Disclaimer—*standing at a chalkboard, chalk in hand, 'I DON'T OWN DRAGONBALLZ' is scrawled across the board in progressively messier script.* "I really don't think it's fair that I have to write this 10,000 times! I was just joking when I said I owned a Chibi Goten! Silly lawyers…they have no sense of humor! *returns to writing*
A/N—You know, lately I have had an INCREDIBLE fetish (don't even laugh you hentai's) for time travel fics. I've found some great ones by ladymoonlight, Proteus, and another person who's advertised at the end, but I just can't seem to find enough of them! If you guys know of a good time travel fic out there, would you PLEASE leave it in the review so I can check it out? Honestly, I'm desperate here! Thanks!
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Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, Chi-Chi had forgotten her anger over the incident and had immediately forgiven the chibi's when they revealed that they were the originators of her wonderful wedding photos. Bulma had quickly recalibrated her device, and Goten and Chibi Trunks now sat happily next to Goku, each enjoying a HUGE ice cream sundae, conveniently forgetting that it had sugar in it. Apparently their fear didn't quite extend to refusing ice cream.
From the living room, a shriek was heard, followed by a loud crash and a long string of curses. The five at the table looked at each other, and shrugged. Crashes, cursing and even the occasional shriek were rather commonplace around Capsule Corporation.
Finishing up his sundae, Goten nudged Chibi Trunks, who sighed, and thought for a moment to resist. It was, however, their duty to seek out and encourage any and all mayhem, so Chibi Trunks regretfully abandoned his sundae and walked into the living room after his friend. Running into Goten who stood stock still in the doorway, C. Trunks was surprised for a moment, but recovered quickly. Taking in the scene, his devilish little soul forgot all about the ice cream, so delighted was he at the insanity that he saw.
The only thing normal about the group in the living room was Gohan and Videl. They stood discreetly to one side, where Gohan looked like he was working hard to suppress the smile on his face. In the center of the room, stood Chibi Trunks' father, Prince Vegeta. The prince was flanked by the two Mirai's, and directly across from them, stood a man with devilish horns sticking out of his head, a long, pointy tail, and a pronged pitchfork in one hand. More, the man looked exactly like Vegeta, save for a wicked looking goatee he sported. A bit off to the side, stood a replica of Goku, with a halo and wings, and a rather more dangerous look than any Goku had ever worn off the battlefield.
Chibi Trunks couldn't help a small laugh as a golden harp floated up to eye level of the Goku look-alike, and the man shoved it away with a muttered curse.
At the sound of the laugh, King Vegeta swiveled his head around to catch sight of the purple-haired child in the doorway. Giving his son a rather incredulous glance, King Vegeta asked, "Another one?!"
Vegeta sighed, and shot a glare at Chibi Trunks as the brat dared yet another chuckle. He was really not in the mood. His long dead father had just arrived with his also long-dead-former-baby-sitter, who just happened to be the father of his greatest rival. Now King Vegeta would learn that a lowly third-class had surpassed the Prince of All Saiyans, and that Vegeta no Ouji was not the strongest being in the universe. And to top if all off, the brat had the gall to laugh at him. Narrowing his eyes, Vegeta spat out, "Gravity room. Severe beating. Possible death."
Chibi Trunks paled, and took a step back. He got the message.
King Vegeta watched the scene curiously, noting Trunks' fear-filled reaction, "Vegeta, what is this? Why would you threaten your own son like that?" King Vegeta's voice was confused, and more than a little angry. He hadn't raised his son to be an abusive bully, especially to his own children!
In response, Prince Vegeta just glared balefully at Chibi Trunks, who had already taken in the situation, and had devised a way to manipulate it to his advantage.
Looking woundedly at the floor, Chibi Trunks sighed, and clutched at one arm. Blinking, he looked up at the man he guessed to be his grandfather, and stated with an expression of long suffering bravery, "Don't worry, sir. It's ok. I know that daddy doesn't really mean it," here, he turned on the Goten eyes, guaranteed to work on any one from his mother, to Cell himself, "After all, I'm still healing from the last time…"
King Vegeta was outraged, "Vegeta, don't tell me you go around beating your own son—I know that Frieza raised you, but honestly, I would think that you'd have more class than that!"
With an enraged snarl, the prince took a step towards Chibi Trunks, before Bardock stepped in front of him, blocking his path, "Calm down, Prince. Don't do anything you'd regret later."
From behind Bardock, the evil little child with purple hair chirruped, "I'm sorry daddy, I know I wasn't supposed to tell!"
