Disclaimer: I still don't own DBZ. Nor do I own the song "So Fresh & So
Clean", it belongs to Outkast. And I sure as heck don't own the rights to
Fraggle Rock…kuso!
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The Mischief Makers
Chapter 8…When The Shit Hits The Fan…
By: Ember Maxximus
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At the Son residence…
Son Goten stealthily climbed in through his open window. He stretched his Ki sensing abilities out to the other members of his household and noted the entire clan was fast asleep. He exhaled deeply and wiped the forming nervous perspiration from his brow in relief. He went to the corner of his small boudoir and removed a loose floorboard near his dresser. Alongside his growing Playboy stash, he hid Gohan's old driver's license and the fat wad of cash that the Rastafarian drug pusher had so generously donated to him. He scrupulously placed each item in it's own place and returned the board back to its original state.
He reached into his dresser drawer and removed a pair of paisley boxer shorts. Treading ever so softly, he made his way down to the hallway to the homes' only shower. Silently, Goten thanked Gohan for the small addition to his life long home.
Originally, Gohan had wanted to purchase his dearly loved mother a new home, when he had gotten the high paying professors' job at West Capitol's posh university, but she had modestly declined. In the end Gohan settled for adding a modern master bathroom to the aging house, as a present to his mother. Although she had chided him for the gift, it was much appreciated, especially during cold winter nights. Simply reminiscing about having to pre boil his bath water in that giant metal tub outside made him grimace.
He turned the hot water on, allowing the room to fill with steam. He adjusted the temperature, removed his skivvies, and hopped into the scalding shower. The forceful heated spray of the massaging water felt extremely blissful as it cascaded down his chiseled back, rinsing away the grime, and relaxing his tired muscles. He scrubbed his body and hair with the scented soap until his skin was nearly raw and his scalp tingled. Absolutely, no way in hell, could he allow anyone to scent his discrepancies from the night before.
Using all his willpower, Goten had to all but bite his tongue to keep from singing aloud or for that matter even humming Outkast's So Fresh & So Clean…ain't nobody dope as me, I dress so fresh and clean…so fresh & so clean, clean. He pulled aside the floral shower curtain and reached for the towel…that wasn't there.
'Kuso, no towel,' he thought. He was just about to simply flare his Ki to dry, but fear of being found awake so early this Sunday morning altered his decision.
The dark haired demi saiyan youth opened the bathroom door. He peeked his head out through the narrow opening and looked right…no one, then left…no one. In all his naked glory, he quietly tiptoed down the long hallway to the linen closet. He opened the cabinet, searching for his most cherished Fraggle Rock towel. He scanned the towels, finding the desired one at the bottom of the stack. Just as he was about to remove the drying cloth, he heard a deafening, ear splitting shriek.
Time seemed to stand eternally still as Goten turned to see his mother, ChiChi, at the end of the once empty hallway. Her body shook with rage, her cheeks flushed with fury. Her eyes were fixated on the enormous henna tattoo that covered the entire left cheek of his muscled behind. She saw everything, the giant red heart with wings that read Bulma Forever. She saw the doves, doilies, flowers and each and every small twinkling star that surrounded the heart.
"SON GOTEN!" she screeched. "What on Kami's green Chikyuu is that on your bottom. Goten! Answer me! Goten, 'o my word! Does that say Bulma!?!"
"Mom, it's not what you think…I can explain."
Meanwhile, at the Vegeta-Briefs residence…
Bathed and in bed Trunks Vegeta-Briefs slumbered peacefully, wholly unaware of his best friends current dilemma. Sweet dreams of Blaze, Britney, and Elvia Darkdragon
giving him "special attentions" danced in subliminal thoughts.
At the opposite end of the huge mansion, the infant eating machine, otherwise known as Bra Vegeta Briefs awoke screaming her lungs out with an empty belly and a full diaper. Bulma groaned, rubbed her sleepy eyes and got up from bed to attend to the unhappy babe.
Half asleep, Bulma trudged down the hall to her daughter's nursery. All the while mumbling obscenities under her breath about the child's baka sire and his blatant refusal to change diapers and prepare formula.
Twenty minutes later the mother and daughter pair were comfortably seated at the kitchen table. Bulma sat sipping espresso and reading her newspapers, the Satan City Informer and West Capitol Gazette while Bra sat contently in her motorized Capsule baby swing chugging down her eighth bottle of Similac. For the two, this was a Sunday morning ritual, a time to bond. Akin to way Vegeta would drag Trunks to gravity chamber to pound the life out of the boy in a simple training session. Yes, very similar, except for the whole blood and bruises part.
"I love you B-chan," she cooed to the infant.
