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"Would you like some coffee?" Bulma's voice bounced off the walls of her kitchen cabinet, giving a cavernous echo.
"I hate the stuff." The mystery girl was perched atop one of the kitchen stools for the island counter. She reached into one of the pockets of her baggy black pants and pulled out a compact sized mirror. Peering into it, she examined the bags under her eyes.
"I'll have a nice, big cup. Black."
Trunks chuckled light-heartedly from his seat next to her. With only he and Bulma in the spacious kitchen, she had opened up- a bit. She still wouldn't give her name. "All in due time," she kept saying.
Bulma sat across from them as the coffee brewed. "I'm sorry, but Chi-Chi ran to the store to get food for our dinner. Saiyans tend to eat a lot so there's much food to buy. But she insists on going alone. I had to beg her to take Yamcha. He's still my friend but he would be so bored hanging around me, and Chi-Chi needs help with all those bags." 'I just convienetly forgot to mention that she would capsulize them anyway' Oh yeah, Bulma was downright evil at times.
Trunks absent-mindedly gathered a blond lock and twirled it about his fingers idly. She didn't seem to mind the sudden invasion of privacy, something you would expect from a shy person. Bulma stared at the sight, her mouth hanging open. Trunks' fingers weaved intricately through the blond tresses, starting at the tips, moving upwards. When he got to her scalp, he made messaging circular patterns. From where Bulma sat, she could tell it felt good, and the girl's soft murmurs turning into purrs confirmed it. Bulma began to speculate about Trunks' expert fingers. He was only 19, and to be that good takes practice. She felt she should say something, being Trunks' mother, and what was that Gohan said about getting too attached? But she couldn't bring herself to interrupt. The moment felt so intimate and brought ideas to her mind. Where was her Vegeta anyway?
"Beep! Beep!" came a harsh, shrill yell. The unwelcome sound startled Trunks and he tore his fingers from her head, hitting her bruise.
"That's the coffee." Bulma rose to get it. She served the piping hot mugs to Trunks and their visitor, then took one for herself.
The blond accepted her black coffee as she fingered the newly discovered bruise. "Ouch. That's why my head was hurting earlier. How'd I get it," she asked, tilting her head to the side, letting blond hair fall deliciously over her face; eyes wide and inquisitive. Oh how he longed to reach out and touch that blond hair again. It was mesmerizing. If he had seen this girl somewhere before, why hadn't he snatched her up?
"Don't you remember?"
She shook her head. "The last thing I remember was the crash."
"You were speaking saiya-go and we had a misunderstanding. Goku had to knock you out." Trunks was glad he didn't do it. He would have rather fight Vegeta, Gohan, and Goku simultaneously than admit to this exquisite creature that he had struck her.
Bra entered the kitchen- with a change of clothes, Bulma quietly noted. "Hey Trunks, Goten wants to see you."
"Where is he?"
"In your room." Trunks shot her a questioning look before leaving. Bra took her brother's spot at the counter, and turned towards the new girl. "Coffee? I hate the stuff."
"Really? Me too. But I need the caffeine boost."
"You do look like you could use a long nap," Bulma added.
"Well mom, we can hide the dark circles under her eyes with God's gift to women- make-up!" Bra had out a compact, two lipstick tubes, foundation, and eyeliner. The girl gave yet another horror stricken look. She one single leap- too fast for either woman to catch- and landed across the room on their circular breakfast table, sword drawn and poised.
"Don't touch me with that stuff! It itches and I hate having to wash it off!"
Bra nudged her mother. "She's worse than Pan."
"Honey its okay, I-we promise. We won't put any of this make-up on you." The sword faltered.
"You promise?" Bulma edged closer to the table, Bra close behind.
"Yes dear."
Bra frowned. "There's no one to fix up around here. They're either male, already pretty, like you mommy," Bulma smiled broadly, "or afraid of any product resembling their femininity!"
"Bra, honey, calm down."
"It' s just not fair mommy," Bra whined, putting her face in her hands. Their visitor jumped down from the table.
