Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.

Author's Notes: Well, I promised this out as soon as I could. I had it mostly written.  If there are any plot discrepancies, its because I'm a bad writer who doesn't edit her work.

Chapter 41: Searching

Vegeta was completely exhausted, and had to force himself to pull on his black pants and red sleeveless shirt.  He'd developed a liking for that style of outfit.  It used to be that he couldn't stand to wear civvies.  He was ex-military and always would be.  As such, it had taken him decades to get used to not wearing a uniform. 

However, he thought with a smirk, the outfit was attractive.  It definitely made him look younger.  Not that he looked old at all.  All the humans around him aged at such accelerated rates it was almost scary.

Pulling on his black gloves, Vegeta walked outside the spaceship that had served as his gravity room for years.  It was the end of autumn and bitter cold, so he reached just inside the door for his jacket.  Even though he didn't particularly like the cold, Vegeta appreciated the fact that the day wouldn't turn out so disgustingly cheerful.  Most of the animals stayed in whatever hole they dug or flew to another part of the world.  Why don't those idiot birds just stay there? Vegeta couldn't help but ask.

Suddenly he stiffened, sensing the tension in the air.  He could feel someone's eyes on him, and there was a definite sense of being stalked.  Vegeta forced himself to relax, not wanting to alert his stalker that he knew someone was watching.  He reached out with his senses.  Five someones were surrounding him, all of varying degrees of slightly above-average power.

Vegeta dodged and felt a rush of movement go past him.  He dodged a few more swishes of air and got in a kick.  He tried to pull back to see who was attacking, but they were all staying close and keeping out of sight with movement at the same time.  Finally he caught a fist and held it.

"Pan?" Vegeta said incredulously.  "What is this?"

All she had time to do was smirk before twisting out of his grip.  Vegeta found himself pushed to the ground from behind by three good-sized ki blasts.  He smirked himself when he realized who the five were.  Despite his exhaustion from training, Vegeta was able to ascend to Super Saiyan and call forth enough power.  In less than five seconds, he'd knocked all five of the advanced Spider students to the ground.

They all groaned when they got up, but they were still grinning.  They'd managed to fare that long with Vegeta.  Their training was paying off.

"Thought you could sneak up on me," Vegeta laughed.  "Well, I guess you did as well as could be expected… from humans."

Krianan rubbed her elbow where she'd hit the ground the hardest.  "We were able to keep you confused for a bit at least."

Vegeta snorted.  "If I hadn't been training for two days straight without rest then you wouldn't have.  Don't get cocky yet."

He noticed the five's slightly downcast faces.  Cursing himself for getting soft, he amended, "However, you did work well as a team, and you set up a good strategy for the situation.  If you hadn't pulled back a little you might have had a better chance of taking me."

This restored their good humor.

Pecon stepped forward.  "Actually, Vegeta-san, we didn't come here to attack you… or just to attack you.  We came to ask if the dragonballs had been collected."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow.  "Not that I know of.  The woman was planning on going, but she's been stuck in her lab for weeks.  Why?"

Darjili shifted her feet a little.  She was in blue-haired mode.  "Well, we… we wanted to do it."

Vegeta crossed his arms, slightly amused.  "You wish to take time out of your training to gather the dragonballs?"

Pan grinned.  "Well, I mean, Grandpa got a lot of his training from gathering the dragonballs, so it could be good for our training."  With anyone else, citing Goku's example would have been the trump card.  Of course, she should have realized that this was Vegeta.

Vegeta rolled his eyes.  "Waste your time on collecting the relics if you want.  But none of the dragonballs are gathered at all.  Just who's going to watch the Spider dojo while you're gone?"

This seemed to agitate the lot of them.  "Spider dojo's already closed up," Danton spoke up.

Darjili crossed her arms, having changed to her blonde form without anyone noticing.  "Seems that the government doesn't recognize us as the owners of the Spider dojo.  We can keep living in the house and training in the dojo, but we can't teach any students."

So that was it, Vegeta realized.  They were restless.  Well, he didn't blame them any.  Of course, if the government had tried to meddle with him, then he'd just tell them to shove off and maybe help them carry out his request.  But, of course, he was a special case.

Noting their discomfiture, he changed the subject.  "The crazy woman should have the dragon radar."  In the background they heard a crash followed by some screaming curses.  "Just follow that unearthly sound," he ended with a smirk.

The five nodded nervously and scuttled into the complex, leaving the Saiyan behind.  It didn't take them long at all to find Bulma's lab.  Krianan knocked tentatively.  They may have felt free to attack Vegeta, but Bulma was the real scary one, and they had to step lightly with her.

The cursing broke off into a low grumble.  "Come in," the lady genius barked.

Holding their collective breath, they opened the door.

*****

The five flew from the frigid climes into warmer weather.  They had spent a little time racing each other, but that had ended as they got closer to their target.

Pan tapped the button on the radar.  She'd insisted on controlling it, feeling she had some sort of birthright to it.  She turned a little to the west, and everyone adjusted accordingly.

"This was such a great idea," Krianan yelled over the wind, which was pretty fierce this close to the coast.

"I don't know," Pecon said thoughtfully.  "Maybe we should have split up and gotten it done sooner."

"We only have one radar, baka," Darjili retorted.  "It wouldn't have worked."

"Besides, don't you remember what Vegeta-san said?" Danton joined in, hoping to avert yet another argument between Pecon and Darjili.  "We work well as a team."

"He was probably just commenting on how pathetic humans need to work together to get anything done.  It wasn't a compliment," Darjili laughed.  The laugh caught on to the others.

"These dragonballs won't take all that long to find anyway," Pan shouted back.  "I heard it took Grandpa and Bulma-san less than a month to find all the dragonballs on the first hunt, and we're much stronger than Grandpa was."

"Bulma-san and Satan-san searched for the dragonballs together?" Krianan asked in an airhead moment.

"Of course not!" Pan yelled back, clearly disturbed at the idea.  "I do have more than one grandpa.  This was Grandpa Goku, not Grandpa Satan."