Bright blue eyes acknowledged her mother, and then the little one returned her full attention back to the warm formula. Bulma decided to read the Satan City Informer as the first brain food of the morning. She unfolded the daily paper and to her downright disbelief, there on the front page was a full color picture of Yamcha dressed in the erotic cowboy gear standing next to a vehicle fully engulfed in flames. She couldn't help but laugh aloud at the fool and curiosity required she read the article…
Local baseball hero and Satan's city's most eligible bachelor, Yamcha was the last victim of an apparent rise in crime in Satan City's downtown party district last night. The first incident to occur happened at the ever- popular gentlemen's club 'The Naughty Kitten'. Sources say that one hundred and fifty zeni worth of exotic dancewear was possibly stolen by an elderly man and pet pig whom had been reportedly banned the previous year from the club. Approximately three blocks from that event a massive barroom style brawl took place at the techno haven, Blue Planet Club. It seems the culprit behind the disastrous incident was an unknown lavender haired assailant with inhuman strength. Eyewitness' statements declare that the man pummeled over twenty men before blowing up the black wall with some sort of grenade. He eluded capture and escaped with a drunken dark haired man. Also, five blocks away, a man, convicted felon, Heracio Farley, claims to be attacked and robbed by a 'Gold Fighter', but police noted that the man was under some unknown illegal substance and he will be detained for further questioning of possible unrelated drug trafficking allegations. It was also reported that over one thousand pounds of cow manure valuing five hundred zeni was stolen from 'Pa & Ma's Wholesale Garden Center'. Even more perplexing, was the fact that the owner's Doberman guard dogs seemed to be in some sort of shock. The veterinary facility the animals' were taken to confirm that canines were NOT poisoned as originally deduced, only in shock, the dogs are scheduled for release sometime early next week. The most scandalous of events was the vandalism to super fighter, Yamcha's new capsule air Camaro. It seems that several explicit comments were blowtorched into the vehicle's body. The car was also filled with some unknown foul smelling accelerant and lit on fire. It took fire fighters nearly thirty minutes to subdue the blaze. Yamcha was unable to comment about his car's condition or his cowboy attire (note cover picture) or even the reason why he was at the 'No Tell Motel' in the first place. Police are baffled and have no leads to any possible suspects. Police also refused to comment if any of these incidents may or may not be related to each other. Police also urge anyone with any information to contact your local police department with tips and would also like to remind callers that their identities will be kept anonymous…
Bulma sipped her espresso as she let her mind absorb the article. Obviously, Master Roshi and Oolong had been on another one of their infamous panty raids but the rest of the article was simply screaming at her mother's intuition. Giving into curiosity, she lifted the babe from the swing and made her way to her eldest child's room. She peeked into the room to find the boy fast asleep. He was growing up into such a handsome young man. He looked exactly like his father, painted in her colors. Her firstborn, her pride and joy. Just coincidences she told herself. She trekked back down the stairs, how could she of possibly have even entertained the thought that little Trunks might be behind any of last night's crime spree.
She made herself another steaming cup of the dark caffeinated beverage. Bra was placed back into the swing and Bulma returned to her seat in the chair. She grabbed the other paper, The West Capitol Gazette, and flipped through each section. She read each page top to bottom. Not one spot on the newspaper was left untouched by her inquisitive azure eyes. Fingertips smudged with black ink, she opened the last section of the paper, the local news. Smack dab in the center of the paper was a five by five color picture of her son and Goten. Now that had definitely caught her interest, she began to read…
For the first time in the history of 'Raul's Bistro' a pair of young men, Joe Kawaii and Son Gohan finished not one but a combined total of six 56oz. T-bone steak meals. The small restaurant has been open for over twenty years and this was the first time ever that the feat was able to be successfully accomplished. Since last night, Mr. Raul has added a stipulation to the free meal, only one person per year.
"That little shit!" Bulma growled. Leaving the baby in the swing, she stormed up the stairs to her son's bedroom. She burst through the door, flipping the light on upon entering. She grabbed the corner of the black comforter and jerked it off of the bed to reveal the sleeping the teenager, dressed only in a pair of plaid pajama bottoms.
"Get up! Get up!" she screeched. Half asleep, Trunks stumbled out of bed. "Downstairs now!" She gripped the boy by his ear, hauling him down the stairs to the kitchen table. Bulma pushed the articles in face yelling, "Read it!"
Now, quite awake, he read the piece of writing. 'How did she know! I can still play it off, she's only making assumptions.' Trunks then flipped over the second newspaper article to see the very incriminating picture. Trunks sweat dropped.
"So, young man or should I say Mr. Joe Cool, what do you have to say for yourself," she questioned sternly, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I…um," Trunks began, his brain in overdrive trying to concoct some plausible lie, that would offer the least amount of punishment.
DING-DONG
'Yes, saved by the bell,' he thought.
"You stay put!" Bulma told her son. She hefted chibi Bra from the baby swing and quickly went to the front entrance.
'Um the date on the restaurant photo is from last week. Yes, that's what I'll tell her. And um...the article is just a coincidence, as if I'm the only that hates Yamcha…whatever. There are no suspects are any incriminating evidence. Oh ya. Dude, you're too clever. I am da man with da plan…It's all good,' he reflected to himself.
Bulma returned to the kitchen, followed by the uninvited early morning guests. ChiChi towed Goten into the kitchen, a large cast iron skillet in the other hand. Poor Goten was being unceremoniously yanked by the ear. The young man was barefoot and wearing only a thin pair of cotton boxer shorts.
"Show her!" screeched the harpy mother at her frightened offspring.
"What are you talking about mom? I just wanna go back home, you're embarrassing me," pleaded Goten.
Taking the massive frying pan, she walloped her youngest some upside down his cranium. "YOU, em-BARE-ASS-ed yourself, boy! Now show Bulma-san how you desecrated your body with that filth, then I demand you apologize to her!"
With ease that only comes from years of firsthand experience in child rearing, she flung the upstart unpleasant child over her knee. She tugged the undergarment aside, exposing the massive tattoo of Bulma Forever along with the frilly fru fru that surrounded it. Bulma gasped aloud, eyes bulging out of their sockets. Goten struggled to upright himself, mumbling obscenities under his breathe.
