Chapter Sixteen

Zarah glanced at the clock to see the working day was over. He quickly picked up the phone and dialed Bra.

"Hello?"

"Bra, it's me. We have a problem . . ."

Bulma Briefs glanced up to see her only daughter enter her lab. Taking off her goggles, she smiled and motioned for her to come closer.

"Bra, it's been a long time since you've come in my lab."

"I know," Bra returned the smile, "I don't want to be influenced by your ideas."

"That's my girl," Bulma put down her cutting touch. "So what gives?"

"I need you to do me a favor," Bra picked at imaginary lint on her sleeve.

"What kind of favor?" Bulma was suspicious when her daughter continued to avoid eye-contact.

"I just need you to distract dad," Bra glanced at her mother quickly.

A blue brow was arched.

"From what? You're not going on a date are you?"

"No, it's just . . . We're having a private tournament Saturday and we didn't want the parents to be involved." Bra answered swiftly.

Bulma sighed and sat on her desk.

"Spill Bra, I know you're up to something and I am not going to help distract you're father unless I know the real reason."

Noticing the stern line of her mother's mouth, Bra took her turn to sigh and told her mother everything. From the incident in the office where Maron fussed over Trunks to the incident in Maron's office where he was concerned for her health.

"Trunks and Maron?" Bulma blinked her big blue eyes.

"Will you distract dad?" Bra pleaded, opening her eyes as wide as she could.

"Yes," Bulma laughed at Bra's tactics. "And put those things away, I'm not your dad. Hmm, Trunks and Maron . . . they'll make a cute couple."

"Thanks mom!" Bra hugged her mother and dashed from the room.

Bulma had a moment to giggle before her only son entered the room.

"Mom?" Trunks poked his head in, "Can I talk to you?"

"Of course you can, Trunks," Bulma crossed her arms. "What's on your mind?"

"Well, actually I need more of a favor," Trunks rubbed the back of his neck in a habit he had picked up from Goten. "Can you distract dad this Saturday for me?"

Arching both brows, Bulma concealed her surprise at the identical request. Why would they ask for the same thing unless . . .

"Why?"

"We're having a tournament-"

"The real reason, Trunks, or no go," she gave away nothing.

Trunks revealed everything and confirmed Bulma's suspicions. Her children were plotting against each other in hopes of getting the other to experience romantic love. It was kind of cute when one thought about it and, typical, when it came to her children.

"Ok, I'll do it," she smiled.

"Oh, could you call Goten's mom and let her in," Trunks smiled as well, "We can't have his dad trying to enter as well."

"No prob," Bulma winked at him, "I'll take care of it."

The phone rang in the Son household.

"Hello?" Chichi stuck the phone between her ear and shoulder so she could keep stirring her cake mix, made from scratch of course.

"Hey Chi," Bulma greeted casually.

"Hello Bulma," Chichi smiled at her nickname.

"I have a favor to ask," Bulma twisted the cord around her fingers.

"Oh?" Chichi set the bowl down and to Bulma her full attention. "How could I possibly help you?"

Sasoli peeked her head into the cave to find her dad poking her mom's shoulder. Her mom was one step away from exploding.

"Dad!"

17 glanced up and pulled his hand back, narrowly avoiding getting his finger snapped off by his wife.

"Sasoli," he smiled and went to her, "When did you get back?"

She relished the hug he gave her though she participated very little.

"A couple of hours ago. Zarah needed me," Sasoli linked arms with her father.

"Oh? What for?" 17 guided his daughter out into the wilderness.

Ava sighed with relief.

"Finally."

Father and daughter strolled through the forest as they talked. This was a ritual that had developed ever since she had started working, her dad had thought it was so cool she was a spy so naturally he wanted to know all the details.

"So I slapped him with fraud, slander, and sexual harassment," Sasoli finished the tail of her latest excursion.

17 beamed with pride.

"No one takes advantage of my Sasoli."

Sasoli smirked at her father.

