Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or the characters, yada yada yada, someone else does, but I can't remember or spell the name (I suck at spelling!) so.....

(Ah, and it comes to a time after the Buu Saga....(I haven't seen anything past the 218.0 episode, so.....I'm just taking a guess though I heard rumor that Vegeta dies....I think I'm missing on something here cause I'm wondering if the rest of the Buu Saga is even finished being translated in North America....Anyway, I'm going to assume that Buu is destroyed and everyone's OK....it wont matter, because this fanfic has got nothin' to do about earth or super-evil genious villains trying to destroy it! hehehe....)

(IMPORTANT YOU MUST READ THIS: Anyway, this is my first crossover, Yep, that's right. I'm crossing over with Dragon Ball Z and Final Fantasy IX. None of the characters are OOC that much, I hope, and I'm writing this according to how they talk and act on the show, not how people assume they should....am I making sense? You'll see what I mean....Now, what will happen when the characters form DBZ and FF9 meet???)
(NOT IMPROTANT DO NOT HAVE TO READ IF NOT INTERESTED IN MY COOL COMPARISONS: Don't you notice, that if you compare the chars from both, they kinda relate to each other? Zidane is like Goku, outgoing, friendly, and funny.....though Goku's kinda, well.....never mind. Eiko's like both Goten and Trunks. Smart, like Trunks, and strong, yet always exited about everything, hehe....Amarant is DEFINITELY the best to compare to Vegeta, I mean, they're both secluded and higstrung, yet, I think Vegeta might be a little TOO highstrung, but....anyway. Krillin is....well. Vivi. How? I dunno....*thinks about it* It's not easy to say....just popped into my head like that, somehow...Freya....hmmmm.....i'll get back to her. Oh yeah, Vegeta has a kind of Steiner in him too....Wait! Allow me to explain! hehe, I mean, the only thing that is alike about them is that Steiner is all "I am a knight, and I am sworn to blahblahblah...." and Vegeta is like "I am a Saiyin prince and I will not tolerate this!".........yyyeah, you get the idea. Freya.....ah...is like Piccolo, in a sense that is hard to descride. Quiet, and a little secluded, like Amarant. Actually Piccolo might be a better comparison for Amarant, dont you think? Oh well, and oh yeah! Dagger....hmmm...she's a mix between ChiChi and, well, Videl. Tough fighter, doesn't take much nonsense, and yet is pretty sensiteve, and head-over-heels for Zidane, like ChiChi is for Goku, and yes, you gotta admit it, just like Gohan can't get his mind off of Videl. *grin* I don't think i have a comparison for Quina. S/he like to eat, like Goku, Trunks, Gohan, Vegeta, and Goten, right? There you go. That pretty much wraps it up, I suppose....I hope I haven't missed anyone important.)

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(Thank you, Blood Sinned, whoever and wherever you are, bless your soul, and you too Ornery-chan! Unlike some skimmers, they LIKED my Final Fantasy 9 fanfics! So did a lot of other people, of course....ah, right. RUSTY! You're just MEAN! Thanks for the *weak applause* and "apology" in my poem's review....but, I'm serious, if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all, ok? Yeah.)
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"Now stay tuned for these messages! We'll be right ba-"

The disgruntled saij-in warrior silently picked up the little box that Bulma called a "remote", and pressed the strange, red button in the corner. The TV blinked off. Placidly, Vegeta stood up and left the room, not before he aimed a final, apprehensive glare at the "noisy, useless piece of junk." It was 2:00 in human standards, and there was never anything interesting on, save Bulma's "soaps". The saij-in prince narrowed his eyes. "The Young And The Restless" had absolutely no point to it. No explosions, no fighting, besides some verbal disagreements. Just a lot of screwed up "love" lives."

He brushed past Bulma, as he entered the kitchen. Surprised, the blue-haired woman spun around to watch his retreating back, and crossed her arms indignantly.

"Excuse me? Where are you going? I was just about to join you, you know."

Vegeta glanced over his shoulder and smirked, "Join yourself. I have some training to do."

Bulma huffed impatiently, "Oh, I see, you couldn't find anything being destroyed on television, so you're going to go do some yourself."