**smack** again she struck him with the cast iron skillet. "I'll have none of that filth flarn filth coming out of that mouth of yours, Goten!"
Trunks couldn't take it anymore and flung himself to Goten's defense. "It's just henna mom, it'll come off after a week or two." At that moment, Bulma's attention focused on the Saiya-jin royal family crest that was inked into her son's upper arm.
"And, I suppose that's henna, too." Bulma poked the fresh tattoo as hard as she possibly could, earning an 'ouch' from Trunks.
"Gomen-nasai, Bulma-san. I meant no disrespect, I only did it as a joke to Trunks" Goten spoke. **I'm sorry**
"I accept your apology. I have a special solution that should clean that off rather nicely in the lab, you may have it when you leave…and um, if you value your life, let's not tell Vegeta about it either. We'll just pretend it never happened."
"Arigatou, Bulma-san, arigatou," he replied. **Thank you**
Bulma retrieved both articles, handing them to ChiChi, whom read both newspaper editorials aloud, her voice taking on a very deadly tone as she progressed.
"Is this true, Goten?" she asked. "And do not dare lie to me because I will know!" she threatened.
Trunks looked to his partner in crime in absolute horror. "Hai..." he began.
"Iie, he meant iie. Right Goten, you meant no," Trunks interjected.
Bulma narrowed her eyes at her son. She focused on his mouth as he wholeheartedly defended his virtue. "NANI! Trunks you pierced you're tongue, too!?! How could you!?!"
Like a rancher inspecting possible, soon to be purchased livestock, she grabbed the demi saiyan's chin and pried his mouth open to examine his lying, pierced tongue.
"Okay Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum here's the deal. You have approximately two minutes to tell me exactly what happened last night or I will personally call the police and so help me Kami, I will let you two juvenile delinquents rot away in the youth detention center until the end of time."
Trunks knew his mother now officially meant business. He looked to Goten, whom merely nodded, and then threw in the white towel. "We didn't steal the panties, that was Master Roshi and Oolong."
"Everything else, more or less, was us," added Goten.
ChiChi glared daggers into her youngest son and for the third time that morning she belted young Goten with the skillet.
"Trunks Vegeta Briefs you will pay for all the damages you've caused. The money will be deducted from your trust fund and I will not report you to the police," Bulma informed him.
"And you," ChiChi added, "will help pay for the damages as well, perhaps Bulma-san, you could employ you little heathens as janitors at Capsule Corporation's new sky rise."
"Trunks, if I had the Ki to, I would beat you in the head until the white meat showed. But since I can't…" She walked over to the phone/intercom and paged Vegeta in the gravity room. The two briefly conversed, and then she ended the call and exited the room to return only minutes later with a bottle of orange liquid. She handing the bottle to ChiChi.
"This should remove it, call me later Chi." The dark haired woman graciously accepted the bottle. Goten in tow, she drug the poor young adolescent to the family's older model station wagon air car parked out front, all the while cursing threats and obscenities to the youth and complaining something about her blood pressure as she drove away.
The Saiyan Prince regally strode into the house, nose in the air. Addressing his mate, he spoke "What has the brat done, that requires my immediate attention, woman?"
She pushed the article into his hands. "He made the newspaper. Last night he and Goten went on a crime spree in Satan City. Read it." Vegeta skimmed both articles over and put them back on the table.
Scowling intently at his only son, he stated in his raspy voice, "These accusations are true, brat?"
Meeting his father's ebony gaze, he replied "Hai, more of less."
Vegeta snorted, crossing his arms over chest. This enraged Bulma to no end, the man's son wrecks havoc on an entire city and he just 'hmphs' and crosses his arms. "Well Vegeta, aren't you going to do something. If I had an inkling of your strength, I would put the little upstart rabble- rouser over my knee and spank his troublemaking hiney so bad that he wouldn't be able to sit down for a week and then after that I'd smack the taste out of his mouth," Bulma gritted through clenched teeth.
"Woman the Saiyan no ouji does not 'spank hineys'. What would you have me do to then to the brat, the boy is excessively mellow for a Saiya-jin adolescent. At his age, I had done more damage than either of you could possibly comprehend," he stated matter of factly.
"This is Chikyuu, not some planet Kami knows where, out at the other end of the galaxy! Here we live by laws, not anarchy. All I'm suggesting is the boy be punished, Ve-ge-ta!" she retorted.
"I see…brat, get dressed and meet me in the gravity chamber in ten minutes." Trunks grimaced and ran up the stairs to his room to change into more suitable sparring attire. "Boy!" Vegeta called after him, "leave that sword alone, a real warrior needs no weapons."
'Kuso, dad's gonna kill me. I hope I don't have to stay in the regeneration tank too long. That slimy blue liquid tastes like crap! ***Shudders*** Man, I don't get it! URGH! Mom and her stupid Sunday morning newspapers! Damn Goten and that stupid bistro and that fucking Bulma Forever tattoo. URGH!'
After changing, Trunks entered the gravity room to see his father performing a series stretches. Trunks followed suit and began to do the same.
"Tell me exactly what happened last night." Vegeta snarled.
Trunks inhaled deeply and told the entire tale of his and Goten's adventure last night. He thoroughly explained the whole account, from beginning to end, only omitting the part of Goten's henna body art.
Vegeta smirked at the boy's testimony. He even laughed at the Yamcha/weakling fornicator fiasco. After Trunks had finally concluded his story Vegeta spoke, "I presume the tongue adornment is another form of this planets odd jewelry."