Standing slightly behind Vegeta, the original Mirai Trunks stepped up and put a soothing hand on his father's shoulder, "Calm down, dad. You know that Chibi Me is being a brat on purpose—it's in his blood." Shooting a look at his grandfather, and the slightly confused Bardock, Mirai commented, "Don't believe a word out of that kid's mouth. He's more demon than child—I don't know how it's possible that we're actually the same person."
The two Saiyan's expressions became confused. Shooting a look at Mirai Trunks, Bardock ventured a question, "Uh, you're the same person?"
Prince Vegeta restrained a groan, and roughly shrugged off Mirai's hand. He'd been hoping to save that little fact for later.
Mirai Trunks nodded, and bit his lip. How best to explain this?
Fortunate, or unfortunate, Goten decided that this was the time to make his presence known. Stepping up, he grabbed Bardock's robe in one hand and gave it a good yank to get his attention. "That's Mirai Trunks," Goten explained seriously, "he came from the future to warn ev'rybody 'bout the androids and stuff, 'n then he came back. He's my friend Trunks' future self from an al-ter-nate par-a-lell timeline." Goten smiled proudly. He'd obviously given the memorization of the words a lot of work. "And that Trunks, he's from a timeline where Gohan's really evil and rules the whole universe," At this, both chibi's turned admiring eyes towards Gohan, who blushed, and rubbed his head awkwardly, "So we call that Trunks Evil Trunks!"
At this, the Mirai Trunks in question looked offended, "Hey! I'm not evil! Gohan's the evil one!" Evil Trunks shot Gohan a glare—he still hadn't quite forgiven the poor boy.
At this, Gohan rolled his eyes, "Look. I'm not evil in this time, ok? Let's just call the one who can go Super Saiyan 'Super Trunks' and the other will just be plain old Mirai."
"What about me?"
Gohan shot Chibi Trunks a glare. "Chibi Trunks."
"Aww, Gohan!" he whined, "I don't want to be Chibi!"
Gohan paused thoughtfully for a second, "Well, I suppose we could all call you what your dad calls you…"
Trunks gulped, "Chibi will be fine." His dad had lots of names for him, of which Boy was the nicest. The others started with Brat and quickly went downhill into censorship land—he didn't think he could stand being called 'YOU &$#* little &@#!' for the duration of the other Trunks' stay.
Bardock and King Vegeta, meanwhile, had missed the end of this little conversation. They were too busy staring at Super Trunks. King Vegeta shook his head dazedly, staring at his grandson, while Bardock's gaze shifted back and forth from Super Trunks to the little mini-me still hanging on his robe.
Clearing his throat, King Vegeta's gaze left Super Trunks, and settled on his son, Price Vegeta, whose face was a mask of frustration, with perhaps just a tinge of despair, "Super Saiyan?"
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Chi-Chi looked up from sealing the very last invitation as the murmur of voices from the living room stopped. Handing it to Bulma, she poked her husband in the side, "Goku—go find out what's going on in there."
Punching in the coordinates for the Satan mansion, Bulma nodded, "Yeah, and get an estimate for repair costs while you're at it."
Sighing, Goku regretfully put down his 11th sandwich, and started for the living room.
"Oh! And tell Gohan to come here if he's in there!" Chi-Chi called after him.
"And tell Vegeta he's going to be sleeping on the couch for a month if he's blown something up again!" Bulma added.
Goku's head drooped. He had to abandon his lunch to tell Vegeta that he was going to be sleeping on the couch? What were they trying to do—get him killed? Or, at the least, very severely injured?
Goku sighed, and walked into the living room. This just didn't seem to be his day.
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In front of his vanity, Mr. Satan arrogantly adjusted his custom made afro-wig. "What do you think, Jeeves?" he asked the man standing cateringly beside him.
Jeeves surpressed a groan, and instead, replied honestly, "You look like a million zeni." After all, that's about what it had cost to convince the poor wig-maker to make the awful thing.
Hercule smirked proudly, and straightened his 'do. He had awoken a few weeks ago to find his afro gone, and his mustache singed and smoking. He didn't know how it had happened, but he was sure that Videl's explanation was incorrect—after all, he didn't remember a thing about that day—and besides, that stuff wasn't real—it was just tricks and light shows!
Reaching out for an oversized pink comb to straighten a few poufs, Mr. Satan yelped as an envelope appeared in the air right in front of him. In his hurry to get away from the evil thing, he overbalanced, falling to the floor with a crash as his chair tipped over.
