Disclaimer: I, obviously, do not own any of Dragonball Z... otherwise why would I be writing fanfics? I would be writing the real thing!
A/N: Just a couple things. 1) I know that things in this story will not be completely accurate, such as spelling, etc. Please forgive the oversite, and please, constructive critisism is welcome and appreciated. 2) I wanted Goten and Trunks to be around 17/18ish, but they're acting too juvenile, so I don't know what age they are at the moment. I figure, now, they are around 13/14/15... oh and 3) because I'm on my old computer and it won't let me do formatting, thoughts are in ~~.
Third-Class Sayajin???
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Son Goten lay on the ground panting heavily. He felt as if he had been in a road accident. No that wasn't right; a car crash would never hurt this much. Nothing could ever cause as much pain as a sparring match with Vegeta.
Not long after, Trunks was flaked out at Goten's side rubbing his head where, in the last moments of his sparring match, Vegeta had slid through his son's defences especially well. The youngest 'spawn of Kakarot' wondered why either of them had ever agreed to a match with the seemingly indomitable 'Prince of all Sayajins'.
"Come on, Goten!" Trunks hauled himself to his feet. "Remember, Dad said he would do what we asked, if we did what he asked!"
~Ah yes. That was why they had agreed to spar with Vegeta.~ The exhausted half-Sayajin mused. He also wondered vaguely if the beating he had taken at the older warrior's hands had driven anything else important out of his mind. "An' we did. So? What good will that do us half-dead?" The black haired teen complained. He knew he was whining, but why did it always seem that when Trunks got an Idea, he, Goten ended up in pain, and/or in trouble.
Trunks grabbed his friend by the collar of his training gi (which was already a little worse for wear) and dragged his protesting friend to his feet. "Fine, you stay here. Dad's gonna get Mom to let me out of school for a few days now, so I'll find the Dragonballs by myself!"
"Does your Dad know why you want out of school for a while?" Goten, miraculously recovered, followed his friend as Trunks raced toward his house.
"No. You know he would kill me if he knew!" Trunks didn't seem to care that his father would know the instant the Dragon was summonded, considering the stir the Dragon caused, but Goten figured by that time the lavender-haired half-Sayajin would have thought of some sort of back-up plan.
"You know," Goten exclaimed suddenly, "We could just tell your Mom we broke that invention of her's, and then say we're sorry. Then we wouldn't have to worry about finding the Dragonballs!"
Trunks turned from his search for the Dragon-radar with one of the one of the least impressed expressions on his face that Goten had ever seen, one that also seemed to manage to be incredulus and stupified at the same time. "Sure, buddy. No problem. And you can tell her, since it's your idea."
The black haired teen gulped, "I think the radar was in the downstairs workshop last time I saw it." he suggested.
Trunks grinned, and bounded down the stairs in that direction.
* * * * *
WHAT IS YOUR FIRST WISH? Goten couldn't believe how easy this was. Not only had Bulma agreed to let Trunks out of school, Chichi hadn't minded either, not when presented with the fact that Bulma was letting Trunks go on this little 'camping-trip'.
The two friends knew that they where dead when they got back, but for the little time they had left they where determined to to enjoy themselves. Even if, now that Trunks had summoned the Dragon their live-spans were limited to hours, instead of days.
"I wish that all the damage Goten and I caused to my Mom's invention would be repaired." Trunks had tried to fix the gaget, but Goten had sneezed and blown all the pieces to every end of the workshop. After that all they could find was a couple of the larger scraps of metal that where still clinging together.
YOUR WISH IS GRANTED. WHAT IS YOUR SECOND WISH?
Goten's stomach growled loudly. "We could ask for food." He suggested hopefully.
Trunks looked at him scornfully. "Don't be ridiculous! We have whole capsules full of food! Man, you must be a third-class Sayajin, 'cause you sure are dumb. Just like your Dad! I bet your Dad's Dad was too!" As soon as the words came tumbling out of his mouth, Trunks wished that he could snatch them back. Goten's face fell, and the lavender-haired teen opened his mouth to apologize. After all, he sure hadn't meant what he said; maybe he was hungry too, and that was making him cranky.
But, before he could say anything, Goten yelled, "You take that back! It isn't true! My Dad isn't dumb. And neither is his Dad, I bet you anything. I wish we could meet him: that would prove you wrong!" Goten, his eyes narrowed in anger, had moved forward while he was talking until the two half-Sayajin's where almost nose to nose.
YOUR WISH HAS BEEN GRANTED. Trunks and Goten both turned their heads to look at that Eternal Dragon in horror. What had they done now?
