Trunks sat cross-legged on his bed and stared at the door, daring either of his parents to come in. Goten had left a few hours earlier after a very tense lunch; since the departure of his friend, Trunks had stayed in his room, submitting his parents to the worse form of torture that a nine-year-old knew...the silent treatment. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to be working. After lunch, Bulma had returned to her lab and Vegeta had stalked off towards the gravity machine.
Trunks sighed and flopped down onto his bed. Normally this would work. His mother couldn't stand it when he acted cold and distant towards her. The boy decided that she must have been taking lessons from his father; she seemed to have suddenly adopted his "I don't care" attitude.
A knock at the door startled Trunks out of his thoughts. He sat up and glared furiously. After a moment, Bulma stuck her head in the room.
"Dinner's ready," she said softly.
Trunks snorted and crossed his arms over his chest.
"When you're through pouting, feel free to join us," commented Bulma.
She then quietly closed the door. Trunks listened as her footsteps grew fainter.
"I'm not pouting," he mumbled, his lower lip sticking out some.
At that moment, Trunks' stomach gurgled. He groaned and rubbed his belly. He had planned on boycotting dinner, but his Saiyan appetite protested the idea of skipping the meal. Trunks reluctantly obeyed his stomach and trudged down to the kitchen. His parents were already sitting at the dinner table, quietly eating their meal. The boy didn't say a word as he sat down and began to load his plate with food.
"So, Vegeta," stated Bulma casually. "How was training?"
The Saiyan snorted in response.
"I take that as 'good'," commented the scientist as she turned to her son. "And how about you, Trunks? How was pouting?"
"I wasn't pouting," whined the boy.
He frowned. So much for the silent treatment. Bulma smiled triumphantly.
"Made you talk," she taunted. "There's a fail-proof way to make a Saiyan talk. Attack his pride. Isn't that right, Monkey Boy?"
"Stop calling me that," growled Vegeta fiercely.
Bulma just laughed, ignoring the threatening look he was giving her. She leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Vegeta grumbled, but he looked subdued nonetheless.
"You're father and I were talking..." stated Bulma as she turned back to Trunks.
The boy sat up straight, eager to hear what she had to say. Usually when his mother said 'no' to one of his ideas, his father would find a way to convince her to concede. Trunks looked toward his father; Vegeta glanced back at him and smiled momentarily before resuming his standard look of disinterest. Trunks knew he was in luck.
"I've decided that my earlier decision may have been a little...harsh," continued Bulma. Vegeta snorted at that comment and was promptly kicked by Bulma. "As I was saying...your father and I have decided that you can return to the alternate timeline."
"Alright!" shouted Trunks jumping to his feet. "I gotta go call Goten!"
"Hold it right there," stated Bulma coolly, causing her son to freeze instantly. "There are conditions to this decision."
Trunks frowned and sank back down into his chair.
"Like what?" he asked warily.
"You and Goten cannot go alone," replied Bulma. "I've already talked to ChiChi and she agrees with me. There is no way that we're letting you two go off by yourselves. You need chaperones."
At that word, Vegeta grimaced. Trunks looked back and forth at his parents.
"Goku has agreed to it. And so has your father," stated Bulma, giving Vegeta a look that dared him to contradict what she was saying. "After supper, you had better pack. We leave first thing in the morning."
"We?" asked Trunks.
"Woman, I really think..." began Vegeta, but his wife quickly cut him off.
"I'm going, Vegeta. How many times do I have to tell you?" she snapped.
"We have no idea who we're going up against, baka. It will be too dangerous for you," retorted the Prince.
"I can take care of myself," hissed Bulma.
Vegeta snorted in reply.
As his parents began to bicker, Trunks quietly got up from the table and snuck back to his room. He picked up the phone and dialed a number that he knew by heart. After a few rings, a familiar voice answered.
"Son residence. Goten speaking."
"Hey, Chibi," greeted Trunks.
"Trunks-kun!" replied the younger boy, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.
"Have you heard about Mom's decision?" asked Trunks eagerly.
"Yup! Mom about had a fit. But she calmed down once they decided that Dad was going to go too," replied Goten.
"This is going to be great, Chibi," stated Trunks happily.
"Yeah!" agreed the other boy.
"So I guess I'll see you tomorrow morning?"
"First thing," answered Goten.
"Night, Chibi."
"Night, Trunks-kun."
Trunks hung up the phone. Turning on his radio, he began to hum along to the music as he gathered some clothes for the next few days. He packed everything neatly into the bookbag he used when he spent the night at Goten's house. He settled back down on to his bed, swinging his legs over the side. There was a gentle knock at the door and Bulma entered the room.
"All packed, huh?" she asked as she chuckled.
"Yep!" stated Trunks, smiling happily.
"I just came up here to tell you to go on to bed. We'll be getting up really early," she reminded him.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied.
"Night, baby," she stated, kissing him on the forehead.