"So what's the deal with you and Mom?"

"Oh that," 17's eyes became playful. "She thought she could ignore me."

Sasoli giggled at him and hit his arm playfully.

"I might have a reason for you to bother her, this time."

"Oh?"

"We're plotting against our cousins in a tournament and I need you to distract mom so she won't come to watch." Sasoli met her father's eyes.

"For how long?" His eyes were calculating.

"A couple of hours or so," Sasoli grinned, "I'm sure you can handle it."

"Hmm," 17 tilted his head to the side, "I can distract her, yes, but for hours on end . . ."

"Think of it as a challenge," Sasoli pleaded, "I'll spill all of Zarah's secrets if you are successful."

"What kind of secrets?" 17 was interested, "Are they juicy?"

"Very," Sasoli patted his arm, "But only if you help me."

"Done."

The next day at work proved very interesting.

Goten had appeared in Trunks' office for his directions for the day when Sasoli appeared in a ball gown with tuxedo in hand. She dragged away the bewildered Son and Trunks was left alone.

Further investigation revealed that she was teaching Goten how to dance in sophisticated affairs.

Trunks attention was drawn away from his best friends plight when Zarah's outraged scream sounded in his office.

"It's gone," was all the saiyan-android would say when asked what was wrong.

"What's gone?" Trunks glanced around Zarah's office.

"My new invention," Zarah despaired as he sat forlornly on the ground. "Someone stole three vials of my invention."

"What was it?" Trunks became concerned.

Zarah's eyes were shadowed and a muscle in his jaw ticked.

Without a word, he regained his feet and marched from the room. Trunks followed hot on his heels as he demanded more information on the objects stolen.

Trunks wasn't surprised when they ended up in the security camera room. Zarah was one of the only employees who demanded security cameras in his office, for the others it was mandatory.

Trunks sighed and leaned against the wall to wait for the results. Zarah was obviously not going to tell him anything until he was ready.

"Oh my god," his cousin gasped, "Maron's choking!"

"What?" Trunks snapped to attention, "Where?"

"She's in the snack room," Zarah pointed at the screen, "No one is helping her."

Trunks took one glance and raced from the room.

"Maron, are you ok?" A random secretary inquired.

Maron nodded her head yes despite her watering eyes. One of the girls had surprised her while she was drinking her coffee so now she coughed violently to clear her air passage.

Everyone jumped as the door exploded inward and the unmistakable figure of the president came in at full speed.

"Maron!" Trunks grabbed her, "Don't worry, I'll give you the Heimlich!"

Maron struggled with huge eyes.

"Trunks, I'm fine." She managed to rasp out before she continued her choking fit.

"Fine?" Trunks glanced at the other women for help when he realized where he was: The Break room.

A icy finger of fear drew a line down his back and made him shiver.

"She drank her coffee too fast," one woman answered while batting her eyes.

"Oh," Trunks fidgeted awkwardly and beat a hasty retreat to the exit only to find it blocked off.

"Have some coffee with us, Mr. President," One offered with a coy wink.

Trunks took a step back and glanced around wearily for any other escape routes.

There were none.

"Um, ok."

At least ten smiles lit up the room and dashed to the coffee machine.

Trunks uncovered his face and realized they had unwittingly left the path to the door wide open.

"Trunks?"

Trunks flinched at the sound of his name and immediately felt guilty as Maron blinked watery eyes at him.

He had forgotten all about her.

"Maron, we should get out of here," Trunks whispered and reached for her when something went terribly wrong.

Zarah watched the security camera closely and kept a light grip on his handheld trigger.

"Closer, closer . . ." Zarah pushed the button, "Now!"

Trunks shivered as a draft seemed to encompass his entire body. The temperature of the room was lowered quite suddenly as well as eerily silent.

"You go ahead, Trunks," Maron finally cleared her throat of all invading liquid. "I'm fine."