"Where's he been, anyway?" Pecon asked absently.  "I haven't seen Goku-san in a really long time.  In fact, since…"

"Yeah," Pan answered grimly.  "Since the tournament."  Only those words were needed.  The words "the tournament" had become synonymous with the death of their teachers and the general falling apart of their worlds.  It was too painful to actually mention the deaths.  So they just said "the tournament."

"I think we're here!" Pan shouted, swiftly bringing everyone's minds back to the present.  This was why they were gathering the dragonballs anyway.  So that they could wish Goten back to life.

The five stopped above a rather large rocky beach that was surrounded by rocks and cliffs.  A few turtles were idly crawling amongst the rocks.

"Hey, Pan," Pecon said quietly.  "What does the dragonball look like again?"

"Well," she said lamely, "it's orange, about the size of a baseball, and it has some stars inside.

The five looked down in horror at the beach filled with orange, baseball-sized rocks.

"Well," Danton swallowed.  "I guess we better get started."

*****

Darjili stretched her aching back to the limit before delving into the backpack for some noodles and spices to go with the fish that was now roasting over the fire.  The boys had caught the fish just the way Goten had taught them before: strip down and dive for it yourself.  Darjili had laughed at the strangeness of this style of fishing, but it was certainly quicker and made more sense than using poles.  And it was definitely pure Goten.

It was sunset, and the orange rock beach glowed eerily in the orange sunset and the orange fire.  Orange.  Darjili set her jaw and tried to concentrate on what she was doing.  Everything reminded her of either Jita or Goten.  Sometimes she wondered if she was going crazy, but then Pecon or someone else would show how hard it was.  It wasn't just Darjili.

Pan walked up to her, happily tossing the two-star dragonball in her hand.  "And to think," she started in, not even bothering to begin a conversation, "I was the one who found it.  I'll probably be the one who finds them all."

Darjili arched an eyebrow wryly.  "Really.  And wasn't it Danton that pointed out that you were holding the dragon radar the wrong way right from the beginning?"

Pan glared.  "Yeah, well, I found it, didn't I?"

The two stared at each other, and then Pan dropped all pretexts.  "Can't we just try to wish Jita-sensei back to life?"

Darjili sighed, willing her face to stone.  "You know what they said.  Fate of the universe and all.  Remember?"

"Screw the universe," Danton walked into the conversation.  Then he smiled.  "Isn't that just fun to say?  Screw the universe."  Then he looked over at Pecon.  "Oh, yeah.  Sorry, man.  Didn't mean to offend your 'universe in balance' 'greater good' monk philosophy."

The ex-monk shook his head and smiled.  "If it could get Jita back, I'd say go for it."

Krianan laughed sharply.  "We've corrupted you, Pecon!"

The five laughed nervously for the rest of the time that they got supper together.  They fell into silence while eating.  Suddenly nothing really seemed funny anymore.

Darjili closed her eyes, not ready to go to sleep and yet not really willing to talk with anyone.  She had too much on her mind to go to sleep.

This was strange though.  Darjili was not much of a thinker.  She'd never gotten used to focusing on one thing for very long since, odds were, she'd just change forms and personalities before she could actually form an opinion on anything.  Her parents hadn't known what to do about her, since Lunch had had the same problem all her life without ever overcoming it.  It wasn't until she came under the tutelage of Jita that she'd actually found the secret to stabilizing herself.

Darjili laughed to herself.  All that time she and her parents had thought that the only way to help her was to suppress the "bad" side of her and only let the calm, tractable side exist.  That was the side that was easier to deal with, after all.  This, of course, only made the condition worse.  People weren't built to be all nice or all mean.  If there was anything that Jita had known about, it was ambiguity.  Jita had taught her to nurture both sides of her personality.  Really, Darjili hadn't been any nicer or meaner than anyone else.  Her two sides had just been separated by some disorder that had baffled any psychiatrist she'd gone to.  Jita had figured that the disorder probably had something magical about it.

Of course, it didn't really matter to Darjili.  She'd overcome it.  Sure, she was still changing bodies, but her personality tended to slightly shift, though not so much as to completely forget everything.  It was more like mood swings than anything else.  Jita had helped her become whole again.

Darjili squeezed her eyes tighter.  She had to stop thinking about Jita.  Jita was gone, and would never be coming back, and that's what made it so extremely painful.  Another mother gone.

Darjili had spent practically her whole life in the desert with her parents and Chaotzu, who was clearly of no relation but held for her the affectionate term of Uncle.  Life had always seemed rather unstable.  While the environment never changed, Lunch was a constant factor.  Darjili remembered having to check the locks on the gun cabinets and once cajoling her mother out of a supply store during changes.  She remembered working to make sure that the house was dust and allergen-free.  And that was only when she was seven or eight.  Tien or Chaotzu would always try to be there when Lunch turned violent, but it was literally a full-time job.  Sometimes one or both of them would have to be away.  But Darjili had never been scared.  It was a way of life for her.  She knew no different.

Around puberty, Darjili's personalities had started separating.  It was subtle at first, but quickly got more dramatic.  First the sneeze.  Then the hair and eyes.  Tien and Lunch – both Lunches – had been horrified to watch their baby girl showing signs of the same illness that plagued Lunch.  Tien began a renewed effort in a long-abandoned quest to find the cure for the personality disorder.  Darjili only had flashes of memory of that time.  Mostly it was doctor after doctor, but she also remembered a huge green dragon in a black sky and a short green guy with antennae.  Back then she hadn't really understood any of it, and had feared that her illness had gone to hallucinations.  But now she knew exactly what Tien had been doing.  The dragonballs… Dende… all logical steps.  But they hadn't worked.  The brain was too complicated for a magical cure.

Darjili really hadn't known about anything about dragonballs or any of the stronger warriors.  Not that Tien and Chaotzu were hiding it.  It just never came up.  None of the other warriors had ever been actual friends with Tien.  They fought together – a lot – from what Darjili had heard since, but private times when there wasn't a fight going on was a whole other matter.  Probably none of those friends even knew of her existence until she joined the Spider dojo.

