost white, and his eyes were such a
light blue they almost seemed to disappear.
But despite his rather severe look (like a cross between an undertaker
and a marble statue), his face had a calm and placid look, and he greeted them
in English tinged with a soft southern drawl.
"Good morning. I'm
so sorry to bother you two but I think that we all have some things that need
to be discussed".
Gohan shook his hand and offered him a seat at the table,
and the stranger politely walked over to the table and sat in one smooth motion. He was at least as old as her father (who
didn't look his age at all) but he moved like a cat, like every step was
measured out before he took it.
Although she didn't have any reason to mistrust him, she was defiantly
going to keep an eye on this guy.
Somewhere very close by the proximity sensor in the
bio-mechanoid began an automatic start-up sequence. He/it had engaged partial shut-down mode to restore energy and
body fluid levels before continuing to pursue the new target. Two dull gray eyes opened, and a slight
whirling sound would have been barely audible to anyone close enough to hear
the abnormally slow breathing. But then
again anyone that close would not have lived long enough to see it jump from
the lower limb of the tree and begin silently moving around to the back of the
structure, leaving a trail of footprints in the frost that covered the front
yard of the Son house.
(coming soon…Chapter 3: the attack and a secret revealed)