"Hai otousan…more or less"
"I see, and precisely how much in damages is your mother intending on removing from you trust fund?"
"I'm not sure, maybe eighty or ninety thousand zeni," Trunks frowned.
"I see." Vegeta walked to the opposite end of the gravity enhanced training facility, motioning for Trunks to follow him. They made their way down a ladder and ended up in the bowels of the gravity ship. Trunks surveyed the room in awe. He had heard his grandfather mention that the gravity room was a ship, but he hadn't really paid it any mind. He could see that through the doorway at the other end of the room was the ship's main control and piloting functions. In the opposite direction was a closed door; he followed his father into that room. It turned out to be modest living quarters, simply a bed, desk, dresser and an adjacent bathroom. In the wall there appeared to be a safe of some sort. Vegeta stepped up to the small safe, placing his palm on it. Immediately, it hummed to life, taking a retina and fingerprint scan. The door slid open, revealing large amounts of cash and jewels along with what appeared to be a silver, diamond, and sapphire jeweled medallion.
"The permanent dye you've applied to your skin, do you know what that symbol represents?"
"I recall you telling me stories of your people, as a child. And you always have mom embroider your chest armor with the symbol. I asked her about it one day and she said it was your Vegeta-sei royal family crest."
For just the vaguest of moments Vegeta's trademark smirk turned upwards at both ends in the form of a tiny grin, although it was gone as soon as it appeared. His only approving acknowledgment to his son's tattoo.
"He removed several stacks of money and encapsulated them. Handing the capsule over to Trunks he said, "Your mother gives me this zeni, as if I had any desire to frequent one of those shopping malls," he sneered. "This should be more than sufficient amount to reimburse your trust fund. Now give me your pledge that you will not make known to your mother or to Kakarrott's idiot spawn, the events that have transpired, just now, in this room."
"Hai, otousan. You have my word," Trunks promised. "Why father? Why help me like this after all the trouble I made last night?"
Vegeta chuckled, "Brat, your actions last night were harmless and amusing. Although I wish I could have been witness to the expression on the weakling fornicator's face after you demolished his air car."
Trunks laughed at the memory, it was indeed quite humorous. Perhaps in the future he could prank the man again. Vegeta closed the wall safe and went back upstairs to the gravity enhanced training facility, followed by his demi saiyan heir. He returned to his stretches, while Trunks made his way towards the exit.
"Brat, stay here. Your mother wants you bled and I intend to oblige her." Trunks braced himself for the onslaught of Vegeta's attack. The father/son pair spent the entirety of the morning sparring or to say more truthfully, Trunks spent the sum of the morning getting his ass kicked, oh yeah, the boy would definitely be shitting white gold tipped combat boots for the next week.
~*~*~*~*~
Monday at Orange Star High School…
Trunks walked down the school's crowded hall to his morning destination, his locker. He could see his best friend and partner in crime, Goten, waiting patiently for Trunks' arrival.
"So, I see you still have your ear. I like the way you combed your hair to hide the skillet marks," Trunks jested. "You know, if we really wanted to, we could so have our folks arrested for child abuse."
Goten chuckled at his friends' joke. "Trunks, we're gonna go out again, ne?"
"Dude, of course! We just gotta wait for everything to cool down some, first. Hey, dude can you keep a secret."
"No, but tell me anyways," replied Goten.
"Remember that hot chick, Elvia Darkdragon, from the tattoo parlor?" asked Trunks, Goten nodded. "Well, I called her last night and she wants me to come over next weekend so she can teach me how to use my tongue piercing."
"What do you mean? It's just jewelry," asked Goten in confusion.
"I'm not sure but I really want to find out," Trunks smirked. "And you know what else, she asked me if I knew how to breathe through my ears."
"Wha…" Goten began, but then suddenly his pubescent hentai mind grasped the concept of Trunks words. "Ohhh…" he blushed. The two began to laugh. It was just about time for them to go to their separate homeroom classes when suddenly a pair of small hands covered Trunks' blue eyes.
"Guess who?" asked a familiar feminine voice. Using his saiyan speed, he quickly spun around to be greeted by a pair of hazel eyes and a sweet smile.
"Britney?" he asked, very perplexed.
"Duh," she giggled.
"What are you doing here?" Trunks asked.
"I go to school here, it's my first day." Trunks looked at her, slightly puzzled. "C'mon now, as if you're the only one with a fake ID."
The bell rang, signaling that school had now begun. "Gotta go, catch you later Trunks."
Turning to Goten she smiled, "Bye Trunks' friend."
"What the heck was that? First Elvia, now Britney. What's next? Blaze as my substitute P.E. teacher?" joked Trunks.
The demi saiyan, mischief-making duo again fell into a fit of laughter. "Man, you're too funny, but I gotta bail. I promised man that I'd improve my grades and apply for Harvard, for a reduced sentence."
"And she bought it?"
"Shut up Trunks, I'll catch ya later at lunch, I'm out bro." And with that, the two split up, each heading to their separate homerooms to begin a new day; to start a new week… a mischief filled week.
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The End
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A/N: So be honest, how was the ending? Did it go out with a bang? And to answer Mistress Alexa's question…Well I left it open for a sequel **snickers** I left it open for a Trunks/Elvia Darkdragon PWP too. But I wanna get my Sweet child of Mine fic finished before I entertain writing a sequel or PWP to this fic. But if I do, just leave in a review if you want me to notify ya'll if I do. Oh, and just so we're all on the same page here. PWP=lemon, so be warned. Okay, Mistress Alexa…just pack him up and send Mr. Briefs over at your earliest convenience.