Trunks withdrew his hand, concerned suddenly with the sight of his arm. Where did his sleeve go? With building panic Trunks became aware that somehow all of his clothes had disappeared.

A quick glance affirmed that Maron hadn't noticed since her eyes were still watery but as he turned to leave . . . he was met with a least twenty sets of hungry eyes.

Zarah glared at the camera as every woman chased Trunks from the break room except Maron.

"Damn," Zarah cursed softly, "Why doesn't she cooperate?"

He watched idly as his cousin ran desperately trying to outpace his pursuers so he could phase from sight.

"You're going to have to run faster than that," he observed. "Great, now I feel bad."

With a sigh Zarah left the security room.

"Now, I'll have to tell Pan."

Maron glanced around the now empty room.

"Where did everyone go?"

"All right, now dip me," Sasoli ordered.

Goten complied, now this type of dancing was something he was more comfortable with and it was kind of fun.

He lifted her and turned her into a graceful spin.

"You picked this up pretty fast, Goten," Sasoli praised him.

"Thanks," Goten ducked his head slightly as he remembered her instructions.

When they were ballroom dancing, he was to act superior and worldly while she took on a more demure attitude. 'Cause only the rich and the extremely rich still participated in this type of recreation and he had to play the part of the man's man if he were to have any hope of gaining any information.

Sasoli nodded her approval when she stopped dancing.

Goten gave her what he hoped was an arrogant but questioning look when he turned to find his best friend running towards them.

Then they both realized he was naked.

"Distract them!" Trunks ordered as he ran by.

Sasoli and Goten had a second to wonder when a mob of women were sighted.

Sasoli moved to the middle of the hallway without hesitation and faced them head on. Goten gulped and backed off a step.

The mob continued to advance as it gained in size when other secretaries joined it's ranks.

At the last moment Sasoli pulled down a hidden zipper on her skirt and whipped it off.

The mob stumbled to a halt at the sudden whirl and twirl of fabric.

Goten blinked as Sasoli held them at bay with nothing more than her skirt. He was also surprised to note that she wore another shorter skirt under it.

"Goten!" Sasoli threw the huge piece of fabric at him, "Take this to Trunks! At his office!"

Goten caught the fabric and ran.

"Now," Sasoli faced the mob without fear, "Where do you think you are going?"

"Trunks?!" Goten called trying to feel out his location.

He couldn't lock onto his signature, it was like his friend was too panicked to even use his power to escape.

"Damn it!" Goten cursed under his breath and ran into Maron.

"Oh!" She almost went sprawling to the ground but caught herself on the wall.

"Maron!" Goten was immediately contrite, "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, Goten." Maron glanced at the long trailing piece of fabric, "What's that?"

"Sasoli's skirt," Goten answered, "Maron, can you do me a favor?"

"Um, sure, I guess." Maron shrugged.

"Run this to Trunks' office, I need to help Sasoli."

The fabric was shoved into Maron's arms and then Goten was gone.

Maron stood there for a moment before calmly going to the elevator and set it for the top floor.

"What's going on?" She frowned, "And where is everyone?"

Sasoli watched with grim satisfaction as most of the mob disintegrated in the face of a strong female presence. Though, she knew they were just going to try another route to get to Trunks.

She shrugged, wasn't her problem. He told her to distract them, not stop them.

Goten skidded to a halt in an empty hallway.

A soft muttering caught his attention.

"If there was something I never wanted to see . . ." Bra turned the corner and was walking with her eyes closed.

"Bra?"

She peeked a look at him and was relieved when she saw clothes.

"Yes?"

"Have you seen Trunks?"

"More than I wanted to," Bra muttered and walked off.

Goten just watched her when Sasoli reappeared.

"There you are," she grabbed his arm and pulled him in another direction. "I need to teach you how to meringue and salsa."

"What about ballroom dancing?"

"We're done with that," Sasoli shot him a pointed look. "We'll work on your superior attitude later. Now, when you dance to Latin music, everything about you must be flirtatious."

