Mikayla stuck her arm under warm running water, washing away nightmarish evidence. She tore through her medicine cabinet looking for her supply of gauze and antiseptic, forgetting in her panicked state of mind the demi sleeping on her couch.

Or rather, making his way slowly to her bedroom.

She let a few swears escape her when the light in the bedroom flicked on and a soft whisper of her name carried through the vacant room. She grabbed her short satin robe off its hook and quickly tied it about her. Doing so drew attention to her blood soaked pajama bottom pants. Nothing to be done but to keep Gohan's attention away from them.

"Mikayla?" The sudden appearance of his head startled her, even though he was expected, and she jumped. His eyebrow shot up. "Something wrong?"

"No!" She paused. "Headache..." she pointed to her head. Sleeves! Sleeves! Arm down! Arm down! Her arm slammed to her side. His eyebrow lowered and the other one raised.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose when she didn't elaborate further. If she was hiding something, he wasn't going to find out by being angry with her. He tried a different approach.

"I'm sorry."

"Beg your pardon?"

He ran his hands lightly over her upper arms and looked deeply into her eyes. "I'm sorry for being angry with you earlier."

"Ya know, you really shouldn't wear those stupid glasses. You have... the most... amazing... eyes..." He had lowered his lips to hers and kissed her passionately. She pulled back when she felt him tug at the belt holding her robe and secret together.

"What are you doing?" She couldn't keep the fear from her voice.

He smirked. "Nothing we haven't done before." He misunderstood the confusion that crossed her face. "I'm not leaving you this time. I promise."

When she stepped back, he started to feel himself growing irritated again. He calmed before it could get out of hand. "We're getting married," he reminded her.

She clutched the robe tighter about her body and gave him a wide-eyed stare.

"I'm going to pretend that that isn't a look of horror at the prospect of having to spend the rest of your life with me," and he left her alone in the bathroom.

Kami! I forgot! Soon he'll be spending the night with me every night and I can't hold him off forever! Looks like I'm gonna need some help.

Mikayla growled in frustration at the computer screen. Two hours. Two bloody hours of scanning through web pages and search engines and no answer to her problem. Outside, the morning rain pelted against her office window heavily and she concentrated on the sound to soothe away the impending headache.

The cool breeze that infiltrated the room through the open window was refreshing and she inhaled deeply of the summer scent. Stretching, she felt invigorated. New ideas assaulted her brain and she attacked the keyboard with a new vitality. A world's worth of information at her fingertips... there just HAD to be an answer somewhere.

"Not that I'm minding the company, but why aren't you sparring?"

Mikayla looked up as Fred, the network computer dork, entered the room. He placed a cup of hot cocoa in front of her and casually sipped at his latte and leaned against Piccolo's desk.

"No one is gonna want to kiss you with coffee breath you know."

"Sure they will."

"Yeah? Like who?"

"Coffee goddesses."

Mikayla snorted. "I was struck with ideas and am researching them." It was a valid excuse... she'd done it before.

"Need some help?"

"Eh? No, I got it, thanks. I've got to learn to do something on my own without resorting to having someone else complete it for me."

"That would certainly be a first."

"Don't you have some routing problems to see to?" she tossed him a small notebook marked 'complaints.' He briefly scanned the latest one and groaned.

"You know this woman is just trying to pinch my butt again. I've never found any real problems with that computer." He sighed. "Let me route this immediately and appropriately into my circular in-box." The notebook made a slight 'thud' sound as in hit the bottom of the plastic trash can. Mikayla smirked.

"Sometimes... there are just no words for you."

"I know, too cute, eh?"

"Oh sure, cute... that's just the word I was looking for."

Now he smirked. "I'm sure it was. Well if you need any help, let me know okay?"

She nodded, her attention already diverted back to the screen, sipping her hot cocoa. If he had been a half second slower leaving the room, he would've seen her mid-sip pause and her eyes widen.

It was some hours or minutes later, having lost all track of the time, when she stood inside the woman's tiny apartment. From the outside, it hadn't looked like much and she hadn't known what to expect. It was sparsely furnished, a couch and table that might've been the height of fashion a couple of decades ago, now worn and the patterns faded.

There was nothing on the walls. No pictures, photos, but it did look freshly painted. As a matter of fact... she could still smell the residual fumes.

"I found your website and --"

"I have no website," she called from the kitchen.

"Oh, right, well then um, I'm --"

"Mikayla... I know of you." The young woman appeared with two glasses of water.

This did not surprise Mik. The other had bright red, wavy hair and violet eyes identical to her own. This feels like the freakin' Twilight Zone.

She smirked when she received no response to her statement. "Your name is not spoken of well in certain... circles."

Mik raised an eyebrow. "You must know then, that I have no clue as to who you are."

She smiled. "My name is Kaiya."

"Kaiya, huh?" She nodded. "How do you know me?"

Kaiya motioned for her to sit on the couch and she did so. After handing her a glass, she sat as well, sitting so she half faced her. She set her glass on the table and reached for a satchel hanging from the sash around her waist and nestled comfortably in the folds of her long skirt. Opening it, she pulled out a square tin, green with gold markings. She held it up. "This is a salve for your wounds."

Mikayla's eyes widened slightly. "Excuse me?"

"Your wounds... a salve. Let me show you."

Mikayla didn't know why she let Kaiya take her arm and unwind the bandages. But she did, and with extreme care, Kaiya touched the sensitive flesh with the healing balm. Her cuts burned and tingled but it lasted only a few moments as the skin was seared whole again. Kaiya looked upon Mik's still impassive face with pity. She knew how much the healing hurt before it was complete. Mik just stared.

"It must've been awful for you." No response. Just stared at her arm. Her unmarked arm.

"I know all about you. Your dreams. Your wounds. Your business. Your love. Your real parentage."

"This is nuts! YOU are nuts!"

Kaiya grinned at that. "No... more like a cousin."

Mikayla's eyes glared at her. "WHAT are you?"

"Gypsy. As are you."

"No. I was born and raised in Adaccaville, Sch-"

"Raised, yes. Born, no."

Mikayla sat there, stunned for a minute. The likeness to this woman was uncanny, there was no denying it, and she had never spoken to her before, yet she knew so much. "I need to sit down."

Kaiya looked amused. "You are sitting down."

"Oh, then I better stand." She stood and set her untouched water on the table. Pacing the room, she ran her younger years through her head, trying to find any indication of any mention of adoption from her parents.

"Know this, Mikayla... it is not just you your night demons are trying to extract their revenge on. It is also that man you take as your own."