This time, the warrior turned around, still wearing his ignorant smirk, "That was the general idea, woman."

But Bulma just shrugged, "If you break the gravity machine, you sleep on the couch."

Vegeta was not one to be told what to do, "Sounds reasonable. If I break the gravity machine, you sleep on the couch."

For several seconds, Bulma felt somewhat overwhelmed, that is, until she realized that Vegeta had merely repeated her word for word. "Hey! Wait! Youc an't DO that!" She cried, and dove after him as he exitted the house.

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"And the winner is.....Goten!" ChiChi cried, and busrt out laughing. Goten and Gohan both stood outside in the yard. Gohan looked as if he'd just finished being mauled by Cell, but Goten was standing, unscathed, and innocent, with his arms still folded at his sides with his fists clenched.

"You little rascal," Gohan managed to laughed through his heaves of breath. "You weren't supposed to use an energy blast."

"Oh," said the little saij-in. "Sorry."

Videl stood beside ChiChi, her arms folded, "Huh. Gohan's still stronger."

ChiChi suddenly looked horrified, "What? I'm not supposed to be cheering them on! GOHAN!!! You're gonna HURT MY LITTLE GOTEN!!!"

Gohan, still looking a little blinded from Goten's energy, walked towards the two woman, with a little waver. Goten beamed behind him, "Aw, c'mon Gohan. You're not gonna give up now, are you?"

The half-saijin turned around and grinned sheepishly, "You train with mom....Uh, I'm gonna go and see if Trunks wants to train with us."

"But!" protested Goten.

ChiChi crossed her own arms, looking rather like Videl, "That's not a good idea, Gohan. It's late, and supper's almost ready, and-"

"Yay!" Goten began hopping up and down. "Trunks's coming over!"

"C'mon, Goten, me and you can fight!" said Videl, stepping forward. "Just remember, I'm no saij-in, so no energy blasts!"

"Hmmm...." ChiChi thought aout loud.

"They'll be fine, mom," Gohan assured, and grinned again. "Well, bye!"

"Waiiit!" ChiChi called after him, as he took to the sky. "What about supper???"

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Gohan touched down on the soft grass outside of Capsule Corp. and stretched his back for a moment. Goten's energy blast must have done something to it. But he really didn't think that it mattered. If they had Trunks over, they could have a little competition. Maybe even Vegeta would care enough to join them. It was likely. If it involved sparring, then Vegeta would be a little less than glad to join them.

"Hey Gohan. What were you doing here?"

Gohan turned around and smiled a greeting when he saw Trunks leaning against the side of the capsule behind him. He looked a little fatigued, and the towel handing around his shoulders was soaked. But he still held that mature, aware look in his eyes amd the half-smirk on his face.

"Hi, Trunks," said Gohan, rubbing the back of his neck, thoughtfully. "Uh, I was just wondering if you wanted to come spar with us, you know, have a little competition with me and-"

"No, he cannot."

Gohan nearly jumped, when Vegeta emerged from behind the corner. He looked a little bit less annoyed than he usually did. Perhaps he'd had a good day. Perhaps not, for the next thing Gohan knew, the saij-in prince had whipped the sweaty towel into his face. Stunned, Gohan caught it as it dropped off the end of his nose.

"Don't just stand there, state your business," ordered Vegeta. "Unless your sole intention was to abduct my son to play one of your silly games."

"Hey, dad, can Gohan stay for dinner?" Trunks asked plaintivly, peering up at him.

"No, that's all right Trunks," said Gohan, narrowing his eyes. "Mom, I mean -- ChiChi expects me home for dinner tonight. You're sure you don't want to come, Vegeta?"

The saij-in snorted, "I thought you were here for Trunks, boy."

"I was, but I thought you'd be interested in fighting, too, Vegeta," Gohan replied. "You know, me agianst you, Trunks against-"

"Ha!" barked the saij-in prince. "Trunks would crush that runt before he could power up! And you fightnig against me? Don't make me laugh, boy!"

"Vegeta-"

"I spar only with my son and Kakarot!" spat the saij-in. "Let us go, Trunks. You mother has our supper ready."