"Night, Mom," said Trunks as he wiped his face clean of his mother's lipstick.
After his mother left, he quickly changed into his pajamas and settled down under the covers. For the next five hours, he stared at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. Finally, he slipped out of his bed and tiptoed down the hall towards his parents' room. He hesitantly reached out and turned the knob. It wasn't locked, so Trunks decided it must be safe to enter. He crept to the end of his parents' bed and peered down at them. His father was lying on his back and his mother was curled up next to him, using his shoulder as a pillow. Trunks quietly walked over to his mother's side of the bed. He levitated into the air and landed softly next to her sleeping form. He was settling down next to her when he felt someone watching him. He looked up and noticed his father staring at him. Vegeta smirked slightly. Trunks smiled back at his father. The Prince's lips twitched and he closed his eyes once more. Trunks laid his head down on his mother's pillow, feeling sleep tug at him. Within minutes, he was asleep.
Trunks woke up the next morning feeling slightly disoriented. He blinked as he glanced around the room, not realizing for the moment that he was still in the middle of his parents' giant bed. Shaking off his confusion, he crawled to the edge of the bed and climbed out. He could hear his mother in the bathroom singing in the shower. Smiling to himself, Trunks hurried out of the room and darted back down the hall towards his own bedroom. He quickly gathered his favorite well-worn T-shirt and jeans and rushed to get ready.
Trunks scurried towards the kitchen where he could pick up the distinct smell of burnt pancakes. Bulma was desperately trying to keep the flaming food under control. Vegeta was watching her with a smirk on his face, thoroughly enjoying watching his wife run around the kitchen in a panic. Bulma somehow managed to salvage the remains of the food. As she was placing the plates on the table, the air in the middle of the kitchen began to waver. A moment later, Goku, Gohan and Goten all appeared thanks to instant transmission. All three had bags slung over their backs.
"Are you coming too, Gohan-san?" asked Trunks eagerly, his face lighting up.
"Sure am!" replied the good-natured teenager as he ruffled the child's hair. "I hope that's OK with you Bulma-san."
The scientist tilted her head to the side and contemplated the new arrangement.
"It'll be a little crowded, but we can manage," she said after a moment.
As the five Saiyans finished off the remains of the breakfast, Bulma arranged their luggage into a crate. Packing everything inside firmly, she reached over and pressed the button on the side of the box. With a puff of smoke, the luggage was encapsulated.
"That'll save some room," she muttered.
"What about your stuff, Mom?" piped up Trunks, who had been watching her. "I didn't see you pack any of your bags.
Bulma reached into her pocket and pulled out a hoi-poi capsule and winked.
"Already did my packing," she explained.
"You needed an entire capsule to yourself?" inquired Gohan in amazement.
"Are you kidding me?" grumbled Vegeta. "I swear the woman packed her entire wardrobe plus half of the lab."
"At least I'll be prepared," replied Bulma airily.
Preparations complete, the group headed outside to one of the secluded courtyards on the estate's grounds. There sat the reality jumper, ready for their departure.
"OK. This thing seats a max of four people comfortably, so we're going to be kind crunched," explained Bulma.
She quickly dictated a seating arrangement. First, Gohan and Goku climbed in, followed by Trunks. Goten was instructed to sit on his best friend's lap. Next was Vegeta, followed by Bulma, who perched on his lap. Trunks wrapped his arms loosely around Goten's waist, trying to find a comfortable position. He leaned forward and buried his face into his friend's wild black hair; he had seen Gohan do this to Videl numerous times when she had sat on his lap. Like Videl, Goten giggled in response to the gesture.
"That tickles," he protested.
The four adults looked at the two boys.
"Brat, cut that out," snapped Vegeta, unnerved by how close Goten and Trunks seemed to be getting.
"But Gohan does that to Videl, and they're best friends. Goten's my best friend, so what's wrong with me doing that?" asked Trunks innocently.
Vegeta leaned forward and glared murderously at the teenage Saiyan. Gohan sweatdropped and glanced around nervously.
"They're just kids, Vegeta," reprimanded Bulma. "Calm down."
"Yeah, it's not like they're kissing each other," laughed Goku.
"Kissing. Yick," stated Trunks.
"Yeah. We tried that before. It felt funny," said Goten, scrunching up his face.
"You did what?" growled Vegeta.
"We saw Gohan and Videl kissing once in Goten's backyard, so we figured we would see what it was like," explained Trunks casually.
By this time Vegeta was beginning to twitch and Gohan had turned a sickly shade of white.
"Brat, you are going to die a slow, painful death," Vegeta threatened the teenager.
"I think it's time to go," interrupted Bulma, as she hastily closed the glass shield to the machine and dialed in the proper coordinates.
"You're safe...for now," hissed the Prince at Gohan.
"Come on, Vegeta...I think it's kinda funny," chuckled Goku.
"KAKKAROT!"
Bulma pressed the button that activated the machine before the conversation could get any more out of hand.