by DoraMouse
Act 4
Prior to the age of 31, Vegeta had spent his entire life either asleep in spacepod - and the single passenger spacepods were generally too small to be comfortable, certainly too small for any luggage - or fighting wars on alien worlds. Hence, it hadn't made sense to accumulate any material possessions. Why bother to collect things if you didn't have a chance to use them? Why worry about possessions when you woke up each day expecting to die? Besides, the intergalactic army had provided all of the most basic essentials for survival. Food. Clothes. Weapons. Medicine. For a low-ranked soldier to keep anything other than what the army had issued... Could have been seen as ungrateful, rude and maybe even rebellious behavior. A punishable offense.
So Vegeta had a room of his own at the Capsule Corp mansion. But at first, he hadn't added much of anything to it. Hadn't even rearranged the furniture. He'd needed the space, that was all. Since then... It was amazing how much junk had piled up. Well. Not junk. Not exactly. Weird little stuff, mostly. Stuff that Bulma had enjoyed confusing the hell out of him with. There were some items that Vegeta still didn't understand. Bulma had told him what each item was for but - on more than one occasion - she had lied to him. Deliberately. Because she found it so profoundly entertaining when he did something wrong.
Once, Bulma had informed him that rocks were considered a valid form of payment. Not having ever paid for anything before - and being of the mindset that humans were strange creatures anyway - Vegeta had believed her. The result had been fairly embarrassing. Not quite as embarrassing as the time when Bulma had swapped a bar of soap for a roll of lipstick, but still.
He'd gotten even with her, of course. Eventually. Not that she had ever admitted defeat. If anything, the paybacks had served only to inspire Bulma to find new and better ways to make him look like an absolute idiot.
Anyway. Currently his room held the scattered reminders of each valuable lesson that Vegeta had learned on Earth. Among other things. Drawings that Trunks had scribbled as a toddler. A teddy bear that Bura had stubbornly insisted on leaving in his room. Photographs. Cards. Books. Tools. Gifts that he'd received on the all the various holidays that humans celebrated. Honestly, the only objects in the room that Vegeta had picked out were his clothes and some personal supplies - including a modest assortment of gym equipment.
Because he had to keep training. He'd always trained. In truth, he wasn't sure what else to do with himself sometimes. More than once, Vegeta had contemplated the idea of taking up a hobby of some sort. But he was fifty-four years old. Seemed kind of late to change, to start something new. And why should he have to change, anyway? Hadn't he changed enough already? Couldn't at least one thing stay the same? Vegeta LIKED training. He was good at training. He...
"What happened to the gravity chamber?"
Goku had been standing by the window and thinking the question for at least five minutes. It was such an obvious question. Practically begging to be asked. Goku had probably hoped to get an answer without having to put the thought into words. Because the gravity chamber was usually outside, behind the mansion. Sitting in a shallow crater. And the window in Vegetas room faced that crater. So Goku could see exactly what Vegeta had seen earlier, right after finding the note on his door. The crater was there. But the gravity chamber was missing.
Clean. Sterile. White walls. Tile floors. A maze of little square rooms cluttered with shelves and paperwork. Like a hospital and a library combined. Only smaller. Colder. And quieter, much quieter.
Goten hadn't given a lot of thought to morgues. In truth, he hadn't given much thought to death. He was aware of the concept but it wasn't something that he'd dwelled on. Not recently, anyway. Goten was eighteen years old and healthy. He didn't expect to die anytime in the near future. He didn't remember dying ten years ago. But somewhere between the movies and video games... He'd constructed a mental image of what a morgue should look like.
This wasn't it.
Goten stood in a reception room. Bright carpet on the floor. Bright paintings on the walls. Live plants. Loud music. Comfortable chairs. Stacks of old magazines. Assorted knick-knacks. A television. A vending machine. All very cheery and normal and... Who would have ever guessed? Hrm. Maybe the reception room was also the staff lounge?
Videl was in the adjoining office. Speaking to someone. About her father.
See? I was right. Goten thought.