Trunks, though looking a bit unnerved about his father's icy tone, obeyed without hesitation. Only when the saij-in prince and his son had passed Gohan, and had begun to head for the building, did Trunks turn around and give Gohan an apologetic look. Noticing that Vegeta had also stopped, and was glaring at him, the saij-in boy quickly picked up his pace and ran ahead of his father

Gohan watched them disapper through the house's front door, and shook himself form his dazed anger. Forgetting that he'd wanted to say hello to Bulma, he took off into the air, and didn't look back as he flew towards home again.

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~Sometimes, in a seldom order, a person will begin to think about other worlds, and different people. Others would scoff at them, and describe in verbal, nasty ways about how insane that brilliant thinker had to be, to believe such a thing. Then again, comes the time where there is the odd companion, or stranger that would agree. They would agree if they shared the same belief, or if they doubted the possibility as much as those other people, the tormentors. We believed the same. Or, at least, I believed the same.~

"Yo, Mr. Flaming Amarant, your ride is here, pal."

Almost startled, the former bandit dropped his quill. He almost dropped the little booklet in his left hand as well, but his reflexes took care that problem. Clutching the pages so hard that they almost tore, Amarant turned to see Corroc standing behind him, leaning against the platform wall. The rookie thief grinned, and nodded towards the gargant, who was busily chowing down on it's snack.

Corroc picked himself up, and peered curiously at the notes in Amarant's hand, "Funny, since when did you become a writer?"

"I'm not a writer," said Amarant, tucking the notebook and quill (a handy item he'd, well, stolen from some place he couldn't remember) in a pocker. "Forget it."

The theif shrugged, "Well, get on before the damned insect decides meal time is over."

Amarant glared at his companion, who'd he'd only met four days ago. He began to step onto the gargant's basket, when the thief's voice stopped him, "Are you really going to go? Man, I thought you were just joking all along."

Skeptically, Amarant turned around again, aiming a curious look at the thief.

Corroc grinned beneath his long, black bangs, and ran his fingers through his hair, "Well, if you're serious about it, you'll need someone to look after you, won't you?"

The former bandit crossed his arms, "No, you're going to stay here, and you're not going to complain about it."

"Right," said Corroc. "Just try and stop me."

Suddenly, Amarant gestured towards something behind the theif's shoulder and snorted, "I thought there was only one gargant. Is this some kind of joke?"

Confused, Corroc spun on his heel to face the "gargant" behind him, "Wha-"

Now that the thief was relievingly distracted, Amarant climbed into the basket, at the prescise moment the gargant took off. Gripping the side of the basket to steady himself for the rough launch, he turned himself to see the form of a very irritated Corroc and heard that man shout with a quickly fading voice, "You can't get rid of me that easily!"

"Next time, don't fall for something so stupid," said Amarant, under his breath. Then he turned around, and sat himself comfortabley in one of the seats. He smirked and shook his head, thoughtfully, "Too easy."

After about a minute or two of deciding, he sighed and unpocketed his notebook again, and whipped the quill out at the same time. Pausing slightly, with the tip of the pen hovering oer the paper, he began to write.

~I can't alarm everyone with what I've discovered. Of all people, it had to be me. Of course, it would be pretty sad if I sent news like this through a moogle. Those things are damned lazy, anyway. If only there was a quicker way to get to Alexandria, not that I don't mind a ew hours of peace and quiet. Why am I doing this? This is great, I'm asking myself a question on paper. I might as well be talking to myself. I'm doing this because of him. Because I owe him, not because I care about what his precious home planet has become. I don't know if he'll be happy to hear me out or not. Perhaps it's best I tell Dagger first, or spread a rumour around town. It might prepare him for the worst. I can't blame him this time, though gods know I've tried. I'll keep this between you and me, little book. Just so long as you can keep a secret. Terra is alive. And there is someone asking me, of all the people it has the tendancy to contact, to help them.~

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(No, Amarant has NOT softened up. Trust me, when you read the next chapter, all the irony and sarcasm he might be lacking this time will be made up for. And no, the sotry will not be all about him, though that's pretty much all you could expect from me, hehehe. More characters will slide into place when the next chapter goes up. And the actual crossover is going to take place soon, so....donta worry....^_^)