~EM
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The Mischief Makers
Chapter 8…When The Shit Hits The Fan…
By: Ember Maxximus
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At the Son residence…
Son Goten stealthily climbed in through his open window. He stretched his Ki sensing abilities out to the other members of his household and noted the entire clan was fast asleep. He exhaled deeply and wiped the forming nervous perspiration from his brow in relief. He went to the corner of his small boudoir and removed a loose floorboard near his dresser. Alongside his growing Playboy stash, he hid Gohan's old driver's license and the fat wad of cash that the Rastafarian drug pusher had so generously donated to him. He scrupulously placed each item in it's own place and returned the board back to its original state.
He reached into his dresser drawer and removed a pair of paisley boxer shorts. Treading ever so softly, he made his way down to the hallway to the homes' only shower. Silently, Goten thanked Gohan for the small addition to his life long home.
Originally, Gohan had wanted to purchase his dearly loved mother a new home, when he had gotten the high paying professors' job at West Capitol's posh university, but she had modestly declined. In the end Gohan settled for adding a modern master bathroom to the aging house, as a present to his mother. Although she had chided him for the gift, it was much appreciated, especially during cold winter nights. Simply reminiscing about having to pre boil his bath water in that giant metal tub outside made him grimace.
He turned the hot water on, allowing the room to fill with steam. He adjusted the temperature, removed his skivvies, and hopped into the scalding shower. The forceful heated spray of the massaging water felt extremely blissful as it cascaded down his chiseled back, rinsing away the grime, and relaxing his tired muscles. He scrubbed his body and hair with the scented soap until his skin was nearly raw and his scalp tingled. Absolutely, no way in hell, could he allow anyone to scent his discrepancies from the night before.
Using all his willpower, Goten had to all but bite his tongue to keep from singing aloud or for that matter even humming Outkast's So Fresh & So Clean…ain't nobody dope as me, I dress so fresh and clean…so fresh & so clean, clean. He pulled aside the floral shower curtain and reached for the towel…that wasn't there.
'Kuso, no towel,' he thought. He was just about to simply flare his Ki to dry, but fear of being found awake so early this Sunday morning altered his decision.
The dark haired demi saiyan youth opened the bathroom door. He peeked his head out through the narrow opening and looked right…no one, then left…no one. In all his naked glory, he quietly tiptoed down the long hallway to the linen closet. He opened the cabinet, searching for his most cherished Fraggle Rock towel. He scanned the towels, finding the desired one at the bottom of the stack. Just as he was about to remove the drying cloth, he heard a deafening, ear splitting shriek.
Time seemed to stand eternally still as Goten turned to see his mother, ChiChi, at the end of the once empty hallway. Her body shook with rage, her cheeks flushed with fury. Her eyes were fixated on the enormous henna tattoo that covered the entire left cheek of his muscled behind. She saw everything, the giant red heart with wings that read Bulma Forever. She saw the doves, doilies, flowers and each and every small twinkling star that surrounded the heart.
"SON GOTEN!" she screeched. "What on Kami's green Chikyuu is that on your bottom. Goten! Answer me! Goten, 'o my word! Does that say Bulma!?!"
"Mom, it's not what you think…I can explain."
Meanwhile, at the Vegeta-Briefs residence…
Bathed and in bed Trunks Vegeta-Briefs slumbered peacefully, wholly unaware of his best friends current dilemma. Sweet dreams of Blaze, Britney, and Elvia Darkdragon
giving him "special attentions" danced in subliminal thoughts.
At the opposite end of the huge mansion, the infant eating machine, otherwise known as Bra Vegeta Briefs awoke screaming her lungs out with an empty belly and a full diaper. Bulma groaned, rubbed her sleepy eyes and got up from bed to attend to the unhappy babe.
Half asleep, Bulma trudged down the hall to her daughter's nursery. All the while mumbling obscenities under her breath about the child's baka sire and his blatant refusal to change diapers and prepare formula.
Twenty minutes later the mother and daughter pair were comfortably seated at the kitchen table. Bulma sat sipping espresso and reading her newspapers, the Satan City Informer and West Capitol Gazette while Bra sat contently in her motorized Capsule baby swing chugging down her eighth bottle of Similac. For the two, this was a Sunday morning ritual, a time to bond. Akin to way Vegeta would drag Trunks to gravity chamber to pound the life out of the boy in a simple training session. Yes, very similar, except for the whole blood and bruises part.
"I love you B-chan," she cooed to the infant.