Goten was perfectly willing to admit that Videl was the more practiced detective. In fact, that was exactly why Videl would need his help. She was known. And not just as a detective, either. Most of the world population considered Videl a celebrity. So yes, Videl had connections. And yes, she could gain access - easily and legally - to places and people that regular detectives couldn't. But was anyone going to be honest with Videl when they KNEW that she was a part-time investigator? Would anybody even really pay attention to her questions? Would people be too eager to rant about Mr. Satan instead?
Just keep talking.
Yes. Working with Videl was a good idea. Because as long as people were focused on Videl then Goten was free to sneak around unnoticed.
It was probably dangerous to search for evidence this way. Probably illegal. But Goten had already resolved not to take anything. If - and that was a big if - there was any evidence... He just wanted to see it. Wanted to know what the evidence was and where it was. Videl could figure out a legal way to get whatever they needed.
Lotus Medical Center. West Capital City Police Headquarters. Capsule Corp. All the places they could have started their search for clues. And they were here, instead. In a building that looked like it might have been a restaurant at some point. It wasn't even a full scale morgue. Just a small place for special cases that required more attention than usual. Kind of disturbing, actually, that Videl had known to come here.
Goten was desperately trying to avoid a specific thought. He was fast and silent and careful not to leave fingerprints on anything as he moved from room to room. He knew exactly what he was looking for. But - irony of ironies - he didn't want to see it.
A corpse.
These rooms were closer to what Goten had expected of a morgue. Small and sterile and cold, with tile floors and white walls. And knives. Lots of knives. Entire sets of them, neatly organized by the type and size of the blade. And tables. Flat metal tables. Just the right size for an operation. And the smell...
Goten felt dizzy. Mentally screaming for fresh air. But the only window he'd seen had been in the reception room. He couldn't go back yet.
He didn't want to go forward. The stench - a mix of blood and dust and rot and industrial strength cleaning fluid - got worse ahead. Covering his nose didn't help. His eyes watered. Goten squinted his way towards next room, hoping to have this over with quickly.
It was over quickly. Sort of. A blur, Goten departed the building and threw up. He spent an absent moment wondering if either his brother or father had reacted the same way the first time they'd seen a humanoid corpse. Inwardly, Goten shrugged. He would never know. It wasn't something he felt that he could ask. And it didn't matter. Why compare himself to them? He would never be...
Voices. Goten regained his composure and stepped away from the curb, tuning in to the world around him. The city was huge and active. Traffic jammed the airways. Clusters of pedestrians roamed the sidewalks. People running out to the street and throwing up in the gutter was apparently a normal event in this area. As near as Goten could tell, he hadn't drawn much attention. A few sideways glances in passing but that was it.
A soft breeze. The smooth hiss of airbrakes and landing gear.
The number of glances increased. Everything seemed to slow down. Goten eyes widened and then narrowed. His aura blistering with all the angry little emotions that came to life. He watched, tense and silent with clenched fists, as the vehicle landed in front of him.
It was a luxury vehicle. One of a kind. Not for sale to the general public. Compact and daring and red. With a personalized license plate. And a single passenger. A young man, maybe nineteen or twenty. Medium tall, athletic build. Casual clothes with designer labels. Blue eyes. Pale lavender hair.
Trunks.
He didn't speak to Goten. Didn't look in Gotens direction. Didn't even pretend to acknowledge his former best friend. Trunks simply capsulized his vehicle and walked away. Towards the building. Towards the corpse.
Goten, abruptly hating every nanosecond that he had spent in this city, turned on his heels. Reluctantly and wordlessly, he returned to the office where he'd left Videl.
To a stranger, it might have seemed as if Vegeta had just ignored the question. As if he hadn't heard it, maybe. However anyone who knew Vegeta halfway decently couldn't have overlooked the way in which Vegeta had ignored the question. Even creatures unable to detect ki might have read it in his stance. Vegeta had only asked for help maybe two or three times in his life - once while dying. He just wasn't the sort who could admit that he didn't always have all the answers.
Goku noticed.
He couldn't help notice. Goku knew Vegetas mind pretty dang well. No surprise there. They had fused once - ten years ago, in an attempt to defeat Buu. Hard not to understand someone after you've shared a physical body with their spirit. Beyond that, though... Well. Years of fighting in ridiculous battles all over the universe had given Goku a lot of experience with fear. As a child, he had always been so open and confident. These days... Eh. The less said, the better. Goku couldn't avoid worrying. Yet he didn't want to dwell on all the 'what ifs' - all the questions that he couldn't answer. But it was a challenge, sometimes, to stay focused on the moment. And not one that he was always successful with.
