"...you know, you CAN go faster than this Gohan, I think we should try and get there before the sun sets."

"Uh-er I-uh-I don't want you slipping Videl-san!"

"Gohan, go faster."

"Um, aheh, o-ok...-"

"Gohan, I swear I'm going to strangle you to death! It's not like I'm going to pop if you fly faster than 4 mph!"

"Uh, ok, uh sorry!" The saiyajin boy was slightly scatter-brained, but that was more likely due to the proximity of the girl rather than her temper. She had insisted on changing back into her "normal" clothes, since she'd rather die than look ladylike or give him any sort of feeling that she had dressed up specifically for him. That'd be just fine with Gohan except for the fact that she insisted on wearing extremely small, tight-fitting black spandex shorts, which gave him a sort of feeling that she had put those on specifically for him. Worse, he was obliged to loosely hold her legs to keep her from falling. He was so proud of his arms for not shaking, he could've just screamed.

He wasn't particularly accustomed to this, and she didn't make it any better by shifting so much. If his stomach was pointed upward instead of downward, one could completely misinterpret what she was doing. The unwanted image of a horse or pack mule seem to spring to his mind, whenever he could coerce a coherent thought out of it besides "Wow, she's really warm, and boy she smells good!" Of all the things that he trusted the most, why had his honorable valiant, and otherwise reliable nose betrayed him into smelling wonderful things, things that he couldn't eat, or at least not without walking away missing various crucial parts of his body.

Oh and, naturally, he just HAD to have an itchy back when he couldn't scratch it. WHY an itchy back? If it was almost any other spot, he could scratch it harmlessly, but no, it had to be his back, just beyond the happy reach of his arms, and obstructed by The Mistress Slavedriver.

The corners of his mouth began to twitch nervously. Life just wasn't fair to him at all. He promised himself that if Chance and Fate were actually living, breathing deities, probably the Kais, he would devote his afterlife to finding them and permanently embedding their faces in a hot stainless steel anvil.

"Gohan, I said SPEED UP! Come on already! *Kick*"

"Huh? OW!" She was even kicking him like a horse.

He was quite certain that, if he were three or four years older, he'd be thinking angsty thoughts about impossible romance, Love Poetry, dashing poses, charming smiles, gorgeous private waterfalls, or heroic acts of bravery against some contrived opponent for the sole purpose of impressing her. Right now, as a sensible 14-year old who had gone to other planets and fought to the death against things 20 times his size, a good solid temper and some very sharp-heeled tennis shoes worried him more. At least right now.

"Man, I geuss that drink really did get to you." She frowned as she adjusted herself again, "You know, for the amount of food you eat, you're as thin as a rail. How is that?"

"Good metabolism?" Gohan suggested mildly.

"Lord, I HATE that answer. You get to eat whatever the hell you want, and I have to watch my weight. There's absolutely no justice; we have to undergo painful dieting, pregnancy, and other fun girlish traits, while YOU. You....oh never mind, you've probably heard all this before."

Blink blink.

Videl sighed, "Well, anyway come on, GO FASTER." Her voice cracked like a whip.

"Yes ma'am." He thrust back with his energy a bit more, propelling himself forward. Flying had been a staple of his life for as long as he could remember, so he was always a little astonished at how much Videl tended to enjoy it. A quick glance up showed her head thrust forward a bit, face colored with a small smile and sparkly eyes. He smiled warmly; she was nice to be around when she was happy. She seemed to notice him after a second, and she glared at him and flushed, "Well, can I enjoy the ride or what? You fly so damn slow I should---I--wipe that grin off your face or I'll break your ribs!"

Gohan didn't so much as snicker, and carefully turned his head. He'd heard THAT tone from Goten before, normally when he sincerely tried to convince his mom that he never sucked his thumb. The temper tantrum afterwards, of course, was focused on him.

Then, out of nowhere, he had a rather fun little idea. He wasn't sure what the results would be, but hell, she owed him a few for that helicopter ride....



Bulma rubbed her temples grumpily. She could feel a massive migrain rearing up like a tidal wave, and the very last thing she needed was this bound-to-be-planet-endangering-disaster problem.

Couldn't they go more than a few years without SOMETHING happening?

Most women had normal husbands and normal families that didn't build robots, didn't have three year olds that could theoretically blow up the planet, or family and friends that could eat an entire city out of food, and the buildings around the food. Or attract catastrophe like flies to the world's biggest half-empty honey jar.

She always had trouble with meeting other women; whenever they'd start complaining about stress, she'd start laughing hysterically.

"Are you sure it was a Dragonball, dad?" she asked for the tenth time.

"Absolutely postive, sweety!"