At the Spider dojo she'd found some sort of stability, but she'd also gotten into a weirder than ever life.  She'd heard the truth about who killed Cell and that a creature named Buu had destroyed the world and a bunch of live wires who could destroy the world with a sneeze were living happily about the globe.

Actually, it made the world make sense.

"Hey, Darjili."

Darjili rolled over.  "What is it, Pecon?" she responded sleepily.  Maybe she was more tired than she realized.

"You can't sleep either?" he asked.

Darjili rolled her eyes.  "Nope.  I'm talking in my sleep.  Please tell me in the morning if I say anything embarrassing."

Pecon grinned.  "How could I tell that apart from how you always speak?"

Darjili shot a glare at him, and promised herself that she'd beat him into the ground the next time they sparred.

Pecon quickly changed the subject.  "What do you think the other students are doing?"

Darjili shook her head.  "I don't know.  Probably more frustrated than we are.  At least we're doing something."

Pecon snorted.  "Yeah.  Something that anyone with a dragon radar and a lot of time on their hands could do.  Oh, yeah, and something one of the Saiyans could do in a day.  It's not like we're doing anything special."

Darjili closed her eyes, agreeing and yet not wanting to agree.  "We're collecting the things that will bring Goten-sensei back to life."

"So he can get here in a year and make everything better," Pecon retorted.  "And if he doesn't, then one of the other Saiyans will do it."

Darjili sat up.  "What are you getting at, Pecon?"

Pecon sighed, putting his head in his hands.  Despite the serious nature of the moment, Darjili couldn't help but notice how the orange flames reflected off Pecon's bald shiny head.

"I've trained my whole life," Pecon finally stated.  "I was the strongest at Orinji temple, and I'm one of the strongest of our class.  I've learned so much.  I've tried to hard.  And I actually thought I was getting somewhere."

Darjili put a hand on Pecon's shoulder.  "You are."

"Then why do I feel so useless?" Pecon interrupted.  "You feel it too.  I mean, we're humans.  We don't get stronger after near-death experiences.  We've never even had a near-death experience.  But we'll never be able to keep up with the Saiyans.  None of the other humans have.  I talked to Krillen a few days ago.  I pretty much gathered from him that, as humans, we'll always be weaker and there's nothing we can do about it."

Darjili frowned.  All that he said spoke directly to the core of her being.

"You know what's going to happen when the leech comes, don't you?" Pecon continued.  "There's going to be a huge fight.  We'll wish Goten back to life.  Everyone will get together for the fight, but only the Saiyans will actually do the fighting.  And even then it may only be Goten, Goku, and Vegeta.  Trunks and Gohan may make an attempt, but they'll just be a stall.  There may be a transformation, a death that can be easily remedied with the dragonballs, Jiten will probably be rescued, and the rest of the world may or may not remember or care about any of it.  And you know where we'll be?  On the sidelines, along with the rest of the humans.  Oh yeah.  Maybe we'll get to give out senzu beans.  Fun!"

Darjili waited a minute to see if he was finished.  "Would you rather be killed or generally kicked around?"

Pecon glared at her.  "I'd rather have some worth.  I'd rather know that my presence actually meant something."

Darjili's brow furrowed as she considered.  "You got this all from Krillen?"

Pecon looked away.  "Well, I got all the facts from Krillen-san.  He didn't seem to have that much of a problem with it, though.  It just disturbed me greatly."

Darjili was remembering back to a similar talk she'd had recently with her father.  "Pecon, do you remember what they told us about the whole Cell thing?"

Pecon laughed sharply.  "Do I ever.  Where do you think I'm getting this from?  Goku and Gohan did all the work in the Cell Games, with the alternates being that future Trunks, Vegeta, and maybe Piccolo.  The humans were still useless."

Darjili shook her head.  "No, not the Cell Games.  Cell had been terrorizing everyone days before, and people had been fighting him all that time.  I'm talking about when Imperfect Cell was trying to absorb 18."

Pecon cocked his head quizzically.  "Well, he did, didn't he?  I mean, what's important about that time?"

"Yeah, but…"  Darjili took a minute to collect her thoughts.  "OK, from what I remember, 17 was already absorbed, Piccolo had been knocked out, and that other android and 18 were hiding out.  The Saiyans were too busy with the Time Chamber to do anything, and Cell was about to be perfected."

Pecon still couldn't find the point.  "Well, yeah…"

"That's when my dad showed up," Darjili continued, the excitement mounting in her voice as she told the now-familiar story from so long ago.  "He didn't stand a chance against Cell, but he didn't care.  All he cared about was keeping Cell from achieving his perfect form.  So he started hitting him with Tri-beam after Tri-beam, almost killing himself in the process.  Everyone thought he was an idiot for doing it, but he sure wasn't standing on the sidelines that time."

Pecon shook his head.  "But, I mean, no offense, but he was an idiot for doing it.  His efforts didn't matter in the long-run.  Cell still absorbed 18.  He just delayed it for a little while."

"But at least he tried," Darjili said, suddenly passionate about the whole thing.  "He didn't just let Cell kill him and everyone else.  He did what he knew he was capable of doing, and didn't let anything deter him.  He kept Cell in that hole as long as he could.  He did more than I heard the stronger Vegeta or future Trunks ever did against Cell.  Call him a useless human all you like, but at the time he was the most admirable of the lot."

The two were quiet for a good long time.  The only sound was the incessant waves and the occasional snap from the slowly dying fire.  Pecon at last raised his head.  "I wish I could see it your way, Darjili."

Darjili watched as Pecon walked over to his sleeping bag.  "I wish I could too."

*****

The five trudged through East Capital City, both tired and hungry.  They'd stopped flying a few miles from the city in order to not attract attention.  Pecon wondered why they even bothered.  It wasn't like flying people even made the news anymore. 

Though it seemed that bald people did make the news, he noted with some irritation.  People just seemed dead set on staring at his shiny bald head and incense burns.  It was as if they'd never seen a monk before.

Pecon looked down at his clothes, a wry grin forming on his face.  Alright, so perhaps they'd never seen a monk dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, so maybe he was a bit of an oddity.  Plus, monks tended to stay away from large cities, opting for the more traditional life.

