Propensity to Dream
"What
is life? An illusion, a shadow, a story,
And the greatest good is little enough:
for all life is a dream, and dreams themselves are only dreams."
The wind whipped noisily in the deserted street, causing the scuttling of scrap paper and stray leaves. It seemed that whenever a job had to be pulled off, the sounds of the most insignificant were amplified ten fold. From his makeshift den of cardboard, and a ragged and dirty woolen cloth wrapped around him tightly, a destitute male took to drink—as many others do—to drown out his failures in life. Only the streetlamps yielded shallow pools of golden light to alleviate the pitch darkness of the wintry night.
An old American vehicle entered the halcyon scene, engine gurgling as the driver drove up and parallel parked opposite a currency exchange store. Three men, dressed in black, were seated inside the large vehicle. To the casual eye, they were merely friends enjoying a night out, but as we intensify our scrutiny we come to realize more sinister intentions.
*********************
A beat-up old Cadillac pulled into a gas station, brakes squealing as the vehicle came to a stop beside an even more ramshackle fuel pump.
"Look dudes, you guys wait here, while get I some gas and something to eat." An enormous male opened the driver side door, and struggled to wedge himself out of the driver seat. His leather jacket made funny noises as it rubbed viciously against the leather seats. Soon, after much violent shaking of the seemingly ensnared man, he made it out and proceeded towards the gas station convenience mart.
Gaping incredulously at the obese fellow the male located in the backseat called out to his accessory in crime, "Ay, I thought you said he was our getaway driver…What the F—K can he get away from?"
His accomplice seated in the front gave an annoyed grunt, and replied with some exasperation, "Look, he's a real good driver, I heard. An' anyway, he's the best I could do with our budget…ya dig?"
"Woah…I bet fat peeps jog around him for exercise." He said with an accent reminiscent of the Satan City slums; it immediately gave the impression that they were raised impoverished.
"Look dude, we can't attract any attention, ya dig? So try to act cool an' don't do nothin' stupid. Got it Jimbo?"
"Yah yah, no prob, Mike." Jimbo replied nonchalantly, not paying much attention to the ramblings of his accomplice, but rather was more interested with his weapon of choice. He pulled it out of concealment, which took some doing because of its remarkable size and the scarcity of space in the back of the vehicle. He ran his fingertips over the hard metal lovingly, stroking the lethal mechanism. Mike swiveled his body around to discern why his partner had quieted down, only to gape in astonishment at the obscenely conspicuous weapon.
Recovering slightly from his shock, he exclaimed loudly, "What the f—k is that, an anti-aircraft machine gun?!"
"What?! It gets peeps ta piss in their pants, that's all I want."
Mike shook his head, feeling a migraine coming on; why in all that is holy did he choose such an idiot as a partner?
****************************
"Ok dudes, that's the money mart. You guys go in and do whacha want, I'm gonna drive 'round the block and meet up with ya guys in 'bout two minutes. That should be enough time to get in an' out with the money."
"Yeah, you'd better be here in two, let's go, Jimbo." He gestured to his partner in the back, who was struggling to get his ridiculously large weapon to fit through the door. "No no, dumbass, not that! Jus' bring 'bout yer pistol, that's all we need."
"A'ight, A'right, don't get yer panties in a twist." Reluctantly abandoning his beloved weapon, Jimbo, clad fully in black, got out and walked briskly across the street towards the Money Mart, Mike in tow. Both men quickly pulled on ski masks, also black. They entered the store, which was empty save for the cashier, as they had previously anticipated. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, sporting a punk rocker outfit and blonde hair—which was cut short into spikes—and as soon as she saw the potential customers, her face immediately contorted into a sneer of contempt.
"What ya guys want? It ain't that cold out there ya know." The voice was somewhat shrill, attitude literarily dripping from her weary disposition. Not the best way to greet customers, but hey, they weren't complaining.
"A'ight bitch, this is a hold up. Gimme' everythin' in the register, NOW!" Mike ordered, pulling out his pistol and pointing it at the cashier.
"Oh really? Well looks like you guys are outta luck, cuz we just sold out in bets, an' the cash flow is gone. No money here." Her voice was unusually calm, not one decibel wavering nor did her hands shake betraying any sort of fear. She casually gestured to their guns and said, "Looks like you gotta take your business elsewhere."
Mike looked at her in amazement, shock evident as his mouth was nearly hanging open slack-jawed, "What part of give me the money don't you understand? I got a f—ing gun trained on you, are you crazy?"
Keeping her voice steady, obviously repressing a surge of anger, she replied through gritted teeth, "I said, we don't have any money. What part of that don't you understand?"