"I'm sorry Bra. I-I didn't know how important it was to you." Bra grinned behind her hands; she had her right where she wanted her. A true descendant of Vegeta-sei.
"That's okay- because I have the perfect short sundress and matching four inch heels!"
The sound of crashing plates, breaking cabinet doors, up turning of furniture, and shouts of, "Ah! I was just kidding!" and "Bra, put the lip gloss down, you're going to get us killed!" could be heard in the living room- the one on the 3rd floor with a balcony. That is exactly where Gohan was discussing the current situation with Krillin, Eighteen, Piccolo, and his father.
"What's that noise?" the always curious Gohan wanted to know.
Krillin reclined on one of the many soft chairs in the living room. Marron grabbed a big floor pillow, and clicked on the TV at the opposite end of the room. Eighteen walked out to the balcony. "Probably one of Bulma's experiments. That's how she usually passes the time."
Piccolo joined them, coming from his secluded corner of the room. "What about time? This girl is keeping us waiting and I for one am tired of it." Goku placed a strong hand his shoulder- at which the tall green namek rolled his eyes.
"Patience Piccolo."
"Patience my foot! She's being too damn mysterious for me. She comes unannounced-out of nowhere. We should be getting answers, not having her place orders like she's at restaurant."
"Piccolo has a point there," Krillin added. "There's so many questions-"
"Which she already said she would answer." Gohan paced about the room to think. "And its Bulma's house. If she wanted to serve her tea on the roof and not get any answers for a week- she could."
"That's true also," the amiable Krillin stated. He heard the TV click off, and saw his daughter leave the room.
"She came here to us wearing Mirai Trunks' clothes and possessing his sword. When he came it was to warn us, help us change the future."
Piccolo cut in. "So don't you think Gohan, she should tell us right away?" Gohan's scientific mind was working in overdrive.
"But I don't think that's what she came for. I think she needs our help. If she came from the future, it is a bleak and broken world- who knows what happened."
"If she needs help, why isn't she asking for it?"
"That's a good question dad."
Krillin leaned on his elbow. "Women can be strange. Perhaps she doesn't know how to ask."
Goku scratched his head. "You mean like she's ashamed?"
"Maybe. It might have something to do with Trunks. I don't know."
Eighteen strolled back inside. Apparently, she had heard the whole conversation. "Maybe it's because she's from the future, and there's a good reason we shouldn't know yet." She had that cold, sharp voice that made you feel foolish for having her explain the situation to you. "Trunks came from a bleak, dismal future, risking his life twice in a time machine to make our lives better, and we waited for him. If she has her reasons, let her have her reasons." Her voice got softer, the voice she used when she told her daughter and husband that she loved them. "She deserves a chance because he gave us a second one so long ago." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "And if you don't agree with me, think of the children you would never have. I do everyday." She let her words sink in for a bit. "That noise you heard was from the kitchen Gohan." Her voice was back to its normal, steel yet cynical tone. "I'm going to see what Bulma and our girl of the hour are up to now." With that, Eighteen left the now quiet room. *****************************************************************
Trunks approached his room and knocked. "Come in," Goten's voice was loud even with the door closed. "You don't have to knock to enter your own room silly." Trunks opened the door, and there was Goten perched on his bed.
"Bra said you wanted to see me."
"Yeah. This whole thing is so crazy."
"It is crazy."
"I mean, this chic comes crashing down to earth like a-"
"Like a fallen angel."
"There's the component that makes this situation even crazier still. You're acting like she's been here all you're life, not just some odd 4 hours ago."
"I am Goten, and it's driving me crazy. Everyone thinks I'm crazy. But I know I've seen her somewhere before. And the most infuriating thing is her hair."
"Her hair?"
"Color me crazy, insane, whatever you want, but her hair is enchanted or something. It hypnotizes me. I look at it, and I just want to grab it."
"You were messing with it a lot. Very noticeable. It is cool though. And you've always had a thing for blondes. Does Marron ring a bell?"
"But it was a different attraction there. I can't explain it, but their hair is so different."