"Darn it!" Pan ranted in frustration.  "It keeps moving!"  She hit the edge of the dragon radar, as if she could make the dragonball sit still by doing that.

"Maybe it's in a car," Danton commented absently.

"Wow, Danton," Krianan popped in.  "Did you think of that all by yourself?"

Danton grinned at her.  "Well, if I let you do all me thinking for me, I'd have… uh…"  He frowned.  "…done something… without thinking… yeah."

"Nice, Danton," Darjili laughed.  "Apparently someone needs to do your thinking for you."

"Hey, lay off," Danton complained.  "I'm… hungry.  I can't think when I'm hungry."

Krianan snorted.  "It's not as if you're a Saiyan.  Have a little discipline."

Pan looked up from the radar and scowled.  "Hey, what was that supposed to mean?"

Krianan sweatdropped.  "Uh…"

Darjili was in her blonde mode.  "It means that Saiyans eat a lot, and complain when they're hungry.  Why?  Are you going to dispute that?"

Pan's stomach growled.  She glared and looked away without further comment.

"So…" Danton began.  "Food?"

Pecon looked at his watch, realizing the question was probably directed at him.  Unwillingly he and Darjili were usually at the head of the group. 

"Tell ya what," Pecon said casually.  "If we don't find the dragonball in an hour, we eat.  But we need to find that dragonball first."

"Whoever heard of finding a dragonball in a city anyway," Pan complained.  "It's not like the wilderness where you can go straight to it.  Every time I get us on course, the street direction changes."

Danton groaned.  "Can't we just fly, for now?"

Darjili shook her head emphatically.  "No good.  Flying people in cities have never meant good.  It'll cause a panic."

Danton laughed.  "Can we cause a panic in an hour?"

Krianan smirked at him.  "With the way you eat, you couldn't help but cause a panic."

Danton rolled his eyes.  "I think you're talking about a certain Saiyan…"

Pan whirled around on a heel, her face red.  "OK!  I get it!  I'm a Saiyan, so I eat!  Isn't that funny?!  It's frickin' hilarious!  Gets better every time!"

The five stopped, oblivious to the stares they were drawing.  Danton took a step back, surprised.

"What the heck is your problem?" Krianan surprisingly came to Danton's defense.

Pan crossed her arms confrontationally.  "I just don't like my… difference… being pointed out at every opportunity.  I wish you'd get a new thing."

"Why are you so upset about that… difference?" Danton advanced.  "It's not like you suffer from it.  You're stronger than all of us."

"OK, you don't know what it's like, Danton," Pan said.  "You're normal."

Danton braced to let loose another verbal barrage, but Krianan got there first.  "Hey, you may have personal problems, but that's no reason to take it out on Danton."

Danton glowered at Krianan.  "Hey, I was handling it.  Don't come to my rescue."

Krianan raised an eyebrow at Danton.  "I was just trying to help you out.  I didn't have to."

"No, you didn't," he countered.

Darjili looked wide-eyed to the three glaring warriors.  "Hey… Pan… where's the dragonball now?" she asked, hoping to change the subject.

Danton looked away from Krianan.  "Why ask her?  It's not like she can actually work the thing."

Darjili backed away as the three got in a shouting match.  She sat by Pecon on a bench, who was ignoring the entire thing.  He was counting out money to see where they could afford to eat for lunch.  People had stopped even noticing the three teenagers fighting.

"OK," Pecon said, carefully putting the money back in his billfold.  "We pretty much figured out that four of the dragonballs are hidden away from the city, so we only have to buy this meal and one more.  Looks like we have more than plenty for that and for any emergencies.  We can eat at someplace semi-nice today, so we can have a nice meal in us before resorting to fish and game again."

Darjili had been staring at him the entire time, a confused expression on her face.  "Uh… Pecon?"  She waved a hand in front of his face as he was looking through a business directory.

"What is it, Darjili?" Pecon asked tiredly.  "Is it about them arguing?  What do you want me to do about it?"

Darjili shifted.  "Well… can't you stop it?"

Pecon deftly caught the radar that had been sent sailing through the air when it was apparently slapped out of Pan's hands.  "Look, this is either extremely serious or just blowing off steam.  If it's blowing off steam, then it's not worth being dragged into the argument.  If it's something that's serious and will split up the group?  Well…" he paused, considering.  "It's still not worth it."

Darjili crossed her arms, unmoved.  "Cynic."

Pecon smiled at that.  "Well, why don't you stop it, then?"

Darjili went on the defensive.  "I tried."

Pecon's smile turned into a smirk.  "Yeah, I saw that.  Great job, by the way.  Very effective.  Put them right in their place."

Darjili raised an eyebrow.  "Well, you do it if you think you can do it better."

Pecon shook his head.  "Darjili, how is it our responsibility?  Since when did we become the leaders of the group?  I mean, we're all pretty much the same age.  Pan is stronger.  Krianan's more take-charge.  So is Danton, for that matter."

Darjili frowned.  "Kami, I don't know.  I guess it's 'cause we're live-ins.  And we substituted for classes and everything.  We've got the closest ties."

Pecon laughed.  "No we don't.  Not compared to Pan.  We live with Goten and Jita.  She's related to them.  She's spent her entire life around them."

"Well, if you're going with blood ties to the group, I've got my dad."

"Yeah, and I've got a hero worship of Krillen," Pecon retorted.  "But no one knew about us until a few years ago."

Darjili slouched.  "Well..." she began. "Can you imagine Pan leading the group?" she finally said.  "I mean, really.  And Danton and Krianan are both too arrogant.  They don't even like leading, anyway.  So we're stuck with it."

"All right!" Pan's voice cut through everything.  "That's it!"

A tossed jacket was the only warning they got when Pan suddenly attacked Danton in the street.

Pecon sighed.  "Here, hold this." He handed the radar to Darjili and got up.

Pan and Danton were already circling each other as much as patch of grass would allow.  Pecon rolled his eyes.  What are they thinking?  On the same note he realized, they're not.