Which was more than enough to allow Goku to recognize even the most subtle hints of fear and worry in others.
Not good. Goku concluded.
Vegeta either didn't know what had happened to the gravity chamber or he knew but wasn't saying anything. And when Vegeta decided not to say anything... Well. Perhaps Vegeta had survived some kind of brutal prisoner of war training out in space. Or perhaps he'd survived actual capture and interrogation before. The point was that Vegeta was not easy to get information from. And that was just on a regular basis. In a situation like this... It would probably take telepathy. Or hypnosis. Or truth serum. Or an extremely severe beating. Or all of the above.
Which meant, in other words, that it would probably be easier to go ask Bulma. She'd always been the talkative one.
The idea of teleporting into a jail did not appeal to Goku. Nevertheless, he made an effort. He tried to locate Bulmas energy signature. However Goku wasn't entirely sure where to begin looking. What part of West Capital City was the police station in? In a city this size, wouldn't there be more than one police station? Did all of the police stations have jails? Would Bulma be locked in a room by herself or would she have to share a room with other accused criminals? It was so difficult to isolate a regular persons energy signature. Especially in a densely populated area.
Finally, Goku gave up. He had a general sense of where Bulma might be but he couldn't pinpoint the exact location. He hadn't had enough practice at detecting regular people. He didn't really know that many regular people.
So much for that, then. Goku wasn't about to teleport when he had nothing more than a vague hunch to follow. Teleportation wasn't a forgiving technique. One little mistake and voosh - your molecular structure would be reduced to a pile of sludge. There were other modes of transport. But flying all over West Capital City and stopping to look inside any building that resembled a police station didn't strike Goku as a good plan. No. There were better options. But first...
"Is anything else missing?"
An edge of panic crept into Gokus mind. Most of the time, evil came in a form that he could deal with. He had dealt with demons and monsters and robots and humans and... Warriors. That had been it, more or less. The list was long but that was the common factor. Evil warriors. There had been Dr. Gero - a scientist - but that almost didn't count. Because Dr. Gero had turned himself into a warrior, a fighting machine, an android. Android 20. The defenders of Earth hadn't defeated Dr. Gero by taking a spelling test or anything, they'd fought him. And then there had been Babidi, the evil wizard. But he didn't really count either. The wizard had just stood around making threats while hiding behind his minions. And all of his minions had been warriors.
The gravity chamber was easy to spot. Easy to see that the crater was empty. But other things... Things kept inside the Capsule Corp mansion... Hopefully nothing else was missing. But if anything else was missing... Would a warrior bother to take anything else? Why? What if the creature that had done this wasn't a warrior? What if...?
Inwardly, Goku swore. And not just because the 'what ifs' were getting on his nerves but because his memory had kicked in. While Goku didn't have a mental inventory of everything that was kept at the Capsule Corp mansion, he was aware of certain items. The dragonball radar, for example. And the time machine, the one that Cell had brought to their world. The mere idea of either of these devices - nevermind the gravity chamber - being in the wrong hands...
"Vegeta!" Rigid body posture was not going to be a good enough answer. No. This was too important. Goku wanted a clear verbal confirmation. So he made a clear verbal threat. In the Saiyan language. Which was not terribly hard to do, considering that most of the Saiyan language was composed of threats.
Saiyan was not Gokus native language. He had grown up on Earth and so he'd learned Earth languages first. The only reason that Goku knew any of these alien threats was because he'd been on the receiving end of them rather frequently for a while. That had been back when Vegetas training exercises had required a sparring partner. Before construction on the gravity chamber had been finished.
Goku waited. He wasn't going to leave without an answer.
A hesitation. Maybe Vegeta had been surprised to hear the threat in Saiyan. Perhaps Goku had mangled a word and said something completely different than he'd intended to. Or maybe Vegeta just didn't believe that Goku would actually follow through on such a threat.
He could follow through. He had the power. Goku knew it. Vegeta knew it. And in the end, that's what counted.