Bright blue eyes acknowledged her mother, and then the little one returned her full attention back to the warm formula. Bulma decided to read the Satan City Informer as the first brain food of the morning. She unfolded the daily paper and to her downright disbelief, there on the front page was a full color picture of Yamcha dressed in the erotic cowboy gear standing next to a vehicle fully engulfed in flames. She couldn't help but laugh aloud at the fool and curiosity required she read the article…
Local baseball hero and Satan's city's most eligible bachelor, Yamcha was the last victim of an apparent rise in crime in Satan City's downtown party district last night. The first incident to occur happened at the ever- popular gentlemen's club 'The Naughty Kitten'. Sources say that one hundred and fifty zeni worth of exotic dancewear was possibly stolen by an elderly man and pet pig whom had been reportedly banned the previous year from the club. Approximately three blocks from that event a massive barroom style brawl took place at the techno haven, Blue Planet Club. It seems the culprit behind the disastrous incident was an unknown lavender haired assailant with inhuman strength. Eyewitness' statements declare that the man pummeled over twenty men before blowing up the black wall with some sort of grenade. He eluded capture and escaped with a drunken dark haired man. Also, five blocks away, a man, convicted felon, Heracio Farley, claims to be attacked and robbed by a 'Gold Fighter', but police noted that the man was under some unknown illegal substance and he will be detained for further questioning of possible unrelated drug trafficking allegations. It was also reported that over one thousand pounds of cow manure valuing five hundred zeni was stolen from 'Pa & Ma's Wholesale Garden Center'. Even more perplexing, was the fact that the owner's Doberman guard dogs seemed to be in some sort of shock. The veterinary facility the animals' were taken to confirm that canines were NOT poisoned as originally deduced, only in shock, the dogs are scheduled for release sometime early next week. The most scandalous of events was the vandalism to super fighter, Yamcha's new capsule air Camaro. It seems that several explicit comments were blowtorched into the vehicle's body. The car was also filled with some unknown foul smelling accelerant and lit on fire. It took fire fighters nearly thirty minutes to subdue the blaze. Yamcha was unable to comment about his car's condition or his cowboy attire (note cover picture) or even the reason why he was at the 'No Tell Motel' in the first place. Police are baffled and have no leads to any possible suspects. Police also refused to comment if any of these incidents may or may not be related to each other. Police also urge anyone with any information to contact your local police department with tips and would also like to remind callers that their identities will be kept anonymous…
Bulma sipped her espresso as she let her mind absorb the article. Obviously, Master Roshi and Oolong had been on another one of their infamous panty raids but the rest of the article was simply screaming at her mother's intuition. Giving into curiosity, she lifted the babe from the swing and made her way to her eldest child's room. She peeked into the room to find the boy fast asleep. He was growing up into such a handsome young man. He looked exactly like his father, painted in her colors. Her firstborn, her pride and joy. Just coincidences she told herself. She trekked back down the stairs, how could she of possibly have even entertained the thought that little Trunks might be behind any of last night's crime spree.
She made herself another steaming cup of the dark caffeinated beverage. Bra was placed back into the swing and Bulma returned to her seat in the chair. She grabbed the other paper, The West Capitol Gazette, and flipped through each section. She read each page top to bottom. Not one spot on the newspaper was left untouched by her inquisitive azure eyes. Fingertips smudged with black ink, she opened the last section of the paper, the local news. Smack dab in the center of the paper was a five by five color picture of her son and Goten. Now that had definitely caught her interest, she began to read…
For the first time in the history of 'Raul's Bistro' a pair of young men, Joe Kawaii and Son Gohan finished not one but a combined total of six 56oz. T-bone steak meals. The small restaurant has been open for over twenty years and this was the first time ever that the feat was able to be successfully accomplished. Since last night, Mr. Raul has added a stipulation to the free meal, only one person per year.
"That little shit!" Bulma growled. Leaving the baby in the swing, she stormed up the stairs to her son's bedroom. She burst through the door, flipping the light on upon entering. She grabbed the corner of the black comforter and jerked it off of the bed to reveal the sleeping the teenager, dressed only in a pair of plaid pajama bottoms.
"Get up! Get up!" she screeched. Half asleep, Trunks stumbled out of bed. "Downstairs now!" She gripped the boy by his ear, hauling him down the stairs to the kitchen table. Bulma pushed the articles in face yelling, "Read it!"
Now, quite awake, he read the piece of writing. 'How did she know! I can still play it off, she's only making assumptions.' Trunks then flipped over the second newspaper article to see the very incriminating picture. Trunks sweat dropped.
"So, young man or should I say Mr. Joe Cool, what do you have to say for yourself," she questioned sternly, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I…um," Trunks began, his brain in overdrive trying to concoct some plausible lie, that would offer the least amount of punishment.
DING-DONG
'Yes, saved by the bell,' he thought.
"You stay put!" Bulma told her son. She hefted chibi Bra from the baby swing and quickly went to the front entrance.
'Um the date on the restaurant photo is from last week. Yes, that's what I'll tell her. And um...the article is just a coincidence, as if I'm the only that hates Yamcha…whatever. There are no suspects are any incriminating evidence. Oh ya. Dude, you're too clever. I am da man with da plan…It's all good,' he reflected to himself.
Bulma returned to the kitchen, followed by the uninvited early morning guests. ChiChi towed Goten into the kitchen, a large cast iron skillet in the other hand. Poor Goten was being unceremoniously yanked by the ear. The young man was barefoot and wearing only a thin pair of cotton boxer shorts.
"Show her!" screeched the harpy mother at her frightened offspring.
"What are you talking about mom? I just wanna go back home, you're embarrassing me," pleaded Goten.
Taking the massive frying pan, she walloped her youngest some upside down his cranium. "YOU, em-BARE-ASS-ed yourself, boy! Now show Bulma-san how you desecrated your body with that filth, then I demand you apologize to her!"
With ease that only comes from years of firsthand experience in child rearing, she flung the upstart unpleasant child over her knee. She tugged the undergarment aside, exposing the massive tattoo of Bulma Forever along with the frilly fru fru that surrounded it. Bulma gasped aloud, eyes bulging out of their sockets. Goten struggled to upright himself, mumbling obscenities under his breathe.
**smack** again she struck him with the cast iron skillet. "I'll have none of that filth flarn filth coming out of that mouth of yours, Goten!"