"Don't call me sweety," she said absently. "Well, the fact that 6 of them are all in one spot is disturbing, but it might just be Tien or something."

Vegeta scowled. "I don't think so. We'd have felt him by now."

Bulma sighed. The discussion hadn't really gone anywhere in the last half an hour, but she really didn't want to call for the others, and she DEFINITELY didn't want Vegeta near the Dragonballs. She still didn't entirely trust him when it came to possible immortality. It wasn't that long ago that he'd threatened to blow up the planet.

Then a sudden thought struck her, "Did Trunks see anything? He was home too, he might know something."

Dr. Briefs scratched his black cat's ears absently, "I didn't really ask him, he was too busy tying things in knots."

"Tying things in knots?"

"Yeah, I was very busy cleaning up after him you know. Had to replace some of the furniture, too."

Bulma called out into the hall, "Trunks, honey, would you come here for a second!"

"What did I do!?" floated back down the hallway.

Vegeta roared, "Get in here or you'll be training at 120x today!" As loud thumps flew to the door, he turned to smirk at Bulma, "You have to show your whelp who's in charge, woman."

She rolled her eyes up and to the right as Trunks waddled in, face a small mask of terror. "OK, ok, I'm here, don' hurt me!"

"You'll learn to keep your mouth shut when we call-!"

Bulma cut through smoothly, "Honey, did you see anyone who might've taken a pretty little orange pearl from grandpa's lab?"

Trunks's little face concentrated very seriously, in that infinitely funny sort of way, and then he beamed in rememberance, "Oh yeah! it was those two ninjy guys that came and helped me learn how to tie a knawt."

"Ninjy guys," Bulma said flatly.

"Yup! Mr. Shao taught me how to tie a knot and gave me my watch! The other one was kinda mean though, she wanted to leave so badly, for some reason. They were funny!"

To her credit, Bulma did not twitch one eyebrow nor seriously consider throwing her son into the dishwasher. "You need to tell us these things honey. Shao and Mai huh? I thought those two'd been killed by Daimou..."

"Sorry, I kinda forgot," Trunks stated cheerfully

Vegeta was not nearly so patient. "You 'kinda forgot', huh? I'll teach you to 'kinda forget.'"

Bulma stood up, "Now look Vegeta, these two aren't anything even remotely resembling a threat! Not yet, anyway. They aren't strong enough to lift an large book, let alone blow up the sun like everyone else in this godforsaken fighting club!"

"I don't care about that, the brat's gotta learn to respect his betters. TRUNKS! We're going straight to the training room---TO SPAR!"

Both Trunks and Bulma gasped. Then Trunks started to wail, "NO, PLEASE, NO MORE SPARRING, PLEASE, I'LL TAKE 500x GRAVITY, BUT NO SPARING!! WAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!" Vegeta's expression didn't change a whisker, seeing as how he wasn't a cat. Trunks was growing increasingly desperate, and then he saw the object on the table, the only object that would be of any importance, as it turned out. His eyes lit up. Without so much as a backword glance, he snatched the DB-radar and ran out, screaming "You may get me but you'll never see the Dragonball Ra-dart ever again!"

"GET BACK HERE!!!" Vegeta roared, but Trunks wouldn't even heed his words anymore. "Thanks," Bulma said icily, "I don't know what I'd do without you. Maybe I'd even get something done before distaster struck."



The first thing that came to mind was, "I'm hungry." Well, actually, that's probably not true, the first thing that came to mind was the pretty color of the rock in front of him. Then, "I'm hungry." Regardless, the third and quite permanent thought that settled in was, "How exactly will I die? Claws or fangs?"

The certain satisfaction he'd taken was silly, verging on childish, but every time he'd started feeling guilty, he remembered that a) she'd tried to kill him in a helicopter and b) she HAD asked for it. Besides, he'd never really thought about how much variety he could put into his flying. He could do barrel-rolls, flips, rapid cork-screws, and occasionally those excitingly tight turns that you make right before slamming into immobile objects. Sometimes he even flew upside-down, like he was lying down on a comfortable bed of air.

Videl's screaming had persisted throughout the whole thing, and his cheery "You-asked-for-it"'s were met with screeched curses. Actually, her vocabulary was quite colorful and full of variety; she could probably go on for an hour without repeating herself. Though he'd wished that she'd stop pounding his back.

Then he decided, despite all of his intelligence and rational thinking patterns, amd completely demolishing years of patience and care through tough battles, to try and show off by doing something stupid. Not just stupid. "Macho" stupid.

He flew at a low angle right into a big forest, going slow in that he hadn't yet broken the sound barrier. Yet, despite some admitedly impressive evasions, his leg eventually clipped a tree. The first thing that struck him was the sudden lack of space between him and the ground. What struck him after that was about fifty yards of underbrush, a couple trees, and a small but quite solid mountain.