"Oh yeah I see what you mean. One's hair is blonde. The other's is hmmm. what do you know? It' s blonde too!" Trunks had never heard Goten use so much sarcasm in one breath.
"That's not funny."
"I'm sorry man- really. The hair is cool- especially with her skin. But I've never seen a girl look so good in another guys clothing." Trunks nodded in agreement. "And the belly ring is a plus- I'm trying to get Bra to get one."
"My parents would give you a slow and painful death."
"I know. But it would be worth it to play with that belly ring."
"I'm serious Goten! My dad is looking for any good reason and opportunity to kick your ass. Don't give him one."
"Just kick my ass," Goten speculated. "You mean as in not kill me? I knew Vegeta liked me."
"Be serious Goten." Goten laid down on Trunks' bed covered with dark blue sheets- almost the color of his fallen angel's eyes, he noted.
"Trunks, I'm serious as well. I know she's two years younger than I am but I can't help it. She's the only one, excluding Pan that I can talk to without getting nervous. Plus she's funny, smart, charming, beautiful.the list goes on and on." They did make a cute couple, Trunks admitted.
"She's serious about you too, Goten. Just don't do anything stupid. Because if I ever have to choose between you and Bra, I'm killing you both."
"I'll definitely keep that in mind." Trunks spun in the swivel chair he was occupying. Funny, he never used it for his desk to do his schoolwork. That was because it was usually covered with clothes or things he didn't feel like putting away. But now in his first year of college, he had a dorm room, and came home for the whole summer. He had to. He had missed everyone, even his taciturn father.
"By the way, you two weren't doing anything on my bed were you?"
"No. Nothing like that."
"I just thought it weird that you two would be in my room instead of hers. And I don't want to have to burn my bed or anything," Goten rolled over on his stomach.
"Ha ha. We were in her room. But asking for you here sounds less suspicious." Goten grinned wolfishly.
"And everyone thinks you're the nice innocent one," Trunks laughed.
"Well you're certainly not either," Goten chided. "Now tell me about the way she sounded when she purred.
******************************************************************
"Onore!" Getting punched in the jaw three times successively by Vegeta would make a normal human person unable to talk, let alone move. However, it just made Pan very irritable.
"Now, now brat. What if your father heard such language from his baby girl?" Vegeta was suspended in mid-air, tauntingly wagging a finger. Pan pushed herself off the ground slowly. 200 times gravity seemed heavier today.
"My father isn't here, Vegetable-head." Pan smirked, knowing that the hated nickname would make him lose his cool façade. It worked.
"Nande kuso!" Vegeta charged up quickly, sending a small ki-blast to Pan's head. It was calmly deflected. Now Vegeta sent a much larger blast, one bigger than Pan herself.
"Kuso! Vegeta!" She dodged, narrowly missing the blast, only to be kneed in the stomach. Pan automatically kicked him in the crotch, buying time to catch her breath. The gravity was really getting to her, and that was unusual. They normally would train in 300g's; today they were taking it light. But light with Vegeta was two tons. Pan was snapped out of her thoughts by a landing kick to the head, from guess who?
"Never let your guard down brat." That was one of her first lessons, and she had learned very quickly. It was amazing how spitting out teeth helps you to remember. Gohan had almost banned her from training ever again after seeing how dilapidated and scruffy she was that first day. It took five cartons of rocky road ice cream to calm him down and Goku's astute observation that Pan was still smiling.
Pan sprang up quickly this time, immediately dealing out a roundhouse kick that Vegeta blocked. He had dodged exactly where she had expected, and she was ready with a fairly large ki-blast to the chest. The well-built impassive saiyan bounced off the floors of his pristine white gravity shrine. But Pan knew there was still much fight left inside the warrior. "Ahh!" Letting out a primal yell, the teenage girl transformed to SSJ1, her black hair now blonde and spiky; her black pupils now turquoise. "Alright Vegeta. Now its time for me to teach you a lesson."
******************************************************************
Well, how was that? I thought that it was a bit longer, and one of my favorite non sequitor pieces. More sillyness and fluff to come! And if you're really good with reviews, I'll start writing- errr- posting a plot. Ja ne!