Jimbo was frantically looking outside the door, hoping that no one would choose this time to exchange currency, "Man, hurry up bitch! We ain't got all day!" He kept pacing back and forth, looking outside into the dusty streets, and back towards the psychopathic cashier.
Her hand slowly went under the cash register, and felt about finally bumping her finger into something that protruded out from beneath, like a button. She kept her sharp gaze trained at the two criminals, replying again slowly, "I told you, we don't have any money."
Jimbo was clearly panicking as he ceased his frantic pacing. Brandishing his weapon wildly he screamed, "GIVE IT NOW OR I'LL BLOW YOUR F—KING HEAD OFF!!!"
She screamed back shrilly, "I F—KING TOLD YOU I DON'T HAVE ANY!!!" As both men winced at the tone, she slammed the button and ducked behind the counter, and immediately a piercing alarm permeated the air while iron shutters descended and covered the windows. A bulletproof glass casing slammed down on top of the counter, effectively segregating the cashier from the two panicked criminals.
"SHIT! Run for it!" Both men dashed for the door, opening it before it automatically locked them inside. Jimbo shoulder barged the second door, trying to push it open, his only chance for escape. He rebounded off the door violently, landing on the concrete floor with a sickening thud. A faint moan escaped his lips as he clutched his shoulder, wincing in pain while he tried to shake the bout of dizziness that enveloped him.
Mike exclaimed in terror, "Open it! We gotta get out!"
Recovering from the head on collision, Jimbo rammed the door repeatedly with his shoulder—trying to unhinge it—but it wouldn't budge. His shoulder barges were getting more and more desperate, but he refused to cease his madness until his shoulder went completely numb in pain. They both leaned against the wall, slowly slumping downwards in defeat until they were seated on the hard floor.
Mike pulled off his mask, sweat heavily drenching his dark hair. Jimbo followed his lead, and both sat there despondently awaiting the men in blue. Jimbo was staring straight ahead at the other sidewall, trying to discern what had went wrong with their relatively simple heist. He slowly followed his gaze upwards and then stiffened; then frantically grabbing his mask he tried rather unsuccessfully to mask his face once again.
Curious to his friend's madness, Mike glanced at what had made his cohort so self-conscious. His face fell even more, if that was possible, as the odds were just stacking up against them. Not only had they gotten themselves trapped between the two entrance doors, they had given the camera a clean look at their face. No chance of escape now, they were six feet deep in pig excrement. Consigning himself to defeat, he sighed and slumped even further against the wall, trying to imagine what prison life would be like. He soon jolted awake from his reverie as someone opened the door. Glancing up his face nearly did a double take, as a man was standing there clad in green, with a helmet concealing his face. What was even more astonishing was the fact that that weird man had opened the door, without a key. Realization hit like a ton of bricks, and he very nearly choked Jimbo—who was also sharing the same bewilderment at the man—as he clutched his hair in despair. They had to pull, not push…
**************************
Alerted by the shrill alarm, Videl Satan descended her yellow helicopter down onto the street below. Quickly climbing out she dashed towards the noise, casually thinking if The Great Saiya-Man had already reached the crime scene. It had been three weeks since the ill-fated warehouse bust, where she had nearly lost her innocence to a malevolent crime King Pin. Since then, The Great Saiya-Man had almost always showed up to a crime scene that she had been called upon, and disposed of the criminals along side her. What was worse, he displayed incredible abilities and—although she would never admit it—was a much better crime fighter than she could ever be. She scowled a little at the thought of him being better, irritated that in a few short weeks he had proven to be more capable than her in apprehending dangerous criminals.
He had stolen her thunder, her sanctuary from worldly stress and her arrogant father. It was something she could vent her frustrations on—something that was completely legal to do so as well—other than her wide assortment of punching bags. They were there, but they didn't have that human touch to them, they didn't have the reality and satisfaction inherent with cleaning up city slime, something she could be proud of. It was something that would make her an individual, some distinct quality that she can call her own. Not a quality that people associated with her father, she was tired of dwelling in the recesses of her father's colossal shadow. Tired of being called the daughter of Mr. Satan, why couldn't she be just Videl Satan?
Nearly everyone she met, or was acquainted with, regarded her as the daughter of the champ, never an individual that could achieve on her own merit. Perhaps she should be appreciative at the amount of respect she received because of that fact, but she wasn't, because she didn't earn that respect. One thing that vexed her more than green helmeted superhero geeks was that she was not esteemed on her own merit. Volunteering to help police was one way for her to be different than her father, to earn some respect that wasn't always derived from what her father did but rather for the things she did. Was it too much to ask to be treated as an individual, and not as a subsidiary of some arrogant commercial commodity?
