Interlude: Last Year

~And so, the last year started.

The Z Senshi all prepared for the final battle, each in his or her own way, but in the end all they could do was hope that it would be enough.

Would it? Only time would tell…~

(8 months and counting)

You don't know what you have until it's gone, Trunks mused, sitting in his windowsill and watching the sunset. He had just returned home after a sparring vacation of a month. Now that Goten and he had both graduated high school, they had oceans of time. His mother was extremely lenient where it came to finding a college right now; with the end of the world close at hand, she had taken Goku's advice and let him enjoy himself as much as he wanted.

And he had really needed to get out of the house.

The first weeks after the party at Capsule Corp had been depressing and painful. He had gone out of his way to avoid Future Trunks and Marron both. He did not feel like dealing with them yet. It certainly wasn't the nicest way of finding out that you harbor warm feelings for someone. Jealousy is a green-eyed monster, they said, and that was definitely true in his case. He was so filled with jealousy that sometimes he thought he would burst.

Goten had noticed and helped him through that first phase: he had taken Trunks on a sparring session in the mountains, where they hunted and sparred and did some serious talking. They would lie on their back and look at the stars, contemplating life, the universe, and everything… they'd muse on love, on battle and telepathy, and on the threat of the Silver Terror that was coming closer every day.

"It seems that the people on Earth are always living in the face of impending doom," Goten had remarked sardonically on one of those starlit evenings. Trunks had agreed with him, darkly muttering about doom and time and curses that seemed to be upon the Z Senshi.

The evening had ended with the both of them ending up drunk, melancholically, and eventually with the mother of all hangovers. It was definitely one of the best nights Trunks had ever had, and he wouldn't trade it for the world. It would be a memory worth fighting for.

*

(6 months and counting)

One of the things Marron really liked about the small island where she grew up was the climate. The remote location drove her bonkers sometimes, but at least the weather was always pretty. Even early in the morning it was already warm enough for an extended swim. She dove through the waves and swam for a while. When Future Trunks had told them about the threat of the Silver Terror, her mother had wanted to train her to fight (or at least to defend herself), but instead 18 had ended up scolding her teenage daughter for her bad condition. Two and a half years later Marron was in top condition because of the fighting and the exercise, but she had maintained the habit of going for a swim first thing in the morning. It was a wonderful opportunity to be alone and reflect on certain matters.

Trunks, for example. The boy she grew up with was downright ignoring her for the past two months. At first she thought he was just busy with other things and tried not to take it personally, but she was definitely suspecting something now. They had been friends for as long as she could remember… he had been the one that had taught her to fly four years ago. He had told her about his first kiss with flushed cheeks, whispering she shouldn't tell anyone. They had shared so much together throughout their life – Marron had always worshipped the ground he walked on. Now that they were growing older, she had started to hope that maybe he would fall in love with her. He was starting to notice her, she had seen. He did still think that he was too old for her, but she had seen girls of her age together with guys his age before, so she had decided to give it time until he would turn around. After all, in the future timeline she and Trunks had ended up together, too, hadn't they?

On the other hand that was exactly her problem. Ever since the party, when she had hugged with Future Trunks, her friend was avoiding her. She wondered whether he had seen them together and made his own conclusions, but she couldn't remember seeing or hearing him. Of course, she had been rather occupied by Future Trunks.

And she had not really figured out what she felt for him, either. His need and his attention drew her like a moth to a flame. She felt a confused sort of love for him, but she did not know whether her feelings were sisterly or as a lover. It is so strange to deal with the future, scarred version of the boy you have worshipped your whole life. Especially if said young man expresses his love for you, while the boy you grew up with doesn't regard you more than a friend (yet). What are you supposed to feel in such a situation? Marron definitely didn't know.

She turned over on her back and floated aimlessly in the water for a while, looking up at the azure sky without really seeing it. A lone seagull cried out. It sounded desolate and lonely and made her cringe.

She really needed to talk to Trunks soon.

*

(3 months and counting)

Bulma squinted at her computer screen. Kami, she was tired… her eyes kept unfocusing and she was continuously hitting the wrong keys on the keyboard, but her caffeine-enhanced brain had finally reached a breakthrough.

The millions of scans and simulations she had run on the metal had finally paid off – she was rather sure she had finally found a way to reproduce the amour. It made fatigue totally irrelevant. They had three months before the Silver Terror would grace them with their uninvited presence and she needed to have this done by then. It was cold in her lab, totally dark except for her desk light, but she was completely oblivious to it. Or rather, she chose to ignore it. It was all about priorities here. No matter that she was living on coffee and that she hardly saw her family these days. She would have plenty of time to see them after she had saved their lives, right? She just needed to-

"You're up late," Vegeta's breath tickled her neck all of a sudden.

Bulma shrieked and jerked upright. She twirled her chair around, right into her mate's arms. "Damn you Vegeta, don't scare me like that!" she gasped, her heart thumping in her throat.

