Disclaimer: I do not own and did not create DBZ or its characters. Any original characters are mine and are not to be used without written permission.

This is an alternate universe so it's obviously going to be different than what 'really' went on. If you flame me because of this I will simply ignore it. This occurs after the 'Cell Games' although things may be different than what can only went on, they will be similar. - WR

Part 2:

"The feeling of inferiority rules the mental life and can be clearly recognized in the sense of incompleteness and un-fulfillment, and in the uninterrupted struggle both of individuals and humanity." - Alfred Adler

The woman who appeared before them was not exactly what Vejiita had in mind but perhaps this was more convenient, because this one was so lacking of brains that she was able to concentrate on what she was cooking. He had absolutely decided for certain that that was the reason that she couldn't cook. It was because she lacked the patience to wait calmly, and became so absorbed in pursuits that pleased her more that she didn't awaken to the fact that she had been cooking until the shrill shrieking of the smoke detecting machines reminded her. He ignored the nagging little voice in the back of his head with practiced excellence. It sounded annoyingly like her, and announced that the only reason he wasn't the same way was because food was the most important thing in his life, beyond training.

"Oh Vejiita!"crowed the blond mother, in a way that always set his teeth on edge. "I'm sure you're starving after having saving us from those monsters! Let me make you some breakfast!" She gestured in the direction of the large honey-colored wood table that sat in before a large bay window in the kitchen. "Such a nice boy," she cooed happily.

He stared at her for an instant, his keen senses focused completely on her, hands clenching at his sides. He didn't want to be coddled, he was a hard, trained warrior, he had killed millions without a second thought, without breaking a sweat. It seemed this remained beyond her comprehension. This baffled him. He knew that this woman didn't possess anywhere near the amount of brainpower her mate wielded, and yet she had brought one of the most intelligent beings in the universe into existence, this was fact. It seemed to him that she was entirely left behind in the dust. The feeling of being surpassed time after time until counting was negligible wasn't new to him. He flipped her a sneer, and then sank down upon the cushioned seat of the hard wooden bench. He supposed he might as well keep the mother alive, no one else cooked as well as she did, with the exception of Kakkarott's mate. Just the thought of the screeching that went on anytime he was even anywhere in the vicinity of that bitch gave him a precursory headache. He eyed the golden-haired creature warily and growled as blue eyes, devoid of all intelligence, washed over his body. She tittered in her bird-like way, and blushed deeply, putting her hands to her face. He almost slapped himself at the frustration of having to be around her, but made a mental note to spare her in the event that he decided to become ruler of the universe. This was just so that his servants could learn her recipes.

"Ahhh, Trunks-kun!" she chirruped fondly at the newcomer, while Vejiita pointedly looked away from his grown son. The embarrassment he felt for an instant about the events of the months, no years, previous was soon swept away by anger, both at himself for his over-enraged reaction to his son's death and for allowing that freakish devil of a creation to achieve its final form. His blood had sung at the temptation of challenge, yet it was undeniably shameful, even in the emotionally restricted Saiyajin society, to let it kill his kin, and even more so to let the vengeance be carried out by a half-grown whelp.

"Good morning, Grandmother," the boy had answered with utmost politeness.

"Now don't you go calling me that, I'm much too young to have a grandson so grown-up and handsome! It's too bad you can't stay, I'd have so much fun matching you up with some of girls around here. They'd go wild for you!" Giggling at the thought, she turned back to flipping the fifteen pancakes she had laid out on the huge iron griddle on the stove. Trunks blushed beet-red in response, and silently looked out the window at the rising sun.

Lenora Briefs sighed as she looked at the two men sitting at her kitchen table. One she knew very well by sight, the other reminded her so much of her beloved husband as he had been as a young man. Although his features were all his father, his coloring was that of her husband, and of her daughter, before her glorious lavender hair had matured to deep blue in her early adulthood. She hoped that there would be some kind of truce called before the poor dear had to go back to his horrible time. She didn't exactly understand how it had been achieved, but she knew that her daughter could have done it. Why she had done it was obvious, her daughter was stubborn beyond belief, and yes, saving them was commendable. But why had she done it?