"Would you like some coffee?" Bulma's voice bounced off the walls of her kitchen cabinet, giving a cavernous echo.
"I hate the stuff." The mystery girl was perched atop one of the kitchen stools for the island counter. She reached into one of the pockets of her baggy black pants and pulled out a compact sized mirror. Peering into it, she examined the bags under her eyes.
"I'll have a nice, big cup. Black."
Trunks chuckled light-heartedly from his seat next to her. With only he and Bulma in the spacious kitchen, she had opened up- a bit. She still wouldn't give her name. "All in due time," she kept saying.
Bulma sat across from them as the coffee brewed. "I'm sorry, but Chi-Chi ran to the store to get food for our dinner. Saiyans tend to eat a lot so there's much food to buy. But she insists on going alone. I had to beg her to take Yamcha. He's still my friend but he would be so bored hanging around me, and Chi-Chi needs help with all those bags." 'I just convienetly forgot to mention that she would capsulize them anyway' Oh yeah, Bulma was downright evil at times.
Trunks absent-mindedly gathered a blond lock and twirled it about his fingers idly. She didn't seem to mind the sudden invasion of privacy, something you would expect from a shy person. Bulma stared at the sight, her mouth hanging open. Trunks' fingers weaved intricately through the blond tresses, starting at the tips, moving upwards. When he got to her scalp, he made messaging circular patterns. From where Bulma sat, she could tell it felt good, and the girl's soft murmurs turning into purrs confirmed it. Bulma began to speculate about Trunks' expert fingers. He was only 19, and to be that good takes practice. She felt she should say something, being Trunks' mother, and what was that Gohan said about getting too attached? But she couldn't bring herself to interrupt. The moment felt so intimate and brought ideas to her mind. Where was her Vegeta anyway?
"Beep! Beep!" came a harsh, shrill yell. The unwelcome sound startled Trunks and he tore his fingers from her head, hitting her bruise.
"That's the coffee." Bulma rose to get it. She served the piping hot mugs to Trunks and their visitor, then took one for herself.
The blond accepted her black coffee as she fingered the newly discovered bruise. "Ouch. That's why my head was hurting earlier. How'd I get it," she asked, tilting her head to the side, letting blond hair fall deliciously over her face; eyes wide and inquisitive. Oh how he longed to reach out and touch that blond hair again. It was mesmerizing. If he had seen this girl somewhere before, why hadn't he snatched her up?
"Don't you remember?"
She shook her head. "The last thing I remember was the crash."
"You were speaking saiya-go and we had a misunderstanding. Goku had to knock you out." Trunks was glad he didn't do it. He would have rather fight Vegeta, Gohan, and Goku simultaneously than admit to this exquisite creature that he had struck her.
Bra entered the kitchen- with a change of clothes, Bulma quietly noted. "Hey Trunks, Goten wants to see you."
"Where is he?"
"In your room." Trunks shot her a questioning look before leaving. Bra took her brother's spot at the counter, and turned towards the new girl. "Coffee? I hate the stuff."
"Really? Me too. But I need the caffeine boost."
"You do look like you could use a long nap," Bulma added.
"Well mom, we can hide the dark circles under her eyes with God's gift to women- make-up!" Bra had out a compact, two lipstick tubes, foundation, and eyeliner. The girl gave yet another horror stricken look. She one single leap- too fast for either woman to catch- and landed across the room on their circular breakfast table, sword drawn and poised.
"Don't touch me with that stuff! It itches and I hate having to wash it off!"
Bra nudged her mother. "She's worse than Pan."
"Honey its okay, I-we promise. We won't put any of this make-up on you." The sword faltered.
"You promise?" Bulma edged closer to the table, Bra close behind.
"Yes dear."
Bra frowned. "There's no one to fix up around here. They're either male, already pretty, like you mommy," Bulma smiled broadly, "or afraid of any product resembling their femininity!"
"Bra, honey, calm down."
"It' s just not fair mommy," Bra whined, putting her face in her hands. Their visitor jumped down from the table.