He laughed that throaty laugh she knew so well and buried his face in her hair. "I am lonely. Come to bed," he invited.

"Sounds wonderful," she sighed, "but I really need to-"

He swept her up in his arms and said contently: "I knew you'd agree!"

"But I didn't."

"Yes you did." He opened the door with a well-placed kick and led her out of the lab.

Bulma put her arms around his neck and sighed. He was right, of course. She really needed to go to bed. In the early years of their relationship he would have just commanded her to get out of the lab and practically verbally kick her to bed, enjoying the rush of the argument, but in the past few years he did it differently. Basically he still did whatever he wanted, but he was a lot more good humored about it. She had decided a long time ago that she liked this better. "I love you," she murmured, resting her head against his chest as he carried her up the stairs.

He just answered with an absent kiss in her hair, which about said it all.

*

(1 month and counting)

"Where are we going, Dad?" Pan inquired, fastening her bandana over her dark hair.

Gohan looked down at his beautiful eleven year old daughter and couldn't help mussing up her hair and bandana alike.

"Hey! Not the hair!" she protested.

He grinned at her, marveling over how much she was becoming a true teenager these days. She would always remain a bit of a tomboy, for that she had definitely too much of her mother in her, but she becoming more and more of a girl instead of a child every day. He loved watching his daughter grow up. "We're going to visit Dende for a bit, Pan," he told her. "I thought you might like to search for the Dragonballs."

"Do I?!" Pans eyes grew wide with excitement. "Oh dad, you are the greatest in the world!"

He opened the door and let the two of them out. Despite the fact that it was winter, the day was gorgeously bright. The sky was crisp and the world seemed full of promise and hope. He squinted against the sunlight for a moment. "There are only three more dragonballs to find," he informed her, "but it should be an adventure all the same, don't you think?"

"Yeah," his daughter bounced. "So, do you have the Dragonradar?"

"Dende has it."

"…That's why we're visiting him. Alright then!"

"Don't forget to be home for dinner," called a warm voice behind them. "We have an appointment with your family."

Gohan smiled at his wife. "Of course not. My mother would kill us if we'd be late."

"Or rather, she'd yell at you for a long time," Videl laughed. She gave her daughter a peck on the cheek and kissed him warmly. "Be careful, and you'd better have a few starry balls to present to me before dinner tonight."

"We will," Pan promised, her young face shining.

Videl nodded. "Good. Well, off you go, then!"

They took off at a slow pace. It was early in the morning, and Gohan did not want to tire Pan out needlessly. Searching for the Dragonballs usually involved all kinds of zany adventures, and she would need all of her energy for it. Of course, she had done it before. Goten, Trunks, Marron, Bra and Pan took it upon them every year to sneak off and wish for something silly with the Dragonballs. They still thought that their parents did not know what they were doing, which amused Gohan to no end. He liked the adventurous spirit of the younger generation, but that did not mean that there wasn't always one of the parents looking out for them on such adventures.

They had never needed it so far. It seemed like the new generation was very inventive and resilient where it came to adventuring. Of course, Goten and Trunks had faced worse opponents than angry baby-dragons and ravines and the weird things they would encounter on their Dragonball journeys, and Marron was responsible enough to look after Bra and Pan. And on their last adventure two years ago, before they went into space, even the youngest had looked after themselves.

This year however, Gohan would take his daughter on a quest for the four remaining Dragonballs. The one, two, four and five-star Dragonballs were currently all at the Son residence, and Gohan intended to complete that collection.

Pan was extremely giddy. She was singing and laughing, jesting with him all the way to Dende's Lookout. Dende and mr Popo were already waiting for them. Gohan shared some smiles and memories with his old friend. Dende had come far since they had met on Namek, and so had he, but they had always cherished the friendship between them. And Dende had needed a lot of friendship, especially in the first years of his Kami-status. Being a God tended to isolate you a lot, Dende had told him once.

They left within the hour, the Dragonball firmly clasped in Pan's hand. Pan had demanded to be in charge of the mission, and Gohan let her. "So, chief of the mission, where are we going?"

Pan pointed towards the North. "I think the first one is on the North Pole. We better go there first, so we have the worst part done."

"Oh great," Gohan commented. "We should have dressed warmer."

They ended up following a huge fish all over the North Pole, while the fish was swimming under the ice. Because both Pan and Gohan did not feel much for swimming so long under pack ice, they had to track him to open water first. By the time they had retrieved the seven-star Dragonball, they were soaking wet and chilled to the bone.

"I wonder why I thought this would be such a good idea," Gohan shivered, flaring his ki to warm himself and his daughter. Pan just laughed. "This is fun!"

"I already thought you'd think that."

The next two were a lot easier. One was buried ten foot under the sand in the desert, and the next they almost tripped over in a forest, hidden under some bushes. By that time, lunchtime had come and gone and they were definitely getting hungry.