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A/N: Just a couple things. 1) I know that things in this story will not be completely accurate, such as spelling, etc. Please forgive the oversite, and please, constructive critisism is welcome and appreciated. 2) I wanted Goten and Trunks to be around 17/18ish, but they're acting too juvenile, so I don't know what age they are at the moment. I figure, now, they are around 13/14/15... oh and 3) because I'm on my old computer and it won't let me do formatting, thoughts are in ~~.
Third-Class Sayajin???
__________________________________________________
Son Goten lay on the ground panting heavily. He felt as if he had been in a road accident. No that wasn't right; a car crash would never hurt this much. Nothing could ever cause as much pain as a sparring match with Vegeta.
Not long after, Trunks was flaked out at Goten's side rubbing his head where, in the last moments of his sparring match, Vegeta had slid through his son's defences especially well. The youngest 'spawn of Kakarot' wondered why either of them had ever agreed to a match with the seemingly indomitable 'Prince of all Sayajins'.
"Come on, Goten!" Trunks hauled himself to his feet. "Remember, Dad said he would do what we asked, if we did what he asked!"
~Ah yes. That was why they had agreed to spar with Vegeta.~ The exhausted half-Sayajin mused. He also wondered vaguely if the beating he had taken at the older warrior's hands had driven anything else important out of his mind. "An' we did. So? What good will that do us half-dead?" The black haired teen complained. He knew he was whining, but why did it always seem that when Trunks got an Idea, he, Goten ended up in pain, and/or in trouble.
Trunks grabbed his friend by the collar of his training gi (which was already a little worse for wear) and dragged his protesting friend to his feet. "Fine, you stay here. Dad's gonna get Mom to let me out of school for a few days now, so I'll find the Dragonballs by myself!"
"Does your Dad know why you want out of school for a while?" Goten, miraculously recovered, followed his friend as Trunks raced toward his house.
"No. You know he would kill me if he knew!" Trunks didn't seem to care that his father would know the instant the Dragon was summonded, considering the stir the Dragon caused, but Goten figured by that time the lavender-haired half-Sayajin would have thought of some sort of back-up plan.
"You know," Goten exclaimed suddenly, "We could just tell your Mom we broke that invention of her's, and then say we're sorry. Then we wouldn't have to worry about finding the Dragonballs!"
Trunks turned from his search for the Dragon-radar with one of the one of the least impressed expressions on his face that Goten had ever seen, one that also seemed to manage to be incredulus and stupified at the same time. "Sure, buddy. No problem. And you can tell her, since it's your idea."
The black haired teen gulped, "I think the radar was in the downstairs workshop last time I saw it." he suggested.
Trunks grinned, and bounded down the stairs in that direction.
* * * * *
WHAT IS YOUR FIRST WISH? Goten couldn't believe how easy this was. Not only had Bulma agreed to let Trunks out of school, Chichi hadn't minded either, not when presented with the fact that Bulma was letting Trunks go on this little 'camping-trip'.
The two friends knew that they where dead when they got back, but for the little time they had left they where determined to to enjoy themselves. Even if, now that Trunks had summoned the Dragon their live-spans were limited to hours, instead of days.
"I wish that all the damage Goten and I caused to my Mom's invention would be repaired." Trunks had tried to fix the gaget, but Goten had sneezed and blown all the pieces to every end of the workshop. After that all they could find was a couple of the larger scraps of metal that where still clinging together.
YOUR WISH IS GRANTED. WHAT IS YOUR SECOND WISH?
Goten's stomach growled loudly. "We could ask for food." He suggested hopefully.
Trunks looked at him scornfully. "Don't be ridiculous! We have whole capsules full of food! Man, you must be a third-class Sayajin, 'cause you sure are dumb. Just like your Dad! I bet your Dad's Dad was too!" As soon as the words came tumbling out of his mouth, Trunks wished that he could snatch them back. Goten's face fell, and the lavender-haired teen opened his mouth to apologize. After all, he sure hadn't meant what he said; maybe he was hungry too, and that was making him cranky.
But, before he could say anything, Goten yelled, "You take that back! It isn't true! My Dad isn't dumb. And neither is his Dad, I bet you anything. I wish we could meet him: that would prove you wrong!" Goten, his eyes narrowed in anger, had moved forward while he was talking until the two half-Sayajin's where almost nose to nose.
YOUR WISH HAS BEEN GRANTED. Trunks and Goten both turned their heads to look at that Eternal Dragon in horror. What had they done now?
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