Jeeves looked sadly at the 'fallen' hero. Reaching out, he caught the envelope before it hit the floor, and looked inquiringly at the hyperventilating Mr. Satan, laying on the ground. "Do you require assistance, sir?"
Mr. Satan shook his head, "Ha, yeah right, like I'd need help from you!" Suddenly a thought occurred to the 'Savior of the World'—that note—it wasn't normal. Normal notes didn't just appear out of thin air like that—it was probably a bomb or something. "Ahh, actually Jeeves, you can help me—why don't you open that letter you're holding?"
Jeeves glanced at the letter, and shrugged, ripping it open, and pulling out a card, as Hercule winced, waiting for an explosion. Reading it over, he bent down to pick up the picture that had fluttered to the floor, and handed both over to the surprised champion with a smile, "Congratulations, sir! Why didn't you tell us Ms. Videl was getting married?"
Hercule blinked, not even bothering to fix his wig which had fallen askew as he lurched to his feet. Looking down at the picture of Videl laying in Gohan's arms, he uttered an incoherent roar of rage. "She's DOING WHAT?!"
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Krillin sat on the couch, patiently. Any minute now, any minute and he was sure a little white envelope with his name on it would be popping out of thin air.
"Krillin, you're twitching."
Krillin looked up to see his wife staring at him with cool, blue eyes. "Heh, sorry 18. I was just thinking that maybe Gohan's mad at me, or something—" Krillin was cut off as the phone rang. Shaking his head, he reached over and picked it up, "Kame House, Krillin here."
"Hey, Krillin! It's Yamcha! Did you hear the news?"
Krillin sighed, "Heh, yeah, hi Yamcha. I heard."
Yamcha's was oblivious to Krillin's tone, "I got my invitation a half an hour ago, and I just couldn't think of anyone to call—wasn't that cool? It must be a new invention of Bulma's or something—they've probably got all of the invitations delivered already! I just got done talking to Tien. He said he and Piccolo were out sparring, and the invitations just appeared right there in front of them—pretty cool, huh?"
"Yeah, really cool Yamcha," Krillin sighed, trying to keep the dejection out of his voice. A beep sounded over the connection, and Krillin took the opportunity to get rid of the other man—maybe it was Bulma or Chi-Chi calling to tell him his invitation was on the way! "Hey, sorry Yamcha, I've got someone on the other line, I'll call you back, ok?"
"Alright, see you at the wedding man!" Yamcha exclaimed, before Krillin cut the connection.
Picking up the receiver, Krillin said eagerly, "Hello? Bulma, is that you?"
"Nah, sorry man," Krillin winced at the voice, "this is Yajirobe. Did you hear that Goku's kid is getting married? Yah, we were up at Kami's place, and we all got an invitation—even Dende—the kid was pretty relieved that Gohan wasn't still mad at him!"
Krillin felt close to tears—Dende got an invitation, and he didn't? "Uh, was there a reason you called Yajirobe?"
"Uh, yah, Korrin wanted me to tell you that the new crop of senzu beans is ready."
Krillin sighed, "Thanks Yajirobe, but we don't need them anymore—Gohan got through that little crisis, and everyone survived."
"Whatever." *click* At the sound of the dial tone, Krillin sniffed a bit, and hung up.
*You deserve it you know, Krillin.*
*Huh?*
*I said you deserve it—teasing the poor boy like that—you almost made him go nuts! He's taking psychiatric medication thanks to you!*
*Hey, that wasn't ALL my fault—Dende's more to blame than I am, and…wait a minute!* Krillin's mind-voice grew suspicious, *Just who the heck are you?!*
*I would think that would be obvious, Krillin,* the voice replied serenely.
*Well, it's not, so just spit it out, tough-guy!*
*I wouldn't use that tone on me if I were you Krillin—you wouldn't want to get me angry—after all, I AM your Inner Gohan.*
"Krillin? Krillin? Are you ok?" 18 waved her hand in front of her husband's dazed eyes, until he slowly looked up at her.
"I have an Inner Gohan," Krillin murmured, before falling against his wife, eyes rolled back into his head.
Picking up her husband, 18 looked just a bit worried. Maybe insanity was contagious among humans.
Holding Krillin under one arm, 18 walked into her daugher's room and scooped up Marron.
Marron giggled as 18 kicked off the sandy beach and took to the air, "Where're we going, mommy?"
18 smiled just a bit in return, "We're going to Capsule Corporation, little one."