She had always kept her slight and clouded visions of the future to herself, and her mother, and then to her husband. It had proved useful, that little gift of hers that came to all the women in her family. Those little, wispy glimpses of what was to come coupled with a slightly stronger ability to sense the feelings of others. It had been immensely helpful when she and her love had started their company. She had passed this down to her daughter Buruma, although Buruma didn't believe that she had it. Sometimes though, she was unable to deny her foretelling dreams, and would angrily return to her mechanical projects. But her daughter couldn't deny her mother's obvious ability. She had always taught her Buruma never to interfere with the future, that there were things that were meant to happen, and that not all of them would be pleasant. It was how she had been taught, and how her mother had been, stretching back countless generations. The girl had been too headstrong, and without any guidance, had willfully created an alternate time line, although unintentionally.

She jumped slightly at the rumble that came from both stomachs currently housed in the bodies waiting patiently for sustenance. She realized she had stopped in her cooking, inadvertently burning 5 pancakes. Shaking the thoughts away, she almost grimaced as she gave the now characteristic annoying titter and saw Vejiita's eyes roll in annoyance. She was used to it now, that look her companions gave her sometimes, the look one has when nails are pulled achingly slow down a blackboard. But it was better for them not to know. Pretending to be a complete fool was better than having to explain away premonitions that sometimes didn't come true. She wasn't as smart as her husband or daughter, but it didn't mean they should automatically dismiss her as an idiot. Though, it made it far easier to garner from people what she wanted. She hastily finished cooking, set the two huge platters down in front of the two saiyajins, and put a small plate under the broiler to keep warm for her daughter. She smoothed her apron in an unconscious attempt to calm herself. It was then the vision came, as she smiled sweetly down at the two eating men, unbidden and shocking. She saw the road stretching out before them, the long journey seeming endless before peace. She almost saw it all, felt the agonizing pain of her daughter, heard the low howl of someone and then it was lost to her. And she fled helplessly to her room, hoping the tears would not overcome her before she reached it.

Buruma snarled inwardly. Why did she have to be reminded of painful aspects of her past when she was dealing with the second most devastating event of her life? Angrily, she swept her dresser of all objects, intent on finding the other silver hoop earring she removed the night before. Failing to uncover it, she burst through the door to her room, pounded down the floors of the upstairs corridor and hurled a particularly disgusting and probably priceless vase at a closed door. Her normally mild-mannered father emerged from behind it, the eyes behind his glasses glinting dangerously, but somehow sensing the impending storm, he gave her a curt nod and then fled helplessly down the stairs.

Why did this all have to happen just when she decided to quit smoking again?!

She'd given up smoking as soon as she discovered her pregnancy and today she'd decided that she would give it up for good. Smoking with a young baby in the house should be prohibited. Moodily she fluffed her semi-damp hair and resisted the urge to race back to her room and light up, letting the soothing affects of the tobacco calm her. So absorbed was she in the inner battle to not give in to selfish pleasures that she almost missed her mother running up the stairs and shutting the master bedroom door with a soft thump.

She gave an unladylike snort, surmising that one of her foolish parent's television dramas was starting. She failed to see the appeal of them, and why they were so important to her mother, especially now. The remembrance of the old Namek's words brought back to her all the rage and jealousy of her childhood. Those coupled with the feelings of insufficiency she still felt to this day.

Her mother had passed her a faulty gift.

That's what Lenora called it, a gift. To Buruma, it felt like a curse. A mar in her perfection. The gift had manifested itself within her in a way she couldn't stand. Her mother had the gift of clairvoyance, she called it. She could see the future, even in a way that Uranai Baba couldn't. Baba's foretelling wasn't a gift, it was an art that she had practiced for many years. Witches didn't come by the gift naturally, her mother had told her. It had to be honed and even then, it was ambiguous. The future stretched before them in a multitude of paths. Baba, through sheer will and skill, saw them, saw the futures that could come, but she couldn't recognize the singular driving destiny. Any decision each person made had multiple outcomes, this caused there to be multitudes of possible destinies. Baba could not distinguish between these and true destined events. She could see the future, but it was rare that she would stumble upon a large event with accuracy, although she was quite adept at smaller ones. Lenora was different. She had the sight for the true force, because hers was a genuine gift. Yet her gift lacked great strength. She couldn't call upon her gift whenever she wished, as more powerful ancestors of hers had done. Or so her mother claimed. Buruma sometimes didn't know whether or not her mother told her all of the truth. She couldn't lie about her visions, but she could withhold information, something that Buruma couldn't stand. She also couldn't stand the limits of her 'gift.'

