Disclaimer: Once again for the record, All I own is a drawing portfolio, the idea for this story, Helotry, Villein, Servillity, Thrall,(who bit it in the last chapter) and Mala. I own the names Taeshen and Gyve, (you'll understand later, promise) and the character Kodran (Ko-dra-an) but not the name. The name was graciously provided by diamond_unicorn (thanks, I really really needed that name!).
A/N: Sorry this chappy took me so long to get up, I was busy being a camp counselor all summer at a residence camp and haven't been home. Haven't been around a computer, or electricity, for that matter, but I digress. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I really appreciate it. And special thanks to diamond_unicorn, who gave me a great villain's name, and to gokou_chan, who has been very helpful. Sorry to hear you're so swamped. One more thing; anyone notice what the four bad guys in the last chappy had in common? Give ya a hint, it had to do with their names. Guess it and I'll award you with the handy-dandy inviso-prize. You'll never even know it's there.
Now. On with the show...
Chpt 5
He sat in the space pod, arms crossed, a frown plastered over his usually jovial features. His traveling companion also wore a frown, but, then again, a frown was the usual expression donned by the Saiyan prince. The two exchanged glances but said nothing, focused instead on the power signatures raging in the battle on the Earth below.
They were on their way home, finally, their week-long mission having come to an abrupt end with the unexpected disappearance of the meteors. Neither of the two Saiyans thought it coincidence that the disappearance of the meteors coincided with the beginning of the battle that was now concluding on the Earth. Not exactly the homecoming they had expected, but that was not important.
What was important was the sudden change in the battle pitch.
"Do you sense that?" Goku asked as one of the powers increased rapidly.
"Of course, Kakarot," Vegita snapped. "I am not inept."
"That power is huge!" Goku observed.
"Baka," Vegita muttered, unconsciously leaning forward as he monitored the battle. The large power was now fading fast, and with it, three of the other powers. Two of those vanished entirely from their senses and two others dropped into being barely detectable. Only one remained unharmed that the Saiyans could sense, and as one, their frowns deepened.
As the pod hurtled closer to Earth, Goku found himself fervently hoping that the owner of that one power was one of his friends.
Hold on, he thought. I'm coming.
High above the Earth, another monitored the battle below. He stood at the edge of his Lookout, staring down at the planet he protected, as if his gaze alone could effect the outcome of the conflict. Behind him, Mr. Popo hovered at his usual spot, looking s if he wanted to ask what was happening but not if it could possibly disturb the god.
The need to ask was negated when Kami jerked violently, then screamed for no reason that his assistant could discern, and collapsed. Mr. Popo looked on in horror as Kami sprawled, face down, on the immaculate white tiles.
"Kami?" The genie took a step forward. "Oh, Kami!"
The god flickered in and out of existence and the knowledge that Piccolo had lost terribly registered somewhere deep in Popo's subconscious, but was ignored as the round d'jinn crouched next to Kami. Unsure of what to do, he could only watch as his friend and master's life faded.
"Kami, please don't go," he moaned, tears stinging his eyes. "Not again."
Chi-chi held the door of her house open so that her son and Krillin could heft the one-time enemy of her husband inside. She followed behind them, closing the door, moving through her home in a daze. The events of the last hour-had it really been only been an hour?-had shaken her more than she had ever been before. She was angry, and frightened, and tired, and the cut on her face from the exploding gun was beginning to hurt, and it was still bleeding, and she just wanted Goku to be home. RIGHT. NOW.
"Chi-chi." Krillin's voice cut through her thoughts. His tone suggested that he had been trying to talk to her for a while. "What do we do with him?"
Chi-chi looked around, frantic. How was she supposed to know? They were the battled hardened warriors, so why were they both looking to her for guidance? This wasn't her job. She was not supposed to be the sturdy oak that survived the storm. She was not the pillar of calm for everyone to turn to for strength. Why were they staring at her?!?
And then she noticed how pale and drawn Krillin looked, as if he had just come through a fight, and how scared and worried Gohan looked. She noticed how both of them were shaking, and her motherly instinct kicked in, seizing control of the situation.
"Sit him on the couch," she ordered, no-nonsense. "Don't let him lay down."