There was only one person that treated her like someone distinctly dissimilar than her dad, in fact, she felt somewhat special around him. Gohan: sweet, innocent and caring. Every time she thought about him a faint blush would grace her cheeks, and she felt herself being much more emotionally inclined in his presence. It was like she wanted to be girly around him, whatever that means. Although she still retained some of her bitchy attitude around him, it was only because she was increasingly inquisitive about him and wanted to get a more intimate knowledge of him, and that was the only way she knew to get some answers. Was he Saiya-Man? Maybe, although she couldn't quite find the missing link between them, she was getting increasingly convinced that they were one and the same. Speaking of Saiya-Man, he had just landed in front of a money exchange store from which the siren was being emitted.
He opened the door and was just staring inside it, as she skidded to a halt beside him. She glared at him for a second, he just shrugging it off as a common occurrence, and then looked inside at the two miserable criminal specimens. They were slumped against the wall, a hint of disbelief evident in their tired demeanor, as they stared back at her. She smirked, it seemed these two had succeeded in apprehending themselves for the cops, making this scenario much less stressful.
"Ohayo Videl," Saiya-Man casually commented, still keeping his gaze on the two culprits.
"Hmph, you couldn't stay home and hear about this on the news like the rest of the population could you?" That was as much of a greeting as he could expect, and he smiled a little at her continuing masquerade of annoyance.
"Well, I was in the neighborhood, decided to drop by."
"You ALWAYS decide to drop by, can't you leave some of the criminals for me?"
"I try Videl, I try. But I find myself worr—," he stopped in mid-sentence, grabbing his mouth as if fearing another embarrassing statement.
"What were you about to say?" Videl was practically seething, who was he, to care about her? Who did he think he was?
"Oh nothing, nothing." Gohan—a.k.a Saiya-Man—stuttered rather clumsily, "I just said worrying about the crime-rate that's all!" He heaved a mental sigh of relief, partially satisfied at the feasibility of his lie.
"Yeah right, Saiya-Man," she practically spat that out, "You meant to say you were worried about ME!"
"No, n—," Gohan started to frantically deny, but much to his chagrin, Videl would have none of it.
"You save me ONE time, one thing that will NEVER happen again, and you get so conceited about your abilities!" She was advancing on Saiya-Man a menacing scowl set on her taught lips, whilst she brandished her arms about wildly, "To think of all the overbearing, arrogant men like YOU can go around thinking you're better than me just 'cuz your male!" With every progressive step she took, Gohan retreated, slowly backing away as one would do to a ferocious lion, or any piqued female for that matter. He soon found himself cornered in an alleyway, the wall on his back and a stench-infested dumpster towards his right, as Videl blocked any chance for escape.
"I ought to jam a crowbar so far up you're a—." She was interrupted, thankfully, by several police sirens and the subsequent screeching of their tires as they skidded to a stop. The men in blue clambered out of their modified Crown Victorias, immediately investigating the crime scene. Several men rushed in to disable the alarm, which much to the neighborhood's dismay, was still ringing like an incessant school bell.
Videl still glared daggers into Saiya-Man, as he held his arms up defensively, looking a little scared. With an arrogant "hmph", she spun on her heels to go inform the rather late police about the crime. As she walked up to them, she noticed that they were looking inside the store with some bewilderment.
"What's the problem?" She asked, thinking it was not something to fret upon.
"Well, miss, we have the video tape of the crime. The cashier is safe and sound, unscathed. No money has been actually removed from the cash register, and nothing looks like it has been damaged."
She sighed a little exasperated, "So? Last time I checked those were good things to happen in the aftermath of a crime."
He looked at her, still retaining that puzzled look, "Then were are the criminals?"
"What!?" All this time she thought that they had already been read their rights and were arrested, and would be sitting in one of the several cop cars present.
"Well, did you apprehend them or not? We thought that with both Saiya-Man and you on the scene, there was no way that they could escape."
"I don't need Saiya-Man," she snarled, causing the cop's eyes to widen a little, "Anyway, they were right here! Saiya-Man was blocking their entrance and that is when I showed up. We were both blocking their escape route, until I…" She paused as realization dawned on her, how could she be so stupid? "Oh…Oh…"
"Um, Miss Videl, is something wrong?" The cop fearfully asked, as if expecting her to bite his head off at any second.