"Fine." Vegeta grumbled, his voice and stance a notch more hostile. "I'll say it. I don't know. I haven't noticed that anything else is missing. But the woman moves things. Now leave."
Goku nearly believed this. There was an ounce of truth to it, that's what made it sound credible. Which wasn't comforting. But... There was something else as well. An instinct. A hunch. Goku couldn't quite put a name to it. And that disturbed him more.
Still. Vegeta had at least answered the question. And he clearly wanted Goku to leave. And Goku couldn't think of any reason to stay. Pestering Vegeta further wasn't going to improve either of their moods. And ChiChi probably expected Goku to return to the house for dinner. And poor Uub might still be hovering above the coast on the other side of the globe, wondering why his sensei had vanished. Eh. That kid was such a headache sometimes...
... kid ...
Half an instant before teleporting away, Goku froze. The thing that he hadn't been able to put a name to a moment ago - suddenly it was very clear. The mansion was too quiet. Empty. There was an absence of energy signatures. Yes, Dr. Briefs was dead. And Bulma had been arrested. And Trunks had moved out. But... Vegeta had another child. And it was late. School should have been done with a long time ago.
"Where is - " Goku had never actually met the other child. He'd been told about the kid and he'd seen a couple snapshots of Bulma holding the infant - a girl - but that had been ages ago. So the childs name escaped him. "Where is your daughter?"
Goku wasn't an expert in parenting but he knew, from experience, precisely what it felt like to have a child taken away. Vegeta could stand there with a scowl and refuse to speak but... There was no disguising the reaction that had rippled through the elder Saiyans energy signature.
Since Goku hadn't met this other child - Bura was the name, he realized, as he noticed a piece of signed artwork - Goku had no way of knowing what her energy signature was like. He wouldn't have recognized Buras ki if someone had clubbed him with it. But Vegeta should have been able to sense Buras energy signature. And surely, Vegeta would have smashed anyone that dared to even think about harming... Being a full-fledged and slightly overtrained Saiyan, very few things on Earth would have been able to prevent Vegeta from protecting...
How? Goku struggled to imagine the circumstances. What in the world could have happened? How could anybody take a child - nevermind a gravity chamber and heaven only knew what else - from a parent? What could have prevented a bulletproof, ki-blasting warrior from ripping the life out of... What? What could it have been? How could ANYTHING threaten Vegeta without powering up enough to set off the mental alarms of certain elite warriors all over Earth?
"Just leave." Vegeta sounded as if he were on the verge of making several threats in Saiyan.
Goku nodded. "Good idea." Dinner would have to wait. So would Uub. Right now, he needed some answers. And Goku knew where to go for answers. And even if Vegeta wasn't prepared to talk... Well. Better safe than sorry. "You're coming with me."
A statement. Not a question. Vegeta wasn't given a chance to disagree.
Miss Satan.
Videl did her best not to flinch. It was hard. Here was another reason that the fans of her father annoyed her. They always called her Miss Satan. She didn't mind the Miss. Not too much. It was okay if people thought she was younger than she felt. But... Well... Okay. So she DID mind the Miss. True - Gohan and Pan had their quirks, not all of which were likable. But Videl cherished her marriage and her family. She understood that the general public wasn't aware of her status. The wedding had been private so most people didn't realize that she was now Mrs. Videl Son. And that was fine. But it bothered Videl when people used her maiden name. It bothered Videl when people - especially men - assumed that she was single. Because when fans of her father thought that she was single... They almost always ended up trying to get a date with her.
One of these days, she was going to have to get a wedding ring.
Videl was fidgeting with her hands. Running her thumbs over her fingers. Wishing that she had some solid proof of her marriage to shove under this morons nose.
Money wasn't the issue. They could afford a ring. But Videl hadn't wanted a ring. Not at first. And that hadn't changed, not really. Videl had never been that fond of jewelry. Especially not the pricy stuff. Not with the work she did. A ring would be too easy to lose or damage. A ring didn't seem practical. Better to invest in a house, an education, groceries. And besides, there had never been time. She and Gohan were both so busy... Each with their own schedule. When had they ever gone to a jewelers? Never. Well. Not outside of stopping crime.