She left the two to maneuver their cargo onto her couch while she dashed upstairs. She went from bathroom to bedroom and back again, gathering bandages and disinfectants, mind racing as she selected and discarded, picking and choosing items that she might need from those she wouldn't. Growing up with, and then marrying a martial artist had its bonuses, first aid being one of them. She used that background to assist her decision to take the curved needle and surgical thread from the medicine cabinet. She didn't know if Nameks needed stitching up or not, but she was determined to be prepared for that likelihood. A small pair of sharp scissors completed her whirlwind first aid kit and she hurried back down stairs with it.
Where she found Gohan and Krillin standing on her couch on either side of the still-unconscious Piccolo, supporting him so that his back was away from the couch's. His head had lolled forward, and the sight of Gohan trying desperately to peer at his mentor's face would have been humorous if the young Saiyan hadn't been so earnest.
Standing over the three fighters, she slipped the tip of her scissors in the left armhole of Piccolo's gi and slid them straight down his ribcage, slicing away the material. She did the same to the right side, then moved the scissors up to his shoulders. Two quick snips severed the sleeves and the top of his gi fell away from his body.
Her face fell with it. He, or at least the waist up part of him, was covered in blood and grim. His blood, *their* blood, even her blood; red, blue, purple, every species from the battlefield represented on his battered body.
"Oh, my," she breathed, backing up and setting the scissors down. "we're going to need water."
She moved into the kitchen, oblivious to the rice that had boiled over on the stove, to the fish burning in the oven. The meal that she had been so diligently preparing before Piccolo had kicked her front door in remained forgotten in her search for water. That was what she was after. The rest didn't matter at the moment. There was water boiling on the stove, so hot that steam rose off of it like smoke. That was what she needed.
She began pulling out bowls, filling them half-full with cold water, then adding the hot. She didn't want to burn the Namek, now, did she? She pulled out towels from one of the cabinets and flipped them up on top her head so that she could carry the bowls.
It took three trips, but she managed to get all of the bowls and towels into the living room without incident. She took up one of the towels and knelt, a bowl between her knees, in front of the Namek. They were her good towels. She had just bought them. She dipped the towel into the water, focused only on the task at hand. Gently, she wiped the towel over Piccolo's body, wiping clean the remnants of the fight. When towel or water became too dirty to be useful, she swapped for a fresh one, and, eventually, she got him mostly cleaned.
His wounds were ugly. The tentacles had cut deep, so deep that she could see bone across his shoulder blade and collarbone. The cuts ran across his back, ribs and a nasty gash marred his stomach. Even his arms and legs had not been spared, though those wounds were not as deep as the others. All were bleeding steadily, with no intentions of stopping on their own accord.
She started with the worst bleeders, and stitched all of the wounds that needed it up on his torso. His eyes fluttered once, but remained closed. The only other sign that he might have been aware of what was happening came in the way his muscles shuddered as the needle moved back and forth. He made no sound, however, and soon she was done, fresh bandages placed neatly over her handiwork.
She used butterfly tape on the gash at his temple, pressing the ragged edges of the cut together before applying the tape. She wiped the rest of the blood from his face, then wrapped bandages tightly around ribs, that, if the bruise patterns were to be trusted, were possibly broken. And still, she was only half way done.
She reached down and pulled off his shoes, then looked at Gohan and Krillin. "Stand him up."
They obeyed, and she slipped the tip of her scissors into the waist band of his gi, next to his hip. And paused, her conscience keeping her from continuing. She chided herself for being ridiculous; she was a wife and mother, after all, it wasn't as if she had never seen a naked man before. But this was different. She had never seen a naked Namek before, especially not this Namek, and she suddenly felt shy about making his unmentionables mentionable. Do Nameks even have unmentionables? she wondered, but could not bring herself to find out.
She put the scissors down and headed towards the laundry room.
"Chi-chi?" Krillin called after her. "Uh, Chi-chi?"
She ignored him. She still had a job to do. She reached for the bag on the dryer and pulled out the brand new pair of black silk boxer shorts. She had bought them for Goku's return home, but in the light of the circumstances, she decided that she could just buy another pair.
She snatched them up, felt the cool material crumple in her fist, and returned to the living room where Gohan and Krillin were still supporting Piccolo. She laid the boxers on the couch, then addressed the two conscious warriors.
"You two are going to have to get him in those," she said, gesturing to the underwear.
Krillin looked stricken. "Wha-? But...but, Chi-chi-"
"JUST DO IT!!!" she roared, frayed nerves finally gone.