"Um…" She hung her head in shame, as she contemplated the consequences of her actions. Those criminals were allowed to commit an armed robbery with impunity, the fact that they didn't get anything didn't console her much, because the thought that they would attempt it again, and the next time, if she wasn't there, she would be responsible for their actions. She let them go, with her stupidity and pig-headedness. She was mad at herself, for the amount of unprofessionalism she displayed, even though she volunteered as a crime-fighter. She sucked in her breath, apparently making up her mind to own up to her mistakes. She would listen to the admonishments of the Chief, and would bravely face any punishment she would receive for her blatant negligence and the involuntary aiding and abetting of a criminal.
"I…I'm sorr—"
"She's sorry, that she couldn't tell me in time." Saiya-Man interrupted, "I don't know why but I acted very stupid and it was because of my actions that those two got away. When Videl arrived I felt a pang of jealousy, so I intentionally started a fight in which I was the sole aggressor. I kept her distracted with my idiotic comments which allowed the two to escape. She might have stopped them if I wasn't blocking her line of sight. Consequently, she didn't know they escaped." Gohan couldn't believe that he could concoct such a feasible lie in such a short period of time, but for the sake of Videl, he did, because…he didn't know exactly why, but it was something he never experienced before.
Videl made a move to interject, but was cut off again by Saiya-Man, "I'm really very sorry," and then he turned to Videl, "I am shameful for my actions Miss, please forgive me." With that he blasted off into the night sky, leaving an astonished Videl in his wake. She stared up after him, trying to decipher his intentions. Where they genuine? They sure as hell were, he didn't want her to be blamed, but why?
"Man, I knew that Saiya-Man wasn't as good as he came off to be. Geez, the nerve, to strike up and argument, with YOU," the middle-aged copped quipped, a little contempt manifested in his tone.
Videl looked at him, and for some reason felt a sudden pang of anger, "SHUT UP, he did much more than you ever did you donut-eating FREAK!" She stomped her foot for added affect, then turned and ran towards her helicopter, not knowing what she was feeling at the moment.
***********************
He couldn't believe it, it couldn't be what it seemed to be. It must be an illusion, a tantalizing mirage. What he was currently seeing was Videl, the woman he thought to be most beautiful, clad in only a blue bikini, taking a dip in his lake, or at least the lake he always takes a dip in. She swam to where the waterfall was, sexily washing her hair underneath it. With every massaging motion she did, as she ran her fingers through her wet hair, the more Gohan was entranced by this angel. For she could not be mortal, no one mortal could possess what she possessed; she must the purest of Creation, an angel.
After she was done with massaging her hair underneath the waterfall, she swam to the embankment where Gohan was standing. She slowly, almost teasingly, crept out of the watery depths of the lake and onto its adjoining grassy embankment. She stood to her full height, unraveling herself from her crouch, revealing her perfect figure to one spellbound Son Gohan. Looking at him temptingly, she walked towards him her hips swaying from side to side slowly hypnotizing him. She halted inches in front of him, her warm breath playing on his heaving chest. He just noticed that he too, was wearing a swimming costume, or just baggy shorts. He looked down at her face, his want clearly reflecting in his lustful eyes. She was perfect, the gentle contours of her body driving him deeper and deeper into infatuation.
Her hands draped onto his shoulders seductively, clasping around his neck, as she searched his onyx eyes for emotion. Her wet hair, which was slicked backwards, coupled with her astonishing body and revealing bikini made her out to be the perfect swimsuit model. He gazed back down at her, arms instinctively snaking around her slim waist.
Oh man, her skin is so soft, so smooth… Perfect…
She stood on her tiptoes, lips parted slightly as she closed the distance between the two. In response, Gohan bent downwards, assisting her in closing the gap, as they both shut their eyes and enjoined into a gentle kiss. Her lips were particularly soft, a faint scent of honeydew emanating from her mouth. Gohan, although he tried to suppress it, finally lost control over his desire and hungrily ravaged her parted mouth. In response, Videl also proportionately deepened the kiss as they stood half-naked their mouths interlocked. Gohan was starting to turn a little blue, feeling a distinct pain in his chest like it was tightly constricted, but before he could ascertain the reason for it Videl abruptly pulled away, chest heaving methodically. He soon realized his problem, and following Videl's example started to greedily gulp in large quantities of air.
"Videl…"
"Shhh…" She put her finger to his lips an earnest twinkle in her sparkling eyes. She grasped his hand and led him, a little too seductively, towards the shade of a giant tree. Gohan couldn't take another tantalizing sway of her waist, and again zealously lunged for her. She embraced him with anticipation, jumping on his torso and wrapping both her arms and legs around him, as he navigated both of them to the shady grass beneath. They both resumed kissing passionately, and Gohan felt her smooth cold fingers caress his back. He too was groping her back as his need for her became painfully apparent, until it was time to breathe again. Gasping for breath he looked down at her beautiful face, casually brushing away a dark bang of wet hair.
