Momma's Girl II
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball Z belongs to someone other than me, and I make no money from this at all.
Note: AU, weirdness, and assumes GT never happened. Hints at yaoi.
Son Panpipe, affectionately referred to as Imp-chan, rubbed her eyes and looked up from where she had been doodling in her notebook. History was usually one of the fifteen-year-old's favorite subjects, but her professor this term was a conspiracy nut. He claimed that aliens had tried numerous times to take over the world, that there was a giant dragon god that granted wishes, Mr. Satan had not defeated Cell, and that the government was run by Elvis.
Snorting to herself, she thought she could concede the last point MIGHT be true.
However nutty he might be, though, he was also good at teaching the facts, but his pet theories sometimes got out of hand…
Then her eyes riveted on the screen.
Two fighters, one who had the same spiky hair as she did, only black, was faced off against a turban and cloaked green form. This reflexively caused her to run her hand over her thick braid…
"Though it was later revealed that this is the son of Ma, the creature that killed many… And it was feared that his son would follow in his footsteps."
Imp-chan blinked as she looked at the screen. Why did they keep saying that the green one was evil? His father had been killed, and the child was not guilty for his parent's crimes. Besides, the green figure (did they say his name was Piccolo?) didn't seem evil. He looked angry, surely, but not evil. Confused, hurt, but not evil.
"Why am I the only one who can see that?" Imp muttered, looking around the classroom, while her fellow students listened.
The tape, which the professor had made himself, changed to a different time and footage. This time, it was what he claimed to have been the fight several earth warriors had with aliens from space. Imp's eyes nearly bugged out. Ignoring everything else- she saw her father.
Granted, he was much, much younger- maybe five. But he was standing there, looking determined, next to the tall green man whom they had seen earlier.
"I am guessing that Ma jr. was in league with the aliens, whom I have later found, were called Saiya-jins, in attempting to take over this planet…"
"No- she cares too much about the kid," Imp found herself saying, and the professor frowned.
"And what makes you think that? Given his father's track record, he was probably going to eat him!"
Imp clamped her mouth shut, lest her temper get her into more trouble. Her nickname, other than Imp, was the "Tripping Terror," thus called for her ability to fall into trouble all the time. She had commented to herself and others, often, it was a good thing her mother had taught her martial arts; otherwise, she might have killed herself.
Compassion, however, ran through her as she looked at Ma Jr.
Other videos were shown, many of them with Ma jr. in them. All of them with those crazy martial artists… and her grandfather.
"But, when did he start dyeing his hair blond?" she muttered, blinking and rubbing her eyes over and over again, as if that would help her see her grandfather with his proper hair color.
The Cell games, what was recorded of them, anyway, wound down to a close, and Imp was vastly relieved they didn't have to watch that hokey recreation- for one thing, the acting was bad. For another… she doubted that was what happened. She didn't know why, though.
Grumbling, the lights came back up, and she stood up to stretch. It was the last class of the day, and she was right next to the exit, if she wanted to make a dash to freedom.
Which, right now, she didn't.
"Mr. Camp?" she asked, when the rest of the students had left the room. The rather kooky teacher with the awful comb over looked down at her from his place at the desk.
"Yes?" he asked testily.
"Can I borrow that tape of yours?" she asked, hoping he was in a good mood.
"Heh heh heh. No."
Imp blinked, her face completely blank, because she was so stunned.
"But you can get access to some of the sources I used in the school and public libraries. In fact, if you do a good enough job, I might give you some extra credit."
"But, Mr. Camp, I don't need any-"
"Now, go away."
Imp blinked again- and turned around to walk out. That guy was just too weird.
~*~*~*~*~
A few hours later, Imp was glaring at the librarian in front of her. She was not going to let Imp check out all the tapes that she had found containing the footage that Mr. Camp had used…
"Damn," she swore softly, and put the two tapes she was allowed back in her carryall. Growling, she trotted out the door of her school and down the street, never slowing her ground-devouring lope.
She smirked as she made her way past several of her classmates. Those were the ones that made fun of her often because of her seeming inability to keep from falling over or getting into trouble. But Imp had inhuman stamina. She could run forever, it seemed, and never get winded. Even her parents- who were amazing athletes themselves, never seemed to be able to outrun her.
The apartment building they lived in was a couple of miles away, meaning she had no trouble getting there, before jogging the stairs. Her mother had insisted she do that, over and over and over again, even though they lived on the 12th floor.
A moment unlocking the door, another getting in and popping the tape in, and the next making popcorn for her growling stomach. While she didn't eat QUITE as much as her father- she still ate a lot. Imp sometimes wondered how her mother could eat so little- she seemed to live off water and air.
Imp plunked herself down, and started to forward the take, looking carefully at the faces of the famous tape of the Cell Games…
Grandpa was there, certainly… and so was her dad. His hair was yellow, too.
"Okay," she muttered, eyes glued to the screen. "Dad has a doppelganger, who has blond hair…"
Absently she twiddled her thick hair between her fingers as she thought. It had come free of its braid, and while spiky on top, specifically the bangs, was long and luxuriant to her waist. Playing with her hair helped her think… and she was at an absolute roadblock.
"What now? Call up grandpa and ask him what he was doing at the Cell Games?"
She bit her lip. This would be the course most likely to get her information… She snickered. "I can pry just about anything out of Grandpa if I try hard enough. But he might not want to talk about it… and I need to make sure first…"
Imp went from twiddling her hair to tugging and earlobe. "Would Mom know? She would know more about Dad's life than me. She didn't seem to be involved…"
Imp nodded to herself. She needed to ask a neutral party first, to see what she was getting in to.