"Well, okay," Krillin gulped.
She nodded at the two once, then went into the kitchen. She needed something to keep her busy, and there was always something to be done in the kitchen.
"Okay, Gohan," Krillin said. "I'll hold him up and you get him dressed."
"What?!?" Gohan squeaked, not liking the plan one bit. "Why me?"
"Because you lived with him for a year. You know him better."
Gohan frowned. Krillin had a point. "Well, okay. But I'm not sure about this." He picked up the scissors.
Chi-chi turned off the burners and the stove, ending the tortures being inflicted upon the ruined meal. She moved around the kitchen, throwing away burned food and setting smoking pots in the sink. She grabbed a sponge and attacked the crust of burnt run-over rice that had affixed itself to the top of her stove, and then set to scrubbing the pots. She needed to keep busy. As long as she was busy she wouldn't have to think. And as long as she didn't think, she wouldn't have to ponder questions about why something she had always thought of as the epitome of evil had saved the lives of herself and her son. As long as she was busy, she wouldn't fall apart.
"Chi-chi?" Krillin cautiously stuck his head into the kitchen. "What do we do now?"
She went back into the living room to find Gohan perched on the back of the couch, staring down at Piccolo, who lay flat on his back, boxers, a little snug, firmly in place. The two fighters had apparently cleaned him off the best they could, and had laid the last two clean towels over his thighs to try to staunch the bleeding from his wounds.
From the lay of the material, it appeared that Nameks did indeed have unmentionables, but she didn't stop to examine the possibilities. She didn't even stop to tell Gohan to get off of the back of her couch. Instead, she grabbed the first aid kit and bent over the wounds.
Removing the towels, she was relieved to find that the cuts were relatively shallow. All they needed was cleaning and a bandage, which she supplied. Once done, she took a step back, examining her patient for any wounds she might have missed.
Not seeing any, she turned to Gohan and Krillin. Gohan, you and Krillin take him upstairs and put him in your father's and my room."
Gohan jumped up. "Right," he said enthusiastically and, with Krillin's help, carried the Demon King upstairs leaving Chi-chi to herself.
With a sigh, she began to clean up.
Dawn broke as Goku and Vegita landed in front of the Son house.
"What happened?" Goku asked, dumb-struck at the distruction done to his yard.
"A battle, baka," Vegita answered snidely.
"Chi-chi," Goku breathed, then bolted for his house. "CHI-CHI!!!"
Glancing around once more, Vegita shrugged, then followed. Curiosity had overridden agitation, and he decided it might be worthwhile to find out what had happened.
The door of the Son house flew open and admitted one very distressed Goku. He took in the bandages and medicines stacked neatly on the table, the pair of scissors and the curved needle and thread, and the lingering smell of burned food.
"CHI-CHI!!" he howled.
"Goku, be quiet," she answered, coming out of the kitchen. And then she realized who she was talking to, and her face lit up. "Goku!"
She ran into his arms, and, there, safe, she couldn't hold back the tears. He held her, confused, but not wanting to push her away, until she pulled herself together and pulled away. And he saw for the first time the bruise surrounding the very fresh cut on her cheek, and the dark rings under her eyes.
"Chi-chi, what happened? Where's Gohan?"
"He's in our room with Piccolo and-"
"Piccolo?" Goku interrupted. "What's going on?"
"That's what she is trying to tell you if you'd shut up," Vegita snapped from behind the two. "Baka."
Chi-chi led the two inside and all three sat in the living room as she relayed the events from the past night. And when she was done, both Saiyans sat speechless for a moment.
"They attacked our house?" Goku asked, incredulously. "But why?"
"I don't know," Chi-chi answered.
"Did they attack anywhere else?" Vegita demanded.
"I don't know."
"They could have attacked anywhere, and you didn't find out? Why the hell not, woman!?!"
Chi-chi stood up. "BECAUSE I WAS A LITTLE TOO PREOCCUPIED TO ASK THEM!!! AND DON'T CALL ME WOMAN!!!"
Vegita stood up as well, as did Goku, afraid that the Saiyan prince might go after his wife. Instead, Vegita ran to the door, and was airborne before he had made it completely outside.
"I wonder where he's going?" Goku said as he went to the front door to look after the diminutive Saiyan.