"Gohan, do you love me?" Her eyes were looking up at him, keenly anticipating his response.
Gohan felt a warm calm come over his body, his erratic ki steadying at the question posed, and he replied without even the slightest ounce of doubt obscuring his answer, "More than anything in the world."
She smiled, and he returned it with an even wider smile, as she cooed out softly, almost in a whisper, "Then make love to me."
He lowered himself until his lips made contact with her neck, placing slow sucking kisses down and around its vicinity. Videl moaned in obvious pleasure at Gohan's ministrations, her hands clenching his spiky, but ample, hair. He reached down on to her back, fiddling with the strap that obstructed his view of her hardening breasts, until he ripped at it impatiently, his desire completely saturating him. Soon both bodies were writhing in pleasure, as they both satisfied their lustful desires…
Gohan woke with a start, sweat pouring down his face and back.
NO!!! Only a dream, only a F—KING DREAM! Now Gohan rarely used expletives, but any reasonable person would instantly empathize with the teen. His face reddened rapidly, even though everyone was asleep, as he remembered fragments of his sleep-induced hallucination. He looked at the large lump protruding out of his boxer shorts, a darkened splotch spreading on its tip, tarnishing the fabric. His blush didn't recede in time, it only grew, and he came to a new realization about himself. He had just had his first nocturnal emission…
********************************
She was there, Videl, sitting as usual on the top of the school building waiting for the bell to ring. With her feet dangling over the terrace wall, and her hands clamped on to the precipice for support, she stared out at the cloudless sky. She seemed completely blissful, in a state of utter relaxation, as she gazed out towards the world beyond.
"Hi Videl," Gohan said, as he had just landed on the roof behind her, carefully making sure that she didn't—or anyone else for that matter—see him land on the roof.
She turned her head and glanced at Gohan, acknowledging his presence with a curt nod. She then went back to staring at the vast City ahead of her, seemingly entranced by it. Gohan hopped on to the ledge himself, sitting beside her, trying his utmost not to remember the erotic dream he had had about her.
I can't believe I though of her like that. If she found out she would kill me! Or worse yet, she would kill me slowly, like starvation… He shuddered at the thought, and decided to temporarily forget about the embarrassing incident.
"You look deep in thought, anything up?" Gohan asked, and waited patiently, but the only response he got was a deep meaningful stare, as her beautiful azure eyes gazed at him, and then she turned her head back to its previous position. Trying to figure out the reason behind her recent spell of reticence, he cocked his head to the side as he studied her features. Her dark wavy hair was, as always, separated into two pigtails, the ends of them which fluffed out considerably. She had silky smooth skin, which looked soft to touch; oh what Gohan wouldn't give just to get to run his fingertips over her creamy skin. Her eyes, the aspect of her face that captivated him without fail, were sparkling blue, a somewhat ethereal combination of blue and white.
Oblivious to Gohan's scrutiny, Videl was also lost deep in thought, her deliberation centered upon two individuals—who she presumed to be one and the same—the same individual currently seated beside her.
Why? Well let us consider the pertinent information we have regarding that notion. Whenever she had been called up by the Chief, Gohan—as she later found out by Erasa—had always asked to go to the washroom immediately after she left. Coincidence you say? It may have been, if it had been committed twice or, for argument's sake, even thrice, but every time without fail only fuelled her suspicion even more.
He had shown unusual dexterity in Physical Education, her suspicion explicitly resting upon his Olympic high jump to retrieve a fly-ball, and his equally astonishing return throw, which charred the brown leather of the unfortunate third-baseman.
He eats too much, way too much. He can do fifty push-ups without breaking a sweat, he can hold two buckets of bricks and show no signs of exhaustion, something is very wrong with this picture…
Before she could analyze those thoughts any further, the first bell rang, signaling the official inception of the school day. Briefly sighing, she stepped of the terrace wall and made her way back towards the stairs. Gohan looked at her worriedly, convinced that something was bothering her.
I hope it's not Saiya-man, I've had enough close calls to last me a lifetime.
How cruel fate can be sometimes, especially when administering a certain demi-Saiya-jin.
(A/N- If James Cameron can get away by showing Winslet's tits, and the fact that DiCaprio kept banging her like a salvation army drum all over the titanic, and still call it "pg-13", then I think my little dream sequence comfortably rested in that category. Anyway, I'm not completely sure about adding lemons in subsequent chapters, but it may change if you can convince me otherwise.)
"We must believe in luck. For how else can we explain the success of those we don't like?"
-Jean Cocteau (1889 - 1963)