Trunks couldn't take it anymore and flung himself to Goten's defense. "It's just henna mom, it'll come off after a week or two." At that moment, Bulma's attention focused on the Saiya-jin royal family crest that was inked into her son's upper arm.
"And, I suppose that's henna, too." Bulma poked the fresh tattoo as hard as she possibly could, earning an 'ouch' from Trunks.
"Gomen-nasai, Bulma-san. I meant no disrespect, I only did it as a joke to Trunks" Goten spoke. **I'm sorry**
"I accept your apology. I have a special solution that should clean that off rather nicely in the lab, you may have it when you leave…and um, if you value your life, let's not tell Vegeta about it either. We'll just pretend it never happened."
"Arigatou, Bulma-san, arigatou," he replied. **Thank you**
Bulma retrieved both articles, handing them to ChiChi, whom read both newspaper editorials aloud, her voice taking on a very deadly tone as she progressed.
"Is this true, Goten?" she asked. "And do not dare lie to me because I will know!" she threatened.
Trunks looked to his partner in crime in absolute horror. "Hai..." he began.
"Iie, he meant iie. Right Goten, you meant no," Trunks interjected.
Bulma narrowed her eyes at her son. She focused on his mouth as he wholeheartedly defended his virtue. "NANI! Trunks you pierced you're tongue, too!?! How could you!?!"
Like a rancher inspecting possible, soon to be purchased livestock, she grabbed the demi saiyan's chin and pried his mouth open to examine his lying, pierced tongue.
"Okay Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum here's the deal. You have approximately two minutes to tell me exactly what happened last night or I will personally call the police and so help me Kami, I will let you two juvenile delinquents rot away in the youth detention center until the end of time."
Trunks knew his mother now officially meant business. He looked to Goten, whom merely nodded, and then threw in the white towel. "We didn't steal the panties, that was Master Roshi and Oolong."
"Everything else, more or less, was us," added Goten.
ChiChi glared daggers into her youngest son and for the third time that morning she belted young Goten with the skillet.
"Trunks Vegeta Briefs you will pay for all the damages you've caused. The money will be deducted from your trust fund and I will not report you to the police," Bulma informed him.
"And you," ChiChi added, "will help pay for the damages as well, perhaps Bulma-san, you could employ you little heathens as janitors at Capsule Corporation's new sky rise."
"Trunks, if I had the Ki to, I would beat you in the head until the white meat showed. But since I can't…" She walked over to the phone/intercom and paged Vegeta in the gravity room. The two briefly conversed, and then she ended the call and exited the room to return only minutes later with a bottle of orange liquid. She handing the bottle to ChiChi.
"This should remove it, call me later Chi." The dark haired woman graciously accepted the bottle. Goten in tow, she drug the poor young adolescent to the family's older model station wagon air car parked out front, all the while cursing threats and obscenities to the youth and complaining something about her blood pressure as she drove away.
The Saiyan Prince regally strode into the house, nose in the air. Addressing his mate, he spoke "What has the brat done, that requires my immediate attention, woman?"
She pushed the article into his hands. "He made the newspaper. Last night he and Goten went on a crime spree in Satan City. Read it." Vegeta skimmed both articles over and put them back on the table.
Scowling intently at his only son, he stated in his raspy voice, "These accusations are true, brat?"
Meeting his father's ebony gaze, he replied "Hai, more of less."
Vegeta snorted, crossing his arms over chest. This enraged Bulma to no end, the man's son wrecks havoc on an entire city and he just 'hmphs' and crosses his arms. "Well Vegeta, aren't you going to do something. If I had an inkling of your strength, I would put the little upstart rabble- rouser over my knee and spank his troublemaking hiney so bad that he wouldn't be able to sit down for a week and then after that I'd smack the taste out of his mouth," Bulma gritted through clenched teeth.
"Woman the Saiyan no ouji does not 'spank hineys'. What would you have me do to then to the brat, the boy is excessively mellow for a Saiya-jin adolescent. At his age, I had done more damage than either of you could possibly comprehend," he stated matter of factly.
"This is Chikyuu, not some planet Kami knows where, out at the other end of the galaxy! Here we live by laws, not anarchy. All I'm suggesting is the boy be punished, Ve-ge-ta!" she retorted.
"I see…brat, get dressed and meet me in the gravity chamber in ten minutes." Trunks grimaced and ran up the stairs to his room to change into more suitable sparring attire. "Boy!" Vegeta called after him, "leave that sword alone, a real warrior needs no weapons."
'Kuso, dad's gonna kill me. I hope I don't have to stay in the regeneration tank too long. That slimy blue liquid tastes like crap! ***Shudders*** Man, I don't get it! URGH! Mom and her stupid Sunday morning newspapers! Damn Goten and that stupid bistro and that fucking Bulma Forever tattoo. URGH!'
After changing, Trunks entered the gravity room to see his father performing a series stretches. Trunks followed suit and began to do the same.
"Tell me exactly what happened last night." Vegeta snarled.
Trunks inhaled deeply and told the entire tale of his and Goten's adventure last night. He thoroughly explained the whole account, from beginning to end, only omitting the part of Goten's henna body art.
Vegeta smirked at the boy's testimony. He even laughed at the Yamcha/weakling fornicator fiasco. After Trunks had finally concluded his story Vegeta spoke, "I presume the tongue adornment is another form of this planets odd jewelry."
"Hai otousan…more or less"
"I see, and precisely how much in damages is your mother intending on removing from you trust fund?"