"I don't care," Chi-chi muttered, coming up behind her husband to wrap her arms around his waist and bury her head between his shoulder blades.
"Perhaps you should, my dear," a dark voice cooed from the shadows of an oak a few feet from the Son house. "I know I certainly do."
A/N: Sorry this chappy took me so long to get up, I was busy being a camp counselor all summer at a residence camp and haven't been home. Haven't been around a computer, or electricity, for that matter, but I digress. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I really appreciate it. And special thanks to diamond_unicorn, who gave me a great villain's name, and to gokou_chan, who has been very helpful. Sorry to hear you're so swamped. One more thing; anyone notice what the four bad guys in the last chappy had in common? Give ya a hint, it had to do with their names. Guess it and I'll award you with the handy-dandy inviso-prize. You'll never even know it's there.
Now. On with the show...
Chpt 5
He sat in the space pod, arms crossed, a frown plastered over his usually jovial features. His traveling companion also wore a frown, but, then again, a frown was the usual expression donned by the Saiyan prince. The two exchanged glances but said nothing, focused instead on the power signatures raging in the battle on the Earth below.
They were on their way home, finally, their week-long mission having come to an abrupt end with the unexpected disappearance of the meteors. Neither of the two Saiyans thought it coincidence that the disappearance of the meteors coincided with the beginning of the battle that was now concluding on the Earth. Not exactly the homecoming they had expected, but that was not important.
What was important was the sudden change in the battle pitch.
"Do you sense that?" Goku asked as one of the powers increased rapidly.
"Of course, Kakarot," Vegita snapped. "I am not inept."
"That power is huge!" Goku observed.
"Baka," Vegita muttered, unconsciously leaning forward as he monitored the battle. The large power was now fading fast, and with it, three of the other powers. Two of those vanished entirely from their senses and two others dropped into being barely detectable. Only one remained unharmed that the Saiyans could sense, and as one, their frowns deepened.
As the pod hurtled closer to Earth, Goku found himself fervently hoping that the owner of that one power was one of his friends.
Hold on, he thought. I'm coming.
High above the Earth, another monitored the battle below. He stood at the edge of his Lookout, staring down at the planet he protected, as if his gaze alone could effect the outcome of the conflict. Behind him, Mr. Popo hovered at his usual spot, looking s if he wanted to ask what was happening but not if it could possibly disturb the god.
The need to ask was negated when Kami jerked violently, then screamed for no reason that his assistant could discern, and collapsed. Mr. Popo looked on in horror as Kami sprawled, face down, on the immaculate white tiles.
"Kami?" The genie took a step forward. "Oh, Kami!"
The god flickered in and out of existence and the knowledge that Piccolo had lost terribly registered somewhere deep in Popo's subconscious, but was ignored as the round d'jinn crouched next to Kami. Unsure of what to do, he could only watch as his friend and master's life faded.
"Kami, please don't go," he moaned, tears stinging his eyes. "Not again."
Chi-chi held the door of her house open so that her son and Krillin could heft the one-time enemy of her husband inside. She followed behind them, closing the door, moving through her home in a daze. The events of the last hour-had it really been only been an hour?-had shaken her more than she had ever been before. She was angry, and frightened, and tired, and the cut on her face from the exploding gun was beginning to hurt, and it was still bleeding, and she just wanted Goku to be home. RIGHT. NOW.
"Chi-chi." Krillin's voice cut through her thoughts. His tone suggested that he had been trying to talk to her for a while. "What do we do with him?"
Chi-chi looked around, frantic. How was she supposed to know? They were the battled hardened warriors, so why were they both looking to her for guidance? This wasn't her job. She was not supposed to be the sturdy oak that survived the storm. She was not the pillar of calm for everyone to turn to for strength. Why were they staring at her?!?
And then she noticed how pale and drawn Krillin looked, as if he had just come through a fight, and how scared and worried Gohan looked. She noticed how both of them were shaking, and her motherly instinct kicked in, seizing control of the situation.
"Sit him on the couch," she ordered, no-nonsense. "Don't let him lay down."
She left the two to maneuver their cargo onto her couch while she dashed upstairs. She went from bathroom to bedroom and back again, gathering bandages and disinfectants, mind racing as she selected and discarded, picking and choosing items that she might need from those she wouldn't. Growing up with, and then marrying a martial artist had its bonuses, first aid being one of them. She used that background to assist her decision to take the curved needle and surgical thread from the medicine cabinet. She didn't know if Nameks needed stitching up or not, but she was determined to be prepared for that likelihood. A small pair of sharp scissors completed her whirlwind first aid kit and she hurried back down stairs with it.