In a tone that echoed Jita's harsh voice, Pecon snapped out, "That's enough!"

Krianan took shocked notice, but Pan and Danton were already lunging for each other.  Pecon bit back a curse and phased in between the two, knocking both to the ground with such force that Danton slid along the sidewalk and scraped his arms up.  Pan went to her knees and quickly regained her balance.  Pecon's arm stung from Pan's hit.

Pecon glared at the lot of them, and they suddenly got quiet, ashamed.  Danton avoided his eyes by brushing the gravel from his scrapes.  Pan and Krianan merely looked away petulantly.

"Is this what Jita and Goten would want?" Pecon said in a calm voice.  "We haven't even gotten two dragonballs, the things that are supposed to bring Goten back to life, and suddenly we're fighting?  Not only that, but in the middle of a busy city?"  He gestured vaguely to the people walking around them.  "What's wrong with you people?"

No one met his eyes.

Pecon sighed and rubbed his temple, the beginnings of a headache coming on.  "Look, it's just the pressure getting to all of us.  Remember, we made this trip to blow off steam and keep busy.  So that's what we're going to do.  We're going to expend all our energy to finding those dragonballs, and then we're going home to train, and pretty soon Goten will be back.  We'll have someone to tell us what to do again, because apparently some of us need that," he ended in a particularly nasty shot.

A wince went through the group.  However, it was accompanied by a silent truce.  Everyone knew that the only thing that really mattered was getting Goten back.  They were being selfish in deterring that from happening with petty squabbles.  They were both ashamed and frustrated.

Not that they'd admit that.

"It stopped!!" Darjili shrieked.

Tension momentarily forgotten, the group crowded around the bench where Darjili was currently holding the dragon radar in triumph.  While they had been arguing and lecturing, Darjili, hungry herself, had been carefully monitoring the progress of the elusive dragonball.

"Where do you see it?" Pan asked, trying to get a better look at it.

Darjili squinted at the reading.  "I'm guessing… about a block from here.  Left."

Danton spun and started running in that direction.  "C'mon!" he called to the others.  "Before it moves again!"

The others immediately followed him, trying desperately not to knock over innocent passers-by or harm any property.  It was a difficult task, though.  Already the dragonball was moving slightly, so they had to hurry.

Darjili came to a sudden stop, making everyone else bump into her.  She snagged the back of Danton's shirt before he could keep going and lose them without realizing.

"Hey, Darjili," Krianan said, slightly out of breath from the sudden mad dash, "Why'd ya stop here?"

Darjili looked around, holding the radar like a weapon.  "It's gotta be around here somewhere."

The other four crowded around Darjili as she inched forward, seemingly aimlessly.  The dragonball was nowhere apparent, but it was small and easily missed.  They knew that for a fact from their previous retrieval.

Pecon's eyes began to cross from the close analysis of their surroundings to find a small orange ball.  He blinked several times, his eyes watering.  When his eyes came into focus, he thought he was seeing things.  Then he hoped he was seeing things.  Then he prayed to Kami he was seeing things.

"Do you see what I see?" Krianan asked quietly.

"That couldn't possibly…" Pan began.

It is, Pecon realized.  They were seeing one of the legendary seven dragonballs, the multiple savior of all mankind and the hope for the future, an all-powerful ancient relic… in the hands of a little golden-haired drooling toddler.  The child was at this point tossing it up in the air as high as it could, and then catching it and trying to stuff it in her mouth.

They were at the edge of the park, and Pecon could see no mother for the child anywhere.  Pecon and the rest sat down on another park bench to consider.

"How are we going to steal from a kid?" Danton was the first to speak up.

"Well…" Pan said, "It's not stealing, really.  I mean, it's not like the kid own the thing.  Kid probably just found it, or maybe the parents did."

"What parents?" Krianan asked with a sarcastic twinge.

The five looked around suspiciously, but there was no one to be found.  They realized that they could conceivably just walk up to the kid and take the ball, but no one wanted to do that.  However they tried to rationalize it, it just seemed wrong.

"Oh, come on," Pecon said impatiently.  "We'll just swipe it when the kid isn't looking.  We've gotten much faster than the human eye."

Darjili laughed.  "Well, if you're so confident, oh mighty thief, then you take it."

Pecon squared himself.  "All right, I will."  He got up, aware that the others were staring at him.  No matter what his rationalization or resolve, he still hesitated.

"Go on," Danton encouraged him quietly.  "Just get it over with and then we can eat."

Pecon's heart was in his throat.  He gave two hard swallows and slowly approached the child.  I'll have to move faster than this if I'm going to get the thing.

In a sudden burst of speed, Pecon raced forward and grabbed the dragonball just as it sailed high in the air, thrown by the child.  Pecon stopped and stared at it happily, his heart pounding from the sudden burst of energy and the sheer audacity of his action.  He marveled at the five-star dragonball and wondered why everyone made such a big deal out of finding it.

"Hey, you!!  Just what are you doing to my baby?!"

Pecon whirled around and the sound and realized that he hadn't thought enough to put some more distance between him and the child.  The child was currently wailing her eyes out and pointing straight at Pecon.

The other Spider students were staring, wide-eyed, at the scene.  No one was moving.

The woman, who had before been absent from the scene, was now holding and trying to comfort the child, while at the same time looking accusingly at Pecon.  "What are you, a pervert?!" she continued to scream.  Then she spotted the "toy."  "Trying to steal from my baby?!"

Something connected in Pecon's brain at the word "steal."  He realized that he was in the middle of a city with a woman with a crying child practically screaming that he had molested the girl.  He had never before dealt with such a situation, and he didn't really see a way out of it.  He did something he did know how to do, however.  He ran.

Running for a normal human would have been a foolhardy effort, especially with the police undoubtedly coming.  Running for him, however, was something almost surpassing the speed of sound.  In fact, running turned into flying as he was joined by the other Spider students, who had no doubt that they would be arrested for being associated with him.

About fifty miles west of the city, they stopped, breathing hard in earnest.  Pecon had to force himself to lose the death-grip on the dragonball that had caused so much trouble.  He wiped the sweat from his bald head.