Marron giggled and spread her arms, pretending to fly herself, and 18's smile grew a little larger. If anyone could help her husband, it was Bulma Briefs. 18 shook her head. Inner Gohan…how absurd.
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Mirai Gohan hummed happily as he packed his supplies for the trip. Leashes, collars, food for Buu and Cell? Check. Three changes of very cool, yet evil looking clothing? Check. A copy of his best selling book, 'How to Be Evil Like Me' for a wedding present? Check. Looked like everything was in order!
"Come on boys, hop in, we're going on a trip," Mirai Gohan called.
From down the halls the sound of scrambling claws resounded, accompanied by not a few screams as cumbersome servants fell to ki blast and fist. Cell and Buu scrambled around the corner, and hopped into the time machine, panting eagerly. This was going to be fun!
Taking his place in the front, Mirai Gohan inserted the key, and turned. The engine hummed for a second, then sputtered to a stop. Darn. He turned the key again. Nothing. Ignoring the disappointed looks on Cell and Buu's faces, M. Gohan hopped out, and lifted the hood. This was going to take some time.
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Goku blinked. Maybe this was all a dream—he kind of felt like he did when he'd been hit with the frying pan too hard. In front of him stood two oddly dressed men, one which looked like Vegeta, and another which looked like him! They were both staring at one of the Mirai Trunks' who was scratching his head sheepishly and looking to his father for help. Prince Vegeta just stared sullenly at the ground. "Uh, hello? Gohan, Videl, Goten? Trunks, Trunks, Trunks? Vegeta? Anyone? Who are these people?"
Prince Vegeta brightened, as he looked up to see Goku standing in the doorway. Perhaps there was some way he could share his torment! Vegeta grinned, evilly, "Well hello, Kakarott," Prince Vegeta motioned towards Bardock and the King, "This is my father, King Vegeta, and the third class behind him, is your father, Bardock."
King Vegeta and Bardock scowled at the same instant, "Vegeta," they said together, "don't you take that tone with—" grinning ironically at each other, they finished.
"…Bardock."
"…me."
Prince Vegeta scowled at the floor. Didn't it just figure that the only two people who had ever dared impose discipline on him (aside from Frieza) had to show up, and worse yet, work together? Apparently he still had a few unresolved issues from childhood.
Goku's eyes widened a bit. "You're my father?"
Bardock nodded curtly, "Yes. Now, Kakarott, what's this about Vegeta's son being a Super Saiyan?"
Goku shrugged, quickly getting over his surprise in a very Goku-ian manner. "Oh, that. We're all Super Saiyans except the second Trunks over there," he said pointing at Mirai.
"All?" Bardock choked.
"Well, me, Prince Vegeta, Chibi Trunks, Super Trunks, Goten, and Gohan are, at least." Ignoring astonished stares of their visitors from heaven, Goku suddenly gulped as he remembered his orders. "Uh, Vegeta? Bulma said to tell you that if you blew anything up, you have to sleep on the couch for the next month." Goku cringed, expecting an explosion, which never came.
Vegeta just smiled, and snorted, "Right. Like the woman could ever last for that long."
Seeing his father giving him a curious glance, Vegeta suddenly came as close to blush as he ever had. The knowing little smile on King Vegeta's face would have meant certain death for anyone else.
"So, this Bulma is your mate, Vegeta?" The king asked with a sly grin, "I'm very interested in meeting her, my son. She must be quite an interesting woman to produce children like these," he said gesturing to the purple-haired, blue-eyed Trunks'.
Gohan covered his mouth to hide a snicker. Bulma dominated in more than genetics—Vegeta was whipped.
Goku's eyes moved to his eldest son and he saw the boy smirk at Prince Vegeta's glare. "Oh yeah, Gohan. Your mom wanted me to tell you to come into the kitchen—I think it has something to do with the wedding invitations she and Bulma just finished sending out—Videl should probably go too—I don't know if she wants one, or both of you."
Gohan's face paled. "W-wedding?"
Bardock's face brightened, "My grandson's getting married? Ahh, so that female is your mate, Gohan?"
Gohan turned a sickly shade of green, as Bardock gestured to Videl, who was looking more than a little shocky herself. Nodding his head numbly, Gohan almost groaned. And here he'd thought his torment was over. He'd underestimated the number of people who were out to get him in this world. His number one enemy was still loose, armed and dangerous. With a pen, some envelopes, and an address book, she had struck hard and low.
Son Chi-Chi was her name, and her mission? Operation Grandchildren.
*** ^_^ Ahh, poor Gohan! R&R please! And don't forget those time travel fics!***
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