Where she found Gohan and Krillin standing on her couch on either side of the still-unconscious Piccolo, supporting him so that his back was away from the couch's. His head had lolled forward, and the sight of Gohan trying desperately to peer at his mentor's face would have been humorous if the young Saiyan hadn't been so earnest.
Standing over the three fighters, she slipped the tip of her scissors in the left armhole of Piccolo's gi and slid them straight down his ribcage, slicing away the material. She did the same to the right side, then moved the scissors up to his shoulders. Two quick snips severed the sleeves and the top of his gi fell away from his body.
Her face fell with it. He, or at least the waist up part of him, was covered in blood and grim. His blood, *their* blood, even her blood; red, blue, purple, every species from the battlefield represented on his battered body.
"Oh, my," she breathed, backing up and setting the scissors down. "we're going to need water."
She moved into the kitchen, oblivious to the rice that had boiled over on the stove, to the fish burning in the oven. The meal that she had been so diligently preparing before Piccolo had kicked her front door in remained forgotten in her search for water. That was what she was after. The rest didn't matter at the moment. There was water boiling on the stove, so hot that steam rose off of it like smoke. That was what she needed.
She began pulling out bowls, filling them half-full with cold water, then adding the hot. She didn't want to burn the Namek, now, did she? She pulled out towels from one of the cabinets and flipped them up on top her head so that she could carry the bowls.
It took three trips, but she managed to get all of the bowls and towels into the living room without incident. She took up one of the towels and knelt, a bowl between her knees, in front of the Namek. They were her good towels. She had just bought them. She dipped the towel into the water, focused only on the task at hand. Gently, she wiped the towel over Piccolo's body, wiping clean the remnants of the fight. When towel or water became too dirty to be useful, she swapped for a fresh one, and, eventually, she got him mostly cleaned.
His wounds were ugly. The tentacles had cut deep, so deep that she could see bone across his shoulder blade and collarbone. The cuts ran across his back, ribs and a nasty gash marred his stomach. Even his arms and legs had not been spared, though those wounds were not as deep as the others. All were bleeding steadily, with no intentions of stopping on their own accord.
She started with the worst bleeders, and stitched all of the wounds that needed it up on his torso. His eyes fluttered once, but remained closed. The only other sign that he might have been aware of what was happening came in the way his muscles shuddered as the needle moved back and forth. He made no sound, however, and soon she was done, fresh bandages placed neatly over her handiwork.
She used butterfly tape on the gash at his temple, pressing the ragged edges of the cut together before applying the tape. She wiped the rest of the blood from his face, then wrapped bandages tightly around ribs, that, if the bruise patterns were to be trusted, were possibly broken. And still, she was only half way done.
She reached down and pulled off his shoes, then looked at Gohan and Krillin. "Stand him up."
They obeyed, and she slipped the tip of her scissors into the waist band of his gi, next to his hip. And paused, her conscience keeping her from continuing. She chided herself for being ridiculous; she was a wife and mother, after all, it wasn't as if she had never seen a naked man before. But this was different. She had never seen a naked Namek before, especially not this Namek, and she suddenly felt shy about making his unmentionables mentionable. Do Nameks even have unmentionables? she wondered, but could not bring herself to find out.
She put the scissors down and headed towards the laundry room.
"Chi-chi?" Krillin called after her. "Uh, Chi-chi?"
She ignored him. She still had a job to do. She reached for the bag on the dryer and pulled out the brand new pair of black silk boxer shorts. She had bought them for Goku's return home, but in the light of the circumstances, she decided that she could just buy another pair.
She snatched them up, felt the cool material crumple in her fist, and returned to the living room where Gohan and Krillin were still supporting Piccolo. She laid the boxers on the couch, then addressed the two conscious warriors.
"You two are going to have to get him in those," she said, gesturing to the underwear.
Krillin looked stricken. "Wha-? But...but, Chi-chi-"
"JUST DO IT!!!" she roared, frayed nerves finally gone.
"Well, okay," Krillin gulped.
She nodded at the two once, then went into the kitchen. She needed something to keep her busy, and there was always something to be done in the kitchen.