Slowly, as he thought about his situation, a grin began to form on his lips.  Then a chuckle.  Finally he was laughing rather hysterically, partly in relief and partly for the absurdity of the situation.  The others at first stared, and then they joined in.  It's hard to stay out of a good laugh.

As they slowed down, Darjili wiped her eyes, gulping for breath.  "So… why are we laughing again?"

Danton was still laughing, though he was clutching his sides in pain.  "Did you see the look on Pecon's face when that woman pointed at him and accused him of… of…"  He broke off, unable to contain himself.

"What look?" Pecon asked.  That started everyone off again.

The five landed in a nice country field to rest from their mad dash and their bout with the giggles. 

Krianan laid back in the grass.  "Well, I hope we don't have to do anything worse than that for a dragonball."

Pan rolled her eyes, though all malice between them was temporarily forgotten.  "What are the chances of that?"

*****

Darjili glared at Krianan.  "You had to open your big mouth back there, didn't you?"

Krianan crossed her arms.  "Well, it's not like I expected it to be ironically prophetic or anything."

Darjili shook her head.  "You're always prophetic.  You can't help it.  Maybe you're meant to be a fortuneteller or something."

Krianan seemed to consider.  "Well, Uranai Baba does make really good money."

Darjili looked away, which was just fine with Krianan.  Darjili tended to get a little high-handed on occasions, especially when she was in her blonde mode.  She also thought that she knew everything.

Krianan surveyed the bank.  The First Bank of South City, main branch, to be exact.  It was a fortress-like building with a slight Greco-Roman design of pillars and pale brick.  Guards were at all the entrances.  Not the old codgery bank security that she'd seen at the banks in Satan City.  No, these were people from an actual unit of the Royal Army, since part of the royal treasury was stored in the bank. 

Krianan looked back at the newspaper that had so horrified her from where she'd seen it, lying face-up in the garbage.  Right smack dab in the middle of the front page was a picture of the one-star dragonball.  Under it was a caption that labeled it "the most recent addition to the royal treasury."  Apparently some treasure hunter who knew the dragonball's worth had been trying to sell it to the highest bidder.  Unfortunately, the government was also quite aware of the value of the dragonballs, and had eventually bought the powerful bauble from the man, at a set price.

Krianan knew that no one was going to be able to get close to that dragonball.  Right now it was being housed and protected in a special vault in the high-security bank.  They had no true legal claim to the dragonball, so it was not feasible to just go up to the guards, or even the king of the world, and ask for the dragonball.  The people who know about it should really keep all of them under wraps, she thought.  Then this wouldn't happen.

Of course, Krianan realized that someone like Bulma-san would just negotiate with the king or buy it from him.  She wouldn't have any problem with this obstacle.  In fact, she could still do it.  The Spider students had discussed calling Bulma… and then threw out that idea.

Yes, threw it out.  Krianan was glad.  She was determined to do this on her own… or her and the group do it on their own.  They had to prove that they didn't need anyone's assistance, that they had worth of their own.  And part of that was collecting the dragonballs unassisted, no matter what it took.

Krianan looked over at Darjili, who was already undoubtedly making plans.  She felt very much the side-kick.  Ever since their search had started that feeling of inadequacy was made painfully clear to her.  She and Danton were at the same power level, roughly, and Darjili, Pecon, and Pan were all stronger than them.  No matter how hard they worked, they still couldn't surpass the Saiyan or the two live-ins.

Krianan had considered moving into the Spider house, but that would have cost more money – money that her parents just didn't have.  That's what really set her apart from the others.  Pecon was pretty much set for life with the inheritance he was drawing now that he was old enough.  Darjili had enough from her parents' money, most of which Krianan realized was obtained through less than lawful means.  Pan had enough from her grandfather Satan, and Danton wasn't bad off himself.  Krianan was the only one who actually had a job.  Everyone else just went to school and studied at the Spider dojo.  Krianan had a part-time job at a construction company.  Of course, she could have easily taken a job in a store, restaurant, or office, but that was just so stereotypically feminine.  Krianan would do nothing that propagated female subservience.  She took the male job, and excelled at it.

Darjili began to leave.  Krianan guessed that Darjili had "cased the joint" and followed her.  Krianan was determined not to be subservient in this either, even to other women.  She had to prove that she was tough enough to do and excel in anything.  That's why she was being so confrontational lately.  She just felt like doing something drastic.

The two met up with Pecon, Danton, and Pan.  Danton shifted his feet and spoke in a low tone.  "So how did it look?"

Darjili crossed her arms.  "No good.  But I think we can get in there tonight if we're fast and careful."

Pecon looked over his shoulder at the bank.  "Do we really want to… rob… the place?  I mean, isn't that a little drastic?"

Krianan rolled her eyes.  "Well, what do you propose we do?  Stroll over there and ask for it, just because we want to wish our sensei back from the dead because someone is coming to destroy the world?"  She snorted in disdain.

Pan cocked her head.  "Makes sense to me."

Krianan shook her head.  "Listen, if you're all too chicken to do it, then I will."

Darjili's head snapped over.  "What?  Don't you think we should do this together?"

Krianan set herself.  She knew she was the least qualified and possibly the weakest, but she also knew that if she got away with it, her merit would shoot up tenfold.  "Listen," she continued, "the more people we bring in there the more chances for being caught.  One person would have the best chance, and I'm the most logical."

The four others looked at her doubtfully, so Krianan went into a careful explanation, most of which was made up on the spot.  "The… thief…" Pecon flinched as she said this, "has to be small, so Danton is automatically out.  Darjili, what if you sneezed during it.  That always slows you down and might draw attention."

Darjili looked slightly affronted, but she nodded her assent.

Krianan sighed.  So far so good.  "Pan, you're recognizable.  Everyone knows the granddaughter of Satan-san.  And Pecon…"

She was suddenly at a loss for words.

Pecon supplied them, however.  "I'm already slightly in trouble with the law.  I don't want to get in more trouble.  And I don't like this altogether, though I see why it needs to be done.  OK, Krianan.  Looks like you're the most logical person after all.  You're non-descript enough to do it."