"I'm sorry Bra. I-I didn't know how important it was to you." Bra grinned behind her hands; she had her right where she wanted her. A true descendant of Vegeta-sei.
"That's okay- because I have the perfect short sundress and matching four inch heels!"
The sound of crashing plates, breaking cabinet doors, up turning of furniture, and shouts of, "Ah! I was just kidding!" and "Bra, put the lip gloss down, you're going to get us killed!" could be heard in the living room- the one on the 3rd floor with a balcony. That is exactly where Gohan was discussing the current situation with Krillin, Eighteen, Piccolo, and his father.
"What's that noise?" the always curious Gohan wanted to know.
Krillin reclined on one of the many soft chairs in the living room. Marron grabbed a big floor pillow, and clicked on the TV at the opposite end of the room. Eighteen walked out to the balcony. "Probably one of Bulma's experiments. That's how she usually passes the time."
Piccolo joined them, coming from his secluded corner of the room. "What about time? This girl is keeping us waiting and I for one am tired of it." Goku placed a strong hand his shoulder- at which the tall green namek rolled his eyes.
"Patience Piccolo."
"Patience my foot! She's being too damn mysterious for me. She comes unannounced-out of nowhere. We should be getting answers, not having her place orders like she's at restaurant."
"Piccolo has a point there," Krillin added. "There's so many questions-"
"Which she already said she would answer." Gohan paced about the room to think. "And its Bulma's house. If she wanted to serve her tea on the roof and not get any answers for a week- she could."
"That's true also," the amiable Krillin stated. He heard the TV click off, and saw his daughter leave the room.
"She came here to us wearing Mirai Trunks' clothes and possessing his sword. When he came it was to warn us, help us change the future."
Piccolo cut in. "So don't you think Gohan, she should tell us right away?" Gohan's scientific mind was working in overdrive.
"But I don't think that's what she came for. I think she needs our help. If she came from the future, it is a bleak and broken world- who knows what happened."
"If she needs help, why isn't she asking for it?"
"That's a good question dad."
Krillin leaned on his elbow. "Women can be strange. Perhaps she doesn't know how to ask."
Goku scratched his head. "You mean like she's ashamed?"
"Maybe. It might have something to do with Trunks. I don't know."
Eighteen strolled back inside. Apparently, she had heard the whole conversation. "Maybe it's because she's from the future, and there's a good reason we shouldn't know yet." She had that cold, sharp voice that made you feel foolish for having her explain the situation to you. "Trunks came from a bleak, dismal future, risking his life twice in a time machine to make our lives better, and we waited for him. If she has her reasons, let her have her reasons." Her voice got softer, the voice she used when she told her daughter and husband that she loved them. "She deserves a chance because he gave us a second one so long ago." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "And if you don't agree with me, think of the children you would never have. I do everyday." She let her words sink in for a bit. "That noise you heard was from the kitchen Gohan." Her voice was back to its normal, steel yet cynical tone. "I'm going to see what Bulma and our girl of the hour are up to now." With that, Eighteen left the now quiet room. *****************************************************************
Trunks approached his room and knocked. "Come in," Goten's voice was loud even with the door closed. "You don't have to knock to enter your own room silly." Trunks opened the door, and there was Goten perched on his bed.
"Bra said you wanted to see me."
"Yeah. This whole thing is so crazy."
"It is crazy."
"I mean, this chic comes crashing down to earth like a-"
"Like a fallen angel."
"There's the component that makes this situation even crazier still. You're acting like she's been here all you're life, not just some odd 4 hours ago."
"I am Goten, and it's driving me crazy. Everyone thinks I'm crazy. But I know I've seen her somewhere before. And the most infuriating thing is her hair."
"Her hair?"
"Color me crazy, insane, whatever you want, but her hair is enchanted or something. It hypnotizes me. I look at it, and I just want to grab it."
"You were messing with it a lot. Very noticeable. It is cool though. And you've always had a thing for blondes. Does Marron ring a bell?"
"But it was a different attraction there. I can't explain it, but their hair is so different."