Speaking of crime... Augh. The person she was speaking to - he was an expert at changing the subject. Her attempts at getting information were going nowhere. When Videl had casually mentioned how sad it was the Dr. Briefs had died, the clerk had agreed. The mention of Dr. Briefs had lead to speculation about technology and then, somehow, to cheerful tales of classic video games. And then to Hercule, the Champion of Earth. In the clerks opinion, Mr. Satan ranked even higher than the classic video game heros. Videl wasn't sure if this remark was actually a compliment but since the clerk seemed kind of geeky - he struck her as being the type of person who spent too much time lost in fantasy worlds - she decided that he had probably meant it as a compliment.
This did not necessarily lessen Videls desire to strangle the young man.
Maybe it was time to start being more direct. No more dropping hints and hoping that people would say something useful. Except... Videl knew that she had to be careful. She didn't want to influence a potential witness. She didn't want to be telling people what they needed to say. That wouldn't help to uncover the truth.
What was the truth, in this situation? Dr. Briefs was beyond question at the moment. Bulma had, apparently, killed him in front of hospital security cameras. So nobody was going to doubt the cause of death on Dr. Briefs. But his wife, Bulmas mother... Mrs. Victoria Briefs. How had she died? And, perhaps even more importantly, WHEN had she died? That's why Videl had come to this place, this specialized morgue. Maybe the autopsy wasn't finished yet - maybe it hadn't even been started - but the approximate age of the corpse shouldn't be too difficult to determine. And if Mrs. Victoria Briefs had died within the last hour or so... Then Bulma almost certainly had to be innocent. Because Bulma had been arrested. Bulma was in jail. There would be witnesses.
If Mrs. Victoria Briefs had died earlier this morning... If she had died last night or yesterday... If the cause of death was not natural... Then it was extremely possible that, guilty or not, Bulma would be accused of murdering her mother as well. Because if there was proof against Bulma for one murder then adding another charge to the list would be relatively easy. And if Bulma ended up being accused of more than one murder... Then just how much more would the Great Saiyaman be accused of as well?
Maybe Bulma was being framed? Or maybe she was guilty, maybe she had planned this - had planned to make it look as if she was being framed. But...
Why?
Videl couldn't begin to answer the questions that flooded her mind. She didn't bother trying. She knew better. This mystery was going to have to be solved one step at a time. And the first step... The first question...
She blinked. Genuinely startled. Videl could detect energy signatures. So she had been aware of the fact that as she sat in this office, talking to the clerk, Goten was exploring the research rooms. She had felt his discomfort. Had caught a glimpse of the blur as it tore out of the building to throw up. And then... The anger. The calm. Two separate energy signatures, opposite in emotion. Both of them intense. And both of them familiar. Goten was the anger. And that meant...
Trunks?
As if on cue, he practically glided into the reception area. Trunks Briefs. Videl hadn't seen him for years. Well. Not in person, anyway. Trunks was a popular tabloid subject. Every other week or so, there would be a picture of him doing something completely normal - yawning or scowling or eating - accompanied by a zany headline. Beyond that... Trunks did appear in the mainstream media on occasion. He'd made the cover of a few science journals. Had appeared on talk shows. Had...
Had almost made Videl proud. Almost.
Granted, she hadn't known Trunks for very long. He'd been nine years old when they'd been introduced. And he'd been eleven years old when his parents had decided that he no longer required adult supervision. But during those two years... Videl had hoped, for a while, that maybe she had been a good role model. A good influence.
Nowadays, Videl had to doubt that she'd had any influence on Trunks at all. She hadn't been left in charge of Trunks often. Because she hadn't been able to handle Trunks and Goten both at once, not on her own. Not for long. Watching just Goten - that had been more frequent. Gohan would be out fighting crime or taking a test or something and ChiChi would need to get some errands done and... Videl hadn't minded. True, Videl'd had her own life. She hadn't always been available. But back then, she'd wanted to learn more about the Son family. Gohan especially. And she'd wanted the chance to practice her flying and fighting skills. Babysitting Goten had allowed her to do all of these things. So she'd made the time.