"Okay, Gohan," Krillin said. "I'll hold him up and you get him dressed."
"What?!?" Gohan squeaked, not liking the plan one bit. "Why me?"
"Because you lived with him for a year. You know him better."
Gohan frowned. Krillin had a point. "Well, okay. But I'm not sure about this." He picked up the scissors.
Chi-chi turned off the burners and the stove, ending the tortures being inflicted upon the ruined meal. She moved around the kitchen, throwing away burned food and setting smoking pots in the sink. She grabbed a sponge and attacked the crust of burnt run-over rice that had affixed itself to the top of her stove, and then set to scrubbing the pots. She needed to keep busy. As long as she was busy she wouldn't have to think. And as long as she didn't think, she wouldn't have to ponder questions about why something she had always thought of as the epitome of evil had saved the lives of herself and her son. As long as she was busy, she wouldn't fall apart.
"Chi-chi?" Krillin cautiously stuck his head into the kitchen. "What do we do now?"
She went back into the living room to find Gohan perched on the back of the couch, staring down at Piccolo, who lay flat on his back, boxers, a little snug, firmly in place. The two fighters had apparently cleaned him off the best they could, and had laid the last two clean towels over his thighs to try to staunch the bleeding from his wounds.
From the lay of the material, it appeared that Nameks did indeed have unmentionables, but she didn't stop to examine the possibilities. She didn't even stop to tell Gohan to get off of the back of her couch. Instead, she grabbed the first aid kit and bent over the wounds.
Removing the towels, she was relieved to find that the cuts were relatively shallow. All they needed was cleaning and a bandage, which she supplied. Once done, she took a step back, examining her patient for any wounds she might have missed.
Not seeing any, she turned to Gohan and Krillin. Gohan, you and Krillin take him upstairs and put him in your father's and my room."
Gohan jumped up. "Right," he said enthusiastically and, with Krillin's help, carried the Demon King upstairs leaving Chi-chi to herself.
With a sigh, she began to clean up.
Dawn broke as Goku and Vegita landed in front of the Son house.
"What happened?" Goku asked, dumb-struck at the distruction done to his yard.
"A battle, baka," Vegita answered snidely.
"Chi-chi," Goku breathed, then bolted for his house. "CHI-CHI!!!"
Glancing around once more, Vegita shrugged, then followed. Curiosity had overridden agitation, and he decided it might be worthwhile to find out what had happened.
The door of the Son house flew open and admitted one very distressed Goku. He took in the bandages and medicines stacked neatly on the table, the pair of scissors and the curved needle and thread, and the lingering smell of burned food.
"CHI-CHI!!" he howled.
"Goku, be quiet," she answered, coming out of the kitchen. And then she realized who she was talking to, and her face lit up. "Goku!"
She ran into his arms, and, there, safe, she couldn't hold back the tears. He held her, confused, but not wanting to push her away, until she pulled herself together and pulled away. And he saw for the first time the bruise surrounding the very fresh cut on her cheek, and the dark rings under her eyes.
"Chi-chi, what happened? Where's Gohan?"
"He's in our room with Piccolo and-"
"Piccolo?" Goku interrupted. "What's going on?"
"That's what she is trying to tell you if you'd shut up," Vegita snapped from behind the two. "Baka."
Chi-chi led the two inside and all three sat in the living room as she relayed the events from the past night. And when she was done, both Saiyans sat speechless for a moment.
"They attacked our house?" Goku asked, incredulously. "But why?"
"I don't know," Chi-chi answered.
"Did they attack anywhere else?" Vegita demanded.
"I don't know."
"They could have attacked anywhere, and you didn't find out? Why the hell not, woman!?!"
Chi-chi stood up. "BECAUSE I WAS A LITTLE TOO PREOCCUPIED TO ASK THEM!!! AND DON'T CALL ME WOMAN!!!"
Vegita stood up as well, as did Goku, afraid that the Saiyan prince might go after his wife. Instead, Vegita ran to the door, and was airborne before he had made it completely outside.
"I wonder where he's going?" Goku said as he went to the front door to look after the diminutive Saiyan.
"I don't care," Chi-chi muttered, coming up behind her husband to wrap her arms around his waist and bury her head between his shoulder blades.
"Perhaps you should, my dear," a dark voice cooed from the shadows of an oak a few feet from the Son house. "I know I certainly do."