"Flirtatious?" Goten asked as he was yanked around the corner.

Maron had just reached the door to Trunks' office when she heard a commotion behind her.

She had just enough time to turn when she was knocked of her feet. The fabric was yanked from her and she gasped at the sudden sight of Trunks holding it around his waist.

"Trunks?" She squeaked as she found herself yanked to her feet and into his office.

She had an instant to glimpse at least fifty women running full speed toward the door before it was slammed shut. Trunks hurriedly put the ten dead bolts into place while holding the fabric in place.

"What happened to your clothes?" Maron tried not to notice the smooth play of muscles under his skin.

Trunks spun around in alarm when he remembered who she was.

"I . . ." he swallowed nervously, "I don't know. One minute I was trying to help you and the next my clothes disappeared."

"Oh," Maron turned away discreetly.

"Sorry, I knocked you down." The sound of a zipper, "But I couldn't stop, they would have caught me."

"Right," Maron snuck a glance at him.

Trunks was frowning at the skirt around his hips.

"Wasn't Sasoli wearing this?"

"I got it from Goten," Maron shrugged and pretended not to notice his six pack.

"Goten?" His frown became darker.

"Yeah," Maron pulled at the hem of her shirt.

"I see," Trunks moved past her to a closet and opened it.

"Damn!"

"What is it?" Maron reached out to touch his shoulder but stopped.

"I ran out of emergency clothes," Trunks closed the closet door and leaned against it.

He rubbed his face.

"Emergency clothes?" Maron lifted a brow.

A blush formed, "Yeah. Jeez, how am I going to explain this to my dad?"

They both jumped as someone pounded on the door.

"TRUNKS!"

"Bra," Trunks exhaled, relieved as he opened the door.

As soon as it was opened a training suit was thrown in his face.

"I thought you might need something to wear," Bra's lips twisted as she spotted his skirt. "Cute."

"Really, I thought it clashed with his hair," Maron's lips quirked.

"Playing kinky games in your office, Trunks?" Bra smirked as he sputtered, "I'll leave you to it."

"Bra!" He finally got out but was met with laughter as his sister sauntered off.

"Trunks," Maron regained his attention, "She's just joking."

Tomato-faced, Trunks grumbled about 'stupid sisters' and disappeared into his private bathroom.

Maron fanned herself with her hand absently and thought to herself, 'The skirt might have clashed with his hair but it flattered his physique. Yes, it was [very] nice.'

Bra made her way down to her lab when she heard music. Thankfully it wasn't the mindless music of yesterday, this music was more complex than that and strangely catchy.

She peeked into the open room and was met with a giggling Sasoli turning in Goten's arms.

"You have wonderful rhythm, Goten, but then I always knew you did," Sasoli breathed into his face and laughed when he winked at her.

Bra watched them flirt and twist in such intricate turns, it was amazing they didn't get tangled together forever.

"Move your hips just a little more," Sasoli moved them herself. "Like this, remember this kind of dancing is like making love to a woman, it's all in the hips."

Goten grinned devilishly at her as he dipped her.

"Oh, I think it takes more than that."

They both looked up at the gasp.

"Bra!" Goten eeped and dropped Sasoli.

Sasoli sighed and made herself comfortable on the floor. She propped her head on her hand.

"And our lesson was going so well," she remarked dryly. "Then you had to go and make him clam up gain."

Goten was red, again.

Bra opened her mouth to retort when the phone rang.

She snatched it off the hook, "Hello?"

"Bra? Is Goten there?" Trunks' voice came out over the line.

"Yes, he's right here. Why?" Bra glared at the errant Son.

"I need to ask him why he was running around with Sasoli's skirt," Trunks answered, "Now put him on the phone."

"That skirt was Sasoli's!"

"PUT Goten on the phone."

Bra's glare turned deadly, "Goten."

"Yes?" Goten cringed as she leveled her scowl at him.

"Phone," she snapped.