"I'm not sure, maybe eighty or ninety thousand zeni," Trunks frowned.
"I see." Vegeta walked to the opposite end of the gravity enhanced training facility, motioning for Trunks to follow him. They made their way down a ladder and ended up in the bowels of the gravity ship. Trunks surveyed the room in awe. He had heard his grandfather mention that the gravity room was a ship, but he hadn't really paid it any mind. He could see that through the doorway at the other end of the room was the ship's main control and piloting functions. In the opposite direction was a closed door; he followed his father into that room. It turned out to be modest living quarters, simply a bed, desk, dresser and an adjacent bathroom. In the wall there appeared to be a safe of some sort. Vegeta stepped up to the small safe, placing his palm on it. Immediately, it hummed to life, taking a retina and fingerprint scan. The door slid open, revealing large amounts of cash and jewels along with what appeared to be a silver, diamond, and sapphire jeweled medallion.
"The permanent dye you've applied to your skin, do you know what that symbol represents?"
"I recall you telling me stories of your people, as a child. And you always have mom embroider your chest armor with the symbol. I asked her about it one day and she said it was your Vegeta-sei royal family crest."
For just the vaguest of moments Vegeta's trademark smirk turned upwards at both ends in the form of a tiny grin, although it was gone as soon as it appeared. His only approving acknowledgment to his son's tattoo.
"He removed several stacks of money and encapsulated them. Handing the capsule over to Trunks he said, "Your mother gives me this zeni, as if I had any desire to frequent one of those shopping malls," he sneered. "This should be more than sufficient amount to reimburse your trust fund. Now give me your pledge that you will not make known to your mother or to Kakarrott's idiot spawn, the events that have transpired, just now, in this room."
"Hai, otousan. You have my word," Trunks promised. "Why father? Why help me like this after all the trouble I made last night?"
Vegeta chuckled, "Brat, your actions last night were harmless and amusing. Although I wish I could have been witness to the expression on the weakling fornicator's face after you demolished his air car."
Trunks laughed at the memory, it was indeed quite humorous. Perhaps in the future he could prank the man again. Vegeta closed the wall safe and went back upstairs to the gravity enhanced training facility, followed by his demi saiyan heir. He returned to his stretches, while Trunks made his way towards the exit.
"Brat, stay here. Your mother wants you bled and I intend to oblige her." Trunks braced himself for the onslaught of Vegeta's attack. The father/son pair spent the entirety of the morning sparring or to say more truthfully, Trunks spent the sum of the morning getting his ass kicked, oh yeah, the boy would definitely be shitting white gold tipped combat boots for the next week.
~*~*~*~*~
Monday at Orange Star High School…
Trunks walked down the school's crowded hall to his morning destination, his locker. He could see his best friend and partner in crime, Goten, waiting patiently for Trunks' arrival.
"So, I see you still have your ear. I like the way you combed your hair to hide the skillet marks," Trunks jested. "You know, if we really wanted to, we could so have our folks arrested for child abuse."
Goten chuckled at his friends' joke. "Trunks, we're gonna go out again, ne?"
"Dude, of course! We just gotta wait for everything to cool down some, first. Hey, dude can you keep a secret."
"No, but tell me anyways," replied Goten.
"Remember that hot chick, Elvia Darkdragon, from the tattoo parlor?" asked Trunks, Goten nodded. "Well, I called her last night and she wants me to come over next weekend so she can teach me how to use my tongue piercing."
"What do you mean? It's just jewelry," asked Goten in confusion.
"I'm not sure but I really want to find out," Trunks smirked. "And you know what else, she asked me if I knew how to breathe through my ears."
"Wha…" Goten began, but then suddenly his pubescent hentai mind grasped the concept of Trunks words. "Ohhh…" he blushed. The two began to laugh. It was just about time for them to go to their separate homeroom classes when suddenly a pair of small hands covered Trunks' blue eyes.
"Guess who?" asked a familiar feminine voice. Using his saiyan speed, he quickly spun around to be greeted by a pair of hazel eyes and a sweet smile.
"Britney?" he asked, very perplexed.
"Duh," she giggled.
"What are you doing here?" Trunks asked.
"I go to school here, it's my first day." Trunks looked at her, slightly puzzled. "C'mon now, as if you're the only one with a fake ID."
The bell rang, signaling that school had now begun. "Gotta go, catch you later Trunks."
Turning to Goten she smiled, "Bye Trunks' friend."
"What the heck was that? First Elvia, now Britney. What's next? Blaze as my substitute P.E. teacher?" joked Trunks.
The demi saiyan, mischief-making duo again fell into a fit of laughter. "Man, you're too funny, but I gotta bail. I promised man that I'd improve my grades and apply for Harvard, for a reduced sentence."
"And she bought it?"
"Shut up Trunks, I'll catch ya later at lunch, I'm out bro." And with that, the two split up, each heading to their separate homerooms to begin a new day; to start a new week… a mischief filled week.
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The End
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A/N: So be honest, how was the ending? Did it go out with a bang? And to answer Mistress Alexa's question…Well I left it open for a sequel **snickers** I left it open for a Trunks/Elvia Darkdragon PWP too. But I wanna get my Sweet child of Mine fic finished before I entertain writing a sequel or PWP to this fic. But if I do, just leave in a review if you want me to notify ya'll if I do. Oh, and just so we're all on the same page here. PWP=lemon, so be warned. Okay, Mistress Alexa…just pack him up and send Mr. Briefs over at your earliest convenience.
~EM