Videl had fallen in the lake right before. He could tell, because of a small but growing puddle (which hoped some day to be a lake like its dad), right next to him. And the tapping foot. Maybe I should just play dead.

"You know, to be quite honest, you'd think that a 400mph collision with about half of a forest would kill someone."

He flinched, face thankfully hidden by the small pile of dirt it was burried in. "Um," said his muffled voice, "Can we just pretend this didn't happen..."

Videl started dragging him by his legs out of the rather long tunnel in the rock, at a average-pace, but with the kind of stride that just dares you to try and stop it. Water sprayed off her shirt and down his back. "If you hadn't dropped me into that LAKE, I'd be DEAD right now, you know."

He started grabbing at various chunks to slow the progress, but Super Strength has no function when gripping onto Loose Rocks. Desperation set in. "Um....I'm only a little boy, I dunno better!"

Videl actually stopped for a second. "You know, that REALLY sounded like a small, whiny child. That's impressive. Had practice?" The Death March then continued.

"Would you mind if I just lied here for a while? This is nice, soft rock."

"You're actually really light, you know that? You should eat mor----PSHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, sorry, I almost said something really stupid."

She finally pulled him out into the sunlight and dropped his legs. "Well, actually, despite the threat of a very quick and painful death, that was kind of fun. Wish I could do that. If I could fly, though, I wouldn't make mistakes like that!"

"Yes, haha, funnn-GNNNGH!"

See, there are visions, and then there are Visions. This Vision, one of Videl standing in sunglight in wet spandex shorts and a wet, translucent white teeshirt, would've made even the worldliest, most girl-desensitized guy stutter, and most probably need a good cold glass of water to regain his senses. Gohan was, in this sort of situation, on the other side of the worldly scale. He being not yet fully of age, and having a somewhat sensitive nature to these sorts of things didn't help either. This was having a comparable effect on him as that of an upset elephant in a china shop with a sledgehammer caught in its trunk.

Videl continued talking, "You know, I suppose I should've been afraid for my life or something like that, but there was this feel to it--get up please--and I honestly can't think of one thing I've done in my life that is more exhilerating." She took a deep breath of fresh air, (the elephant stampedes through the Tea Set Aisle). "You ok? Your face looks like you hit it hard. It's really rather red, do you want some ice? I must say that I'M a bit sore myself, and I DON'T fly." She stretched a sore back muscle by bending backwards, arms above her head (it tosses aside the sledgehammer, and picks up a flamethrower.)

She continued mercilessly in midstretch, "You're shaking a great deal too. And I'M the one who got DRENCHED, can you tell? You know, the robo-baby probably didn't like that all that much, but it already has a bullet in its head and mud all over it. I suspect the hit didn't--are your eyes ok? They look kind of swollen, and your pupils went all tiny."

"Ngh---ngggh--"

"What IS the matter with you? What, do I have something hanging out of my nose? Oh for gods sake open your eyes, I'm not THAT mad, ok?"

He wanted to say, Hey Videl, you're wearing a painfully wet white T-shirt that I can see through, the area underneath it is currently causing widespread fires and explosions in my mental psyche, various small and hitherto ignored saiyan instincts are screaming at me to do Bad Things, oh and did I mention that you forgot to put on an undershirt this morning?

Somewhere in the path from his brain to his mouth, the words became, "O-o-o-kay..."

He had hardly stood up before she latched back onto his back (the clerk and staff flee screaming from a fiery shower of plate shards). The boy tried to make a whimpering noise. "Geez, you know, this shirt is really pretty wet. The coldness seeps through right to the skin. Would you mind if you flew slowly, I don't want this to rip off or anything *RIIP*. Uh oh."

The sigh was inaudible, but the *THUD* could be heard from miles away.

Then there came an irritated voice that was nearly as loud, "That hurt, dammit! I think you ripped the baby's shirt even more!"



Pilaf stared at the six dragonballs he'd collected and sighed moodily. Aside from a few setbacks with the army itself, everything was going splendidly. So what the hell was bothering him so much?

The plan'd probably work. Goku couldn't face all of them at the same time, once he got things rolling. The spies were working all right, and, even better, the famous Satans were completely unaware of everything. The "Gold Fighter" hadn't been seen in a few weeks, and Pilaf suspoected the whole thing had been made up. The part with the three year old in the lingerie store was a bit too much.

So, no problems.

He sighed again. That was the PROBLEM. Everything was going too easily, with too much manpower. There wasn't any sense of accomplishment! No diabolical laughter! No idiotic sidekicks! No plan-wrecking heroic escapes! He felt more alone with his army than he had with just Shao and Mai, who now only saw him a couple times a week. Instead of mysterious castles, he had a little office at the edge of the army's camp.