Sasoli lips turned wryly as she got off the floor.

"Something the matter, Bra? You seem a little tense."

"I'm fine," She fixed her cousin with a cold look.

Sasoli turned off the music.

"Is that a fact," she gave her a skeptical glance and then stared at Goten. "He's going to make a good spy, one day, with proper training."

Bra listened with one ear.

"He has only one fault."

Bra gave her full attention.

"He can't switch his personality on cue without a lot of prompting. It took me almost an hour to get him to act like a pompous asshole and, even then, it was hard to hold. Flirtatious is easier but, as you saw, he is easily startled out of it and embarrassed."

Blue met hard blue.

"We can't have that in the field."

Bra's brow creased with concern and opened her mouth to reply when Goten's exclamation caught her attention.

"Trunks! Sasoli had another skirt under . . . ! What?! No! Of course not! I . . . Trunks . . . She's just training me to blend into crowds." He was bright red, "Trunks! Ok . . . Ok, bye."

Sasoli and Bra exchanged glances as Goten tried to avoid eye contact with both of them.

"What was that all about?" Both girls crossed their arms expectantly.

"Trunks was . . ." Goten rubbed the back of his head, "He wanted to know why I was running around with Sasoli's skirt and if I had any designs on her."

Sasoli laughed outright while Bra's mouth dropped open.

"Nice to know Trunks is concerned with property," Sasoli smirked, amused with Bra's reaction.

"Why . . ." Bra licked her lips and tried again. "Trunks warned you to stay away from Sasoli and not me?"

"Not stay away, not pursue," Sasoli linked arms with Goten. "Besides, you hate him so it would be redundant."

Bra's mouth snapped shut. She turned on her heel and slammed the door shut.

Goten flinched at the resounding bang while Sasoli pretended not to notice.

"What crawled into her soup?" She patted his arm and let go.

Goten just stared absently at the door.

Trunks reappeared wearing the skin tight spandex made famous by his father with only minimal discomfort.

Maron didn't know which was worse, trying to pretend she couldn't see his upper torso in the skirt or his whole body in the suit. It was like a second skin!

The door opened again and Zarah stepped in, stopped, and stared.

"You are going to train?" Zarah cocked his head, confused.

"No," Trunks sighed, "MY clothes disappeared mysteriously and I needed something to wear."

"They disappeared?" He blinked in shock.

"Yes," Trunks nodded solemnly, "This needs to be investigated."

"No, it doesn't," Zarah lowered his head ashamed. "It was my invention."

Silence prevailed and then became tense.

"What?" Trunks' entire body was tense and ready to launch across the room.

Maron glanced between them worriedly.

Zarah didn't look up.

"That was the invention that was stolen from my office."

"Stolen?" Maron reiterated watching Trunks tense even more, "Do you mean the invention that melted the metal?"

"Yes?"

"Metal?" The detail leaked into Trunks' infuriated brain.

"Yes, I invented a substance that makes any inorganic material dissipate," Zarah lifted his head miserably. "It's perfectly capable of making your clothes disappear."

Trunks trembled with rage. Someone had deliberately sprayed him with Zarah's invention with the intention to humiliate him! A freak accident, he could handled but sabotage . . .

"You mentioned they stole three samples," Trunks inquired softly.

"Two now," Zarah flinched at the tone of his voice.

"I see." Trunks stomped his way to the window to glare at the heavens.

Zarah touched Maron's arm gently to get her attention.

"Maybe we should go," Zarah tugged her arm.

Trunks continued to glare.

"Zarah."

"Yes?"

"I can't wait for this tournament."

Zarah winced and continued to pull Maron from the office.

"I don't understand," she glanced back, "Why can't he wait?"

"Because now he feels helpless, angry, and frustrated," Zarah's whole demeanor changed from scared animal to kid in the playground.

"And there's nothing better than a good fight to get rid of those feelings." Zarah paused for a moment, "If you're not married that is."

End of Chapter Sixteen