"Oh yeah I see what you mean. One's hair is blonde. The other's is hmmm. what do you know? It' s blonde too!" Trunks had never heard Goten use so much sarcasm in one breath.
"That's not funny."
"I'm sorry man- really. The hair is cool- especially with her skin. But I've never seen a girl look so good in another guys clothing." Trunks nodded in agreement. "And the belly ring is a plus- I'm trying to get Bra to get one."
"My parents would give you a slow and painful death."
"I know. But it would be worth it to play with that belly ring."
"I'm serious Goten! My dad is looking for any good reason and opportunity to kick your ass. Don't give him one."
"Just kick my ass," Goten speculated. "You mean as in not kill me? I knew Vegeta liked me."
"Be serious Goten." Goten laid down on Trunks' bed covered with dark blue sheets- almost the color of his fallen angel's eyes, he noted.
"Trunks, I'm serious as well. I know she's two years younger than I am but I can't help it. She's the only one, excluding Pan that I can talk to without getting nervous. Plus she's funny, smart, charming, beautiful.the list goes on and on." They did make a cute couple, Trunks admitted.
"She's serious about you too, Goten. Just don't do anything stupid. Because if I ever have to choose between you and Bra, I'm killing you both."
"I'll definitely keep that in mind." Trunks spun in the swivel chair he was occupying. Funny, he never used it for his desk to do his schoolwork. That was because it was usually covered with clothes or things he didn't feel like putting away. But now in his first year of college, he had a dorm room, and came home for the whole summer. He had to. He had missed everyone, even his taciturn father.
"By the way, you two weren't doing anything on my bed were you?"
"No. Nothing like that."
"I just thought it weird that you two would be in my room instead of hers. And I don't want to have to burn my bed or anything," Goten rolled over on his stomach.
"Ha ha. We were in her room. But asking for you here sounds less suspicious." Goten grinned wolfishly.
"And everyone thinks you're the nice innocent one," Trunks laughed.
"Well you're certainly not either," Goten chided. "Now tell me about the way she sounded when she purred.
******************************************************************
"Onore!" Getting punched in the jaw three times successively by Vegeta would make a normal human person unable to talk, let alone move. However, it just made Pan very irritable.
"Now, now brat. What if your father heard such language from his baby girl?" Vegeta was suspended in mid-air, tauntingly wagging a finger. Pan pushed herself off the ground slowly. 200 times gravity seemed heavier today.
"My father isn't here, Vegetable-head." Pan smirked, knowing that the hated nickname would make him lose his cool façade. It worked.
"Nande kuso!" Vegeta charged up quickly, sending a small ki-blast to Pan's head. It was calmly deflected. Now Vegeta sent a much larger blast, one bigger than Pan herself.
"Kuso! Vegeta!" She dodged, narrowly missing the blast, only to be kneed in the stomach. Pan automatically kicked him in the crotch, buying time to catch her breath. The gravity was really getting to her, and that was unusual. They normally would train in 300g's; today they were taking it light. But light with Vegeta was two tons. Pan was snapped out of her thoughts by a landing kick to the head, from guess who?
"Never let your guard down brat." That was one of her first lessons, and she had learned very quickly. It was amazing how spitting out teeth helps you to remember. Gohan had almost banned her from training ever again after seeing how dilapidated and scruffy she was that first day. It took five cartons of rocky road ice cream to calm him down and Goku's astute observation that Pan was still smiling.
Pan sprang up quickly this time, immediately dealing out a roundhouse kick that Vegeta blocked. He had dodged exactly where she had expected, and she was ready with a fairly large ki-blast to the chest. The well-built impassive saiyan bounced off the floors of his pristine white gravity shrine. But Pan knew there was still much fight left inside the warrior. "Ahh!" Letting out a primal yell, the teenage girl transformed to SSJ1, her black hair now blonde and spiky; her black pupils now turquoise. "Alright Vegeta. Now its time for me to teach you a lesson."
******************************************************************
Well, how was that? I thought that it was a bit longer, and one of my favorite non sequitor pieces. More sillyness and fluff to come! And if you're really good with reviews, I'll start writing- errr- posting a plot. Ja ne!