Hence Videl was one of the few people on Earth that had witnessed the change. Goten and Trunks had been best friends once. Energetic trouble makers. Practically inseparable. And then, one day ten years ago... Videl had been asked to watch them both. Together. She had accepted and much to Videls surprise... The boys had sat as far away from each other as possible. Goten radiating anger. Trunks radiating calm. Concerned, Videl had questioned their behavior. The boys had ignored her efforts to make peace between them. Had refused to speak or even look at each other.
And now, here they were. Ten years later. Standing in a small reception room. Goten was a little bit taller than Trunks these days. But it seemed that not much else had changed.
Videl supposed that it was only natural. Trunks and Goten lived in different parts of the world. They had grown up in different environments and gone to different schools. They had met other people, made other friends. Yet the split had been so abrupt. What could have happened?
"You need me to identify a body?" Trunks flashed some form of identification and spoke to the clerk. His voice held the same detached quality as his energy signature. Trunks hadn't acknowledged Goten, despite the fact that Goten was glaring daggers at him. And he hadn't paid any attention to Videl. It was as if the only other person in the building was the clerk.
Videl blinked again. How rude! And how could anyone in Trunks situation be so calm? His mother had been arrested! His grandparents were dead! Could Trunks be hiding something or...
Oh.
Damn. That's right. Of course Trunks could be hiding something. His emotions, specifically. He'd had a lifetime of practice at that. Videl had seen it for herself. Trunks had been taught to be calm, especially when dealing with the media and various fans. Still. There could be more to it. Videl felt that this was an angle worth investigating. How to begin...
The clerk made some polite excuses to Videl. Then he picked up a clipboard full of forms that would need to be signed and left the office to guide Trunks down the hallway. They had to be going to the room where the body of Mrs. Victoria Briefs was awaiting an autopsy.
Perfect. Videl started to follow them. She wanted to see the corpse. Videl didn't like corpses but she'd been doing police work for ages. While the sight of a dead body still made Videl feel sad and sometimes ill, it was a necessary part of her work. Maybe she would be able to figure out the cause of death. Maybe she would be able to estimate the time of death. That would help. And seeing how Trunks reacted to the sight of his grandmothers corpse, that would help as well.
Yes. It was the perfect plan. All Videl had to do was walk quietly and casually. If anyone asked questions, she could play innocent. And...
And then a sudden soft voice leapt into the corridor. Startling everyone in the vicinity. Singing in a dramatic near whisper. Trying to convince everyone that life was wonderful and that today was the perfect day to renew a certain brand of contract with the friendly local telephone dealer.
Videl spent a full minute mentally cursing her mobile phone. After a quick innocent oh-have-I-done-something-wrong? type smile aimed at the clerk, Videl retreated to the reception room. Grumbling.
"You haven't customized the ringtone yet?" Goten asked. He didn't seem as angry now that Trunks was out of sight down the hall.
Videl replied with an incoherent hiss. She removed the phone from her pocket and considered throwing it into a wall. But according to the caller ID, the call was coming from Satan City. So maybe this was important. Videl forced an ounce of patience into her tone as she answered.
"LEAVE!" Said the voice on the other end of the line.
"WHAT!" Videl sputtered. She nearly dropped the phone. But the voice had been familiar. "Dad! What in the world is WRONG with you? Why - ?"
Mr. Hercule Satan interrupted. "You're in West Capital City, aren't you? Don't deny it! Fujiko told me. Listen, Videl. You're a great detective. I'm proud of you. Happy for you. And you know I'm not just saying that. But this mess - please, Videl. Please just leave it to the full time professionals, okay? Please just come home. I don't want you to get hurt."
"Dad..." Videl knew that her father meant well and that he was sincere. She knew that her father had a right to be protective of his only child. But she was tired of life on the sidelines. "I'm not leaving."
"Videl!" Worry and alarm filled Mr. Satans voice. "It's too dangerous! The speech..." He sighed. "The speech I gave on tv, it didn't go so well. The ratings were good, I guess, but people panicked anyway. I couldn't convince them not to. And... I don't know. I have a bad feeling about this. Don't you, Videl?"
"It's entirely possible that Dr. Briefs just happened to die of natural causes while his daughter was visiting him." Videl heard herself say. She didn't know where the idea had come from but it sounded all right. Made the whole situation seem less complex, less dangerous. "And Mrs. Victoria Briefs... I don't know. But maybe the news of her husbands death was too much. The Great Saiyaman has been wrongly accused, Dad. If I can solve this mess then I'll be able to prove that."