Her mind was limitless; there wasn't anything scientific she couldn't grasp. Mechanics was what had most of her attention, but she dabbled in almost all fields with the greatest of ease. But where her gift was concerned she didn't have any power. Coming through to her in dreams, her own meager abilities in clairvoyance allowed her to see hazy bits of the future. Angered by this, most of the time she kept it repressed, and it only came back to her in the form of déjá vu. Her mother had taught her how to meditate when she was a small girl, hoping that it would calm her spirited daughter as well as help her hone her gifts. It hadn't helped. All it had done was show her how little she had. She felt some sort of extrasensory presence in her mind; it hung tantalizingly just beyond reach, beyond an uncrossable barrier. Learning anything had come easily to her, and faced with this unflinching challenge she had become enraged, stopped all her training and ignored it, never to face it again. Vejiita changed all that. After their night of passion, the prodigal gift returned in full force. Even her most vivid foretelling dreams involved him. She knew he returned during the night for a specific reason. She dreamt it.

And Piccolo's words brought back to her the meeting she had years and years ago. With Kami. She'd almost forgotten it till now...but she could still call back the events as plainly as if they'd happened yesterday. She'd been barely twenty then, and went to visit Goku at the Sky Palace, when she'd come face to face with the old Namekian who watched over her planet.

"Buruma, my child, what brings you here on this beautiful day?" the stooping figure had asked.

"I've come to visit Goku!" she had replied haughtily. "If you're Kami and all, shouldn't you know that already?"

"Sharp as ever, that fiery nature shall serve you well..." he had laughed softly, the wheezy laugh of the very old.

"I have enough of that pathetic fortune-telling from my mother." She'd spat out the last few words.

"And what of your gift my dear?"

"I have no gift you old doddering old fool!" she raged back at him, her eyes narrowing.

"Child, your gift is such that you are displeased with it. This is unfortunate, for it will be needed, however far in the future it may be."

She snorted in response.

"Believe it or not. Just know that I have powers that go beyond your mothers, beyond Uranai Baba. As you are still young yet, perhaps you would have me quiet your powers for now."

She nodded slowly, and stepped closer. She trusted him. After all, he was God of Earth. "If you would, I would be rid of them entirely."

"It is not in my power to remove what the Creators have given you, but I shall silence it, for a time." He laid a wrinkled hand on her brow, and she'd felt the calming feeling within her. He would not lie, and she rejoiced at the idea of not seeing the vague dreams of the future again.

"Thank you, for your kindness Kami-sama." He chucked at her use of his formal title.

"I have simply slowed and silenced the gift within you. But for this favor, I must ask for one in return. When I return to you, the time of your destiny is near. I may come in my true form, but I do not know if that will come to pass, and if it does, I shall not be unknown to you. When this happens, come with your husband and grown son to this place once more, when the sun and moon both bathe the world with their light. Will you promise to do this?"

She pondered his request. If he had referred to her husband, who she hoped would be Yamucha, and her grown son, it must be that this wouldn't take place for a great many years. And by then, he might forget anyhow. "I will promise you this, but only because you have lifted me of this curse."

He smiled a knowing smile. "I told you, I could not remove the gift. When it starts to return, know that what must come to pass is approaching."

Snarling, she ignored his last statement, for she preferred her version to his own. "If you don't mind I'd really like to see Goku, seeing as he's the reason I came all the way up here!"

Sighing, she leaned against the side of the hallway. Kami and Piccolo had rejoined. That was what he must have meant by his true form, because he was now whole again. She was tempted not to keep the promise, because Kami really was no more. Piccolo, however, seemed to retain everything, so could she really say Kami was gone? What she would do, if she chose to, was obvious. She would have to bring Vejiita, because that was the closest thing she had to a husband. She'd also have to bring the Trunks from the future. Kami must have known somehow that he would come backwards in the stream of time. Trunks would be easy...but convincing Vejiita... Still, she remained confident in her abilities to manipulate the Saiyajin Prince into doing what she wanted. Blackmailing him with no gravity chamber would be enough. She just had to get them to the Sky Palace on time. Smirking in self-satisfaction at her brilliance, she deduced she'd have to get them there just at sunset, when the moon would be rising. That meant she had to calm herself and steal the chamber and hide it before Vejiita noticed. Her self-assured additude soon returning, she masked her pain and with her head held high, walked down the stairs and toward the kitchen.