~*~*~*~*~
Son Clarinet walked into the apartment she shared with her husband and daughter, and headed to the kitchen to drop off the two-dozen pizzas she had ordered to take the edge of her family's voracious appetite.
"Hey, Mom!" shouted a voice, and Clair looked over at her teenage daughter, who took the pizzas, not realizing who much strength she showed just by carrying them without thought. She couldn't help but smile in pride as she shrugged off her coat and put it up, revealing her gun holster.
Detective Son Clarinet smirked slightly. She'd never seen herself doing this for a job, if she ever had one at all, but it worked well for her…
"How are you doing, Imp?" she asked her daughter, who stopped and turned to look over her shoulder.
"Mr. Camp had us watch more of his conspiracy tapes," Imp answered, before tearing into one of the pizzas.
"So?"
"Well, this one was weirder than most. In fact, it was so weird I went to check out those tapes he made his from myself. Can I show them to you and ask what you think?" Imp asked her mother, trepidation in her voice.
Grabbing a piece of pizza, Clair nodded, and followed.
Sitting down in front of the TV next to her, Imp put a tape of the Saiya-jin invasion in… and Clarinet, aka Piccolo Daimao, thought her eyes would bug out.
"Is that Dad?" Imp asked, hands on her hips, giving her mother a very Saiya-jin glare. She had seen her Mother freeze up, looking at the tape, her pizza still held to her mouth.
"Mom? Are you wanting flies along with the pizza?" she asked, after several minutes of her mother's mouth hanging open.
That snapped her out of it.
"Dear… why are you asking?"
Imp blinked. Her mother NEVER called her 'dear'. "Because I want to know why Dad was there, why he was at the Cell games with BLOND hair, and grandpa as well. You aren't there, and I wanted to know if you knew anything about it- it looks like you do. Come on, Mom, you know I can read you like a book. Tell."
Clair sat there, looking at the screen, lost in thought. Her face was so blank that Imp had the distinct impression she had 'checked out' for a moment.
"Yes, it was your father."
Imp leaned back, swaying from the shock.
"Is that really special effects? Is it all made up? I mean, Daddy can't really DO all that stuff, right?"
Clair smiled at her offspring weakly. "Your grandmother wanted you to have a normal life, so we agreed it would never be mentioned around you about the… oddness… in your family. As for any other questions, we are going to wait until Gohan gets home, which should be any minute."
"What's got you so uptight?" Imp asked, looking at her mother out of the corner of her eye, and she received a rather naughty smirk.
"I was going to make a request when we all get here… but your business should come first."
Imp just shrugged, starting on her second pizza.
~*~*~*~*~
It was about twenty minutes later that Imp's father, Gohan burst in the door, looking harried. Neither female said anything to him as he cursed the traffic up and down, turning the air blue with his swearing.
"Bad day?" Clarinet asked as he charged out of their bedroom now in his blue gi.
He didn't answer, but grabbed his own dozen pizzas and started wolfing them down.
Imp had stopped and stared when she realized she recognized her father's blue, battered fighting clothes as she same style he'd worn in both tapes.
"Dad- um… I need to ask you something?" she stuttered, reaching for the tape and playing it. Her father had much the same reaction as her mother, his pizza hanging in mid bite.
"Where did you get that?" he asked, getting up, his hands on his hips. If this hadn't been her daddy, Imp would have been worried.
"School- is that you?" she asked, and Gohan ran a hand through his thick hair.
"I already told her it was, love," Clarinet said, and he whirled to look at her. "You Mother said nothing about that part of her heritage," she pointed out gently and Gohan barked laughter.
His eyes crinkled in a smile, and muttered something like, "You would."
"Yes, that is me, Imp-chan. We never really intended for you to find out, but you are now going to find out the entire Kami-damned story."
" I did defeat Cell, if you are wondering. Cost me more than anyone should have to pay, but for the whole and complete story, which you do deserve to hear, we are going to wait until the weekend, and go to your Grandpa's. Along with the rest of the Z Senshi."
Imp mouthed," Z Senshi?"
"Earth's Special Forces. Warriors that protected the earth from things no normal army could hope to fight," her father said, with a note of grim pride.
"That green dude was one?" Imp heard herself ask, pointing at the television, which was showing a picture of Piccolo.
Gohan cocked an eyebrow, and nodded.
"What happened to her?" Imp blurted out, because something about that person had been nagging her all day.
Her parents exchanged a look.
"He- Piccolo Daimou was generally considered male then, has not been seen since a battle before you were born. He may show up," her mother said, and quirked a grin," he might not. Why?"
"I want to know why everyone said he was scary," Imp said honestly, and both her parents were taken aback.
"Most people would consider a green alien scary, Imp," Gohan said cautiously, starting to eat his pizza again.
"She's not," Imp protested, and heard what she had said. "I mean he. I wish I knew why I kept wanting to call him a she," she muttered, and went on," But when I look at him, I see fear and worry. See?" she pointed to the TV, where Piccolo was standing protectively next to Gohan. "He's scared stiff."
Clarinet's eyebrows looked like they were about to twitch off.
Gohan looked amused. "Very few people would say that about Piccolo-san, Imp-chan. But that's for later. The weekend, when you find out how weird you REALLY are."
Imp sighed and nodded. She'd learned, that when her father got into one of these moods, it was useless to argue with him.
"Mom? You said you had something to discuss with us?"
Imp's mother turned to her daughter with mischief in her eyes. "Well, after this, its kind of prosaic, but I was wanting to ask you both… Gohan, do you want to be a father again?"
To be continued!