Krianan realized what her arguments had backed her into.  Nondescript.  Such a horrible adjective.  She naturally grated against it, but it was to no avail.  That was what got her into the job, so she would have to stand by her arguments.

Darjili pursed her lips.  "OK, looks like I'll have to teach you some of what to do."

Pan cocked her head.  "Darjili, how would you know how to pull off a bank heist?"

Darjili grinned.  "Oh, come on.  You don't think that my mother taught me nothing.  I loved it when Mom was in blonde mode and taught me all those tricks of the trade for a thief.  Half of my mother was a really great thief.  It was the other half that made her get caught."

Krianan rolled her eyes at another strange and quirky thing that made her companions so interesting.  Both of Krianan's parents were dentists, and would be horrified to know that their little girl was holding up a bank.

*

Krianan crept noiselessly through the labyrinth of hallways in the bank.  She carefully read for any kis that happened into the bank.  All she could feel were a few bug-sized signals and some guards in the front entrance.  They had been confused as to why the bank was so poorly guarded until they realized that today was Satan Day, the anniversary of one of Satan-san's achievements or another.  They knew it wasn't the end of the Cell Games, but frankly, they just didn't care.  All they knew was that everyone was out celebrating instead of guarding the dragonball.

The night was so extremely dark that Krianan had to concentrate almost everything just to see.  Pan would have been able to almost see in the dark, a nasty little voice in Krianan's head rang out.

To ignore her doubts, Krianan went through everything Darjili had told her.  She wasn't making any sound, not even breathing.  She was balancing on the balls of her feet just in case she had to make a break for it.  She was memorizing every exit and hiding place as she went along, and the information was threatening to become muddled in her brain.  Somehow, through severe mental discipline over the past few years, she was able to keep it all straight in her head.

She slid along the wall, keeping close watch for security cameras as well, and started to see the attraction for being a thief or an assassin.  There was something comforting and exciting at the same time about being at one with the shadows.  It was almost like she could merge with them – the she could do anything as long as she was careful to stay within their comforting blanket.  She could imagine stalking a prey, even a human prey, for death or merely plunder, and feeling the glee of having complete control and expertise.  It was practically addictive.

All too soon Krianan came upon the energy signature of the dragonball.  There had been stories of people tracking down dragonballs by energy signatures alone.  It was apparently much easier with the Namekian dragonballs, since those were so huge, but it required much more concentration for the smaller Earth dragonballs.  Since Krianan didn't want to bring in the noisy showy radar, she spent the better part of the afternoon just learning to focus on the dragonball's power signature.  Right now it was beginning to become second nature to keep the ki of the dragonball in the back of her senses.

The vault was open.

Krianan didn't think that was very strange at first.  She was just relieved that she didn't have to try any of those safe-cracking tricks she'd had a crash course in a few hours ago. 

Then she realized the enormity of the situation.  That vault was open.  She didn't sense anyone in there, but there may be plenty of safety precautions if she went in there.  The place may have even been harboring an android or robot or something like that.  Rumors were that the government had confiscated a lot of the Red Ribbon Army technology when Goku had destroyed them all.  That ended up being the basis of a lot of modern technology that wasn't Capsule Corp in origin.  But right now Krianan didn't care.  All she wanted to do was to get the dragonball, and if that meant destroying a robot, then so be it.

She pushed the door open.

"Who goes there?" came a nasally voice from the dark.

Krianan winced as twin red lights shone in her eyes, confirming her fears of a robot or android.  She merely tried to melt into the shadows.

"Are you trying to hide from me?" the voice continued after a moment.  "You needn't try.  I see you, girl.  Now why would a nice girl like you be trying to steal from the royal treasury?"

"What does it matter if I'm a girl or not?"  Krianan slapped a hand over her mouth.  Stupid! she screamed at herself. 

A light started to slowly illuminate the surroundings.  At the corner of the vault was the one-star dragonball, sitting on a purple cushion.  There were no other ornaments to the room, not even an obvious security camera.  And right in front of her was a tall… man? machine?  Krianan couldn't decide which.  He was extremely thin with black hair tied in a knot.  He wore traditional garb usually found more in the country.  And he had goggles for eyes and various mechanical attachments to his body.

He was positively horrifying.

The figure chuckled.  "So, if you don't want to be called "girl," then tell me your name?  Or shall I make one up?"

Krianan shook her head.  "Uh-uh.  Why should I tell a robot that I'm about to dismantle anyway?"

The man's laugh grew louder.  "Robot?  That's a new one… not!" he ended sarcastically.  "If you must know, girl, I am a man, with certain cybernetic implants. They make me faster, stronger, and more deadly than you can imagine."

Krianan crossed her arms.  She knew she needed to leave, but the verbal repartee was keeping her back.  She never could resist it.

"Well, excuse me, Mr. Bionic Man, but you don't look like you were ever deadly to begin with."

The man smirked.  "That shows how much the younger generation is pathetically uneducated.  Surely you recognize the greatest assassin of the world."

"If you're such a great assassin," Krianan said, edging slowly toward the dragonball, "then why is an outlaw like you protecting the royal treasury?"

The man's smirk broadened.  "Community service.  Speaking of which, I need to do this community some service by getting rid of you."

Krianan crouched warily, not entirely sure how strong the… whatever… was.  She couldn't even feel any ki from him, but that meant nothing if he was a cyborg.  He could easily beat her up, for all she knew.  So Krianan waited.

Neither spoke a word.  While Krianan was in a defensive stance, the assassin was standing stock-still and straight with his hands behind his back.  Krianan couldn't tell what he was thinking or feeling.  If he wasn't talking, he was as lifeless as a mannequin.  It reminded her of all the horror movies she'd ever seen, which was quite a lot.  The very unnatural blending of machinery and body parts that she could almost sense from him made her want to get out of there as quick as possible.  But he was in between her and the dragonball.  She couldn't leave that.

Losing patience, Krianan lunged for him.  She didn't use all her power, but it was enough to where a normal person wouldn't even be able to tell her movements.