"Let's get the next one quickly," Gohan proposed. Pan did not object.

The six-star Dragonball was only a few miles south, on the bottom of a little crook. They had some problems wrenching it out of the rocks it had rolled in between, but this proved to be no big difficulty either. "Yay! We did it!" Pan slapped her open palm against Gohans and did a victory dance.

"And in time for dinner, too," he grinned. "Come on, let's go home and show your mother what we've found."

*

(2 weeks and counting)

"Hey," Trunks greeted Marron as she stepped into his room. He was proud of how normal his voice sounded. It was early in the afternoon, and Trunks was browsing the internet for some colleges. He did it mostly because his mother had asked him to, but his heart was not really into it.

"Hey," said Marron. "Mind if I sit with you?"

"Of course not."

She sat down on the chair next to him.

He did not look at her, but just kept browsing. He had no idea what to say. "So what brings you here?" he asked finally.

"I wondered if you are ignoring me," she said with a bluntness that caught him completely off-guard.

He blinked at her. She looked pretty today. She was dressed all in blue, and she wore her hair loose today. It made her look younger. "What do you mean?" he stammered.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh please Trunks. I haven't seen you in ages. You used to drop by all the time. Don't you think I know something is wrong?"

He shrugged, and turned back to his browsing. "I didn't want to disturb you and your new boyfriend," he muttered.

"W-What do you mean?" she stammered, much like he had done only a minute ago.

"Well, my beloved futuristic twin and you are an item, right?" His voice was venomous, but it was too late to swallow the words back. This was how he felt, and he could not help it.

"Actually, we aren't. He needs a lot of love, but I can't give that to him. So we're just friends."

"You are?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

A silence fell. "Well, I'm glad for that," he said after a few minutes, turning away from the computer to smile at her. "Wouldn't want to interfere."

She smiled back at him. "You won't."

Trunks broke into a wide grin. "So, you want to go for a drink, then?"

"I'd love to."

*

(3 days and counting…)

It was too cold to sit on the balcony, but today Bulma did not really care. She was sitting on the edge of the railing, her feet dangling in the open air. It wasn't as if she'd fall far – her bedroom was on the second floor. She was smoking a cigarette. A nasty habit, and one she only gave in to when she was really, really stressed.

Today was such a day.

Bulma stared blearily at the stars and could not stop thinking about the date of the day. May 21st. The first day of spring. In three days horror would descend on them.

"You really shouldn't do that," a voice behind her said. "It's a nasty habit."

"It's not as if it really matters, does it? In three days it'll all be over," she answered the future version of her son crossly. She turned around to face him. He looked painfully beautiful; his eyes were dark and blue, a shade of sadness perpetually on his features. He wore his hair long these days. It waved in the spring breeze. Bulma wondered how such a perfect creature could have come forth out of her joining and Vegeta, and decided that Trunks had received the best of two worlds.

Trunks' brow furrowed. "I thought you weren't into doom thinking. That's my job."

She smiled despite herself. "True, true. I'm just worried, I guess."

"So am I." He sat down next to her and stared into the distance.

Bulma pushed out her cigarette and murmured: "I have something to confess. I need to share it with someone besides Vegeta, otherwise I'll go nuts." She ran her hands through her recently-cut short hair. "I built a doomsday device, you know…"

Trunks looked at her sharply. "What do you mean?"

She did not meet his gaze. "I managed to reproduce the armor that your Silver Terror wears. In case it all goes to hell, someone can put on the armor and end it for once and for all." She sighed. "The terrible thing is, that the one who puts it on probably goes insane in the process and ends up just as warped as the Terror. I've been running some simulations, you know, and the metal seems to reflect a lot. Ki, thoughts, such things. Imagine being in such a suit. You can't get out of it and it keeps reflecting your thoughts. At the point where you put the armor on, you're probably really angry and sad, and the suit keeps reflecting… I don't know what it will do to a human or a saiya-jin mind. So it's probably useless anyway."

"Damned if you do, and damned if you don't," Trunks mused softly. "It's a doomsday device, indeed. If the last one standing indeed has to put on the suit… he'll become one of them. And then we're back to square one."

Bulma nodded solemnly. She took a lighter and another cigarette out of the pocket of her coat and lit a new cigarette. "Yes. So I guess that most of my research has been useless. If the training hasn't been enough, we're pretty much doomed anyway."

A silence fell. For some time they were contemplating their own thoughts on the matter.

"Bring the armor anyway," Trunks suddenly said after a few minutes, when Bulma's cigarette was almost out.

"Why?"

"Because it's different than last time."

"I don't understand you."

Trunks shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I think I want a cigarette, too."

~ A/N: And yes, we're back for action! From here on, the battle will ensue.

I'd like to thank Sango for her continuous enthusiasm: you're a great help!

Cheers, Lanfir Leah