There weren't any of the familiar people he'd come to know and hate! And the new breed of "heroes" was a disgrace! Hercule Satan had turned out to be little more than a muscled baffoon who was about as smart and brave as pork roast. His daughter was far more clever, but too selfish and distractable to actually put two and two together about the maid. The Briefs, once a real thorn in his side, were apparently too busy arguing amongst themselves to be any threat, and God knows what had happened to Son Goku (he actually did know, but that's beside the point).

It wasn't any---any FUN without Goku!

Where was he to screw things up? Where were those lovable yet utterly foolish friends of his that he would always save in the nick of time?

He'd spent countless years of his long and foolish life seeking world domination, and now he had it right in his hands, without any sort of threat to it. Unfortunately, this wise train of thought, one incredibly rare in as small a mind as Pilaf's, was nearing the end of its run, and would momentarilly be replaced by dreams of young female servants and personal chefs.

Quite frankly, he felt old. There wasn't even a wacky slapstic comical thing happening to him, as the scene faded out....



Elsewhere....

Let the camera focus on a land far off, far away, indeed, farther than the reach of any spaceship. This was the Afterlife, ruled over by the proud wise sages called the Kais, as well as the Grand Kai.

Well, actually, this is not entirely true. The Grand Kai did very little aside from sit in his chair and cheer on local Afterlife Tournaments. The infamous Northern Kai was a large and rather bothersome creature with an annoying sense of humorand a talent for gloating, and the Southern Kai was a pompous braggart to whom the word "gracious loser" was a collection of pretty syllabels. The East Kai was a tyrant beyond even stereotypical literary standards in her treatment of her fighters, and the west Kai was a dwarf with an eye-glass and an extremely exaggerated notion of his ability as a martial arts trainer.

Daiou, though hard-working, wasn't exactly brilliant, and tended to decide the Fates of Souls (Heaven/Hell) on whether or not he'd eaten well that morning. The supreme Kais and above may very well have been wise and brave, but absolutely no one knew who they were, where they were, and what they did. So, essentially, the heavens weren't exactly perfect. But they worked.

The two important dieties, in recent events, were the North and West Kais. Both, as previously mentioned, were as pompous and silly as the others, yet they had risen beyond them through their students.

Goku is self-explanatory. His very existance caused massive battles, ridiculous odds, and terrible explosions. Each footstep he made in the Universe caused shockwaves felt by all the higher dieties (Which gave them terrible headaches. This wouldn't change even after his death, in fact, many often complained that it had grown worse). The Great Story had finally passed him on, leaving a brief but fiery chapter in its path. Yet, elected as a sort of Demi-God in that he can easily destroy all the Kais and all of hell at about quarter-power, he still appeared in The Footnotes and even occasionally as A Cameo.

Sometimes, for fun, he would hang around Mr. Satan's Ouija board and spell out things like, "Hey, can you cook some food for me? Kaiou-sama doesn't really cook very well. Oh, and Cell sends his regards, says he can't wait to see you. Ciaou! -Goku-" (Mr. Satan would later be found hiding in the pantry, eating stale marshmellows and gibbering about his absolute, unaided victory against Cell. People would shake their heads and say, "only a true hero could've gone through such a horrible battle like that.")

Pikehan, the West student, was a mystery and a paradox. He was very similar to Piccolo, except that he posessed none of the Namekian's explosive rage. He respected Goku, the only opponent he'd ever had that truly defeated him. No one else really interested him all that much. His character, indeed, could be compared to that of the calm after a terrible thunderstorm.

He was, at this point, being taught how to play "Old Maid" by Goku and the North Kai. And bubbles.

"I'm the WHAT? AGAIN?"

"Well," said Goku pleasantly, "You keep taking the card without looking, and Bubbles has a tendency to cheat sometimes."

"OOK!"

"*SNORT* That reminds me of a funny. See there's this accountant and he comes up to a flower-"

"Please," Pikehan pleaded, "No more jokes!"

"OOOOK OOOK AAAK!"

"Hey, I'm a Kai, you know, what gives you the right to speak this way! Lousy west Kai, teaches no respect-"

"I could theoretically blow all of you up."

"I'm already dead, you know, thanks to GOKU!"

Goku laughed "EEheheheh....come on guys, this is just a friendly game of cards!"
"OOOK!"

Little did Pikehan know that, before this card game ended, something quite drastic would happen to him.


To Be Continued....



Finally started the damn thing again. Hope you enjoyed it! Review if y'like, I appreciate the feedback, as always.