"Great." Mr. Satan muttered, cynical. He had faith in Videls abilities. It was the rest of the world that he wasn't so sure about. Would the general public accept any evidence that Videl found? Would anyone be willing to forgive the Great Saiyaman? Or was the damage already done? Mr. Satan shook his head. Then his voice became expectant. "And what about Bulma Briefs?"
Videl blanched, caught off guard. Aware of the fact that Trunks was still in the building. Very aware of the fact that Goten was listening to the entire conversation. Videl dropped her voice to a whisper and spoke rapidly, moving towards the exit. "What do you MEAN what about Bulma Briefs?"
Hercule Satan sighed. "There was a news bulletin a little while ago. Bulma Briefs has escaped from jail. The police say that she's armed and dangerous. They've put out an award for information leading to her arrest." A pause. "Videl... Even if Bulma Briefs isn't armed and dangerous... The reward they're offering, it's not small - you understand? There are going to be a lot of people after that woman. And most of them WILL probably be armed and dangerous. So please, Videl, please. Think of your family. And just come home."
Videl could barely believe what she'd heard.
"If it will make you feel better," Mr. Satan offered "if it's really that important to you... Then I can try to contact Buu and see if he will..."
"No." Videl came out of her daze. "Buu is probably playing with Pan by now. And Pan would be upset if he left - she might even try to come with him. Leave them alone. They'll be safer that way. As for me..." Videl sighed and then let the words rush through her. She wasn't going to change her mind. "I'm strong. Please believe that I know what I'm doing. If makes you feel better... My little brother-in-law, you remember Goten, right? Well. He's already insisted on being my shadow for this investigation. And I've got Gohan, if I need him. And Goku. And ChiChi. And Ox King. And Fujiko. And you, Dad. So don't worry. I'll be okay. We'll figure this mess out. Somebody has to do it. Right?"
Another pause.
And eventually, a reply. "Right." Hercule Satan knew that he sounded more than double his age. It was hard, sometimes, to stop being a parent. To stand back and let go. "Right." He repeated dully. "I'm sorry, Videl. You're an adult. You don't need my permission. I just... Want you to come home safe when this is over. That's all. Please be careful. And don't to hesitate to call if you need anything. Okay?"
Videl agreed. The conversation was over soon after that. Videl returned her mobile phone to her pocket then stopped to check the road signs. Goten had followed her outside. He gave her a quizzical stare and waited to see what her response would be.
"Don't take this the wrong way - but we've got to split up." Videl was still whispering. "You're too easy to detect. I don't know what part Trunks might have in all this but I don't care for him to know where I'm going next."
"So where should I go?"
"Anywhere." Videl shrugged. "Maybe try to locate Bulma before any bounty hunters get to her. I don't know if she'll be willing to tell us the truth but she has to have some idea of what's going on."
Goten didn't leave. Videl began to get anxious. Was he going to argue? They didn't have time... Abruptly, Goten put out his hand. Videl stared at it. What did he want? A handshake?
"Your watch." Goten nodded at her wrist.
Videl couldn't hide her confusion. Understanding caught up quickly though. The Great Saiyaman was still wanted by the West Capital City police. And while none of the police knew who the Great Saiyaman was... Videl hadn't been able to conceal her identity. She'd worked with the police of Satan City for too long. They'd recognized her. So it was possible that police all over the world, they might know that she - Videl Satan - was the Second Saiyaman. If the West Capital City police figured out that she was married... If they found some excuse to arrest her...
Jeez. This was not good. With the Great Saiyaman accused of so many things, the reputation of the Second Saiyaman was also vulnerable. The police might come after her. The costume would make it easier. Videl hadn't planned on wearing her superhero gear. But now she realized that she couldn't even afford to be caught with the costume.
"Fine. Here." Videl put the watch into Gotens hand. She was annoyed by the whole situation. Annoyed that she hadn't realized certain things sooner. But proud, a little bit, because maybe she had been a good role model after all. For Goten. Inwardly, Videl smirked at the irony of it. Goten was the last person she'd ever expected to need a good role model.