But he apparently could.  The assassin dodged and grabbed her arm, throwing her off balance and whipping her around.  She skidded across the floor, making an awkward screeching rub when her skin stayed in contact with the metal floor.  She got back up, cursing herself for dropping her guard and being so sloppy.

Krianan didn't have long to curse, though.  The assassin was already running toward her, so she dodged him.  He spun before he made contact with the wall, only to see a fist heading straight for his head.  He moved his head to the side, and Krianan's fist dented the metal wall behind him.  She went in with her other fist, successfully planting it in his stomach.  Before he could so much as cough, she threw him across the room.

Now, this would be the time that Krianan would regret long afterward.  The cyborg was dazed for the moment.  She could have easily grabbed the dragonball right then, and would have the luxury of a choice of making a break for it or killing the cyborg.  That would have been the most logical thing to do.  Of course, Krianan wasn't logical, and never had been.  She went after the cyborg, intent on finishing the job.

The assassin was ready for her, however.  He was not so dazed after all.  He threw off one of his hands, revealing a rather large cannon.

"Super Dodonpa!" he screamed.  A light  blasted forth, and Krianan had to duck.

The blasts singed her where they got too close to her.  Krianan realized that there was some electricity mixed in with the ki.  The blasts came in fast, but she was able to concentrate to get a few blasts of her own through.  Most of them were countered by dodonpa blasts, but she was pleased to see that the assassin's clothes were becoming blackened, and a few circuits were dangling here and there.

"What are you, made of dilithium?" Krianan shrieked in frustration.

The assassin merely smirked and continued his barrage with renewed vigor.  Krianan began to work her way closer towards him, still working on dodging his blasts.  She finally got in close enough to grab the arm… when a blade came right at her.

A sharp pain when right across her stomach, and she reached down only to feel wet blood and torn fabric.  A fleeting thought went through her mind of how glad she was that the blade didn't go higher, and therefore became a stereotypical part of a female in a fight.  She didn't have long to think, though.  The blasts had stopped, but the blade was coming at her again.

Krianan ducked and rolled out of the way.  Still close to the ground, she flung a leg out, tripping the cyborg up.  He landed on the ground with a dull thud mixed with the clack of his metal components hitting metal.  Krianan got up and kicked the flat of the blade forcefully, dislodging it from her opponent's wrist and sending it clanging to the other end of the room… toward the dragonball.

She considered heading in that direction, but she was still worried about the cannon on the cyborg's other hand.  She didn't want to turn her back on him.  Instead, she began kicking him in the gut, thinking he would eventually lose consciousness.  Plus, it just felt to satisfying to kick him in the gut.  He made these groans that told her that she was getting him right where it hurt.

After a minute, the groans faded away.  Krianan gave one last kick for good measure and then knelt down to check for a pulse.  She felt none, and was pretty sure that, whoever the cyborg was, it was dead.  Krianan felt a little sick about killing what may have been a person, but she pushed those feelings away.  She was just dealing with her mission.

Krianan rose and felt a little stinging jab from getting up too fast.  She shook her leg to get rid of the tingles as she tried to walk over to the dragonball.  She had to stop, though, when the tingles only intensified, along with black dots in front of her eyes.  Krianan tried to shake it and put it from her head.  She'd been trained to ignore pain and weakness, after all.  She was just tired, or the fight might have taken more out of her than she though.  Yeah.  That was it.

After one more step she stumbled to her knees.  She could barely feel the impact of the hard floor after the unchecked fall.  The pain was more in her head, literally, and a little in her thigh.  She moved her hand down to the pain in her thigh and felt a little blood.  Her hand ventured upward slightly.  That's when she felt the hard projection, like…

"A dart?" Krianan said to no one in particular, her speech a little more slurred than it should have been.  "Wha-"

She stopped talking.  Nausea had just hit her, and she felt like she was going to lose the roast fish on the vault floor.  Her vision was more black spots than light.  She was still making a valiant effort to get up, but the sickness in her stomach and throat would not allow it.

Through her muddled mind, she realized what had happened.  That bast…

Krianan didn't get to finish her thought.

*****

Pan, Danton, Pecon, and Darjili waited impatiently in the park across from the bank.  They were not alarmed that they couldn't feel Krianan's ki.  She was trying to be stealthy, after all.  What did worry them was the sudden upsurge in ki only moments before.  Perhaps she'd had to use it to get past a security system.  Perhaps not.

"We should really go check on her," Danton said aloud the thing he'd been thinking for practically an hour.

"Not yet," Darjili said shortly.  "Give her time."

Pecon sighed and folded his arms.  "I'm beginning to agree with Danton.  She's been in there too long, and who knows what trouble she's gotten herself into."

Pan rolled her eyes.  "Boy, you have a lot of faith in her."

Pecon set himself.  "Yes, I do have faith in her.  Remember, I was against this in the very beginning.  I'd be saying the same thing about anybody."

Danton shook his head.  "I'm sorry, but I don't know if I have faith in Krianan about this.  She's too stubborn and so ready to prove herself that she'll do just about anything without thinking.  That's not a good thing for such a delicate mission."

Darjili thought for a minute.  "Her reasoning may have been self-promoting and therefore biased, but most of it was true.  She really is physically the best of us to go in there.  Theoretically, I would have been the most logical choice, but then I thought of how many times my mother said that her various crimes went wrong when she changed at an inconvenient time."

"But Darjili," Pecon interjected, "you can control it better than she ever could.  You don't lose memory or anything."

Darjili stared straight ahead.  "Still too much of a risk." 

Their conversation was cut short by a figure coming at them slowly in the dark.  They tensed.  They had been watching for policemen all night.  Strangely enough, they had seen no one.  They had been a little suspicious of how there was so little evidence of security at a bank.  None of them were expert criminals, even Darjili, but they had still had their doubts.

The figure was not of a policeman.  If it were, he or she would probably be stopping in a car instead of wandering around alone, making it easy to be incapacitated.  So they jumped to the more likely candidate for the identity of the vague shadow.

"Krianan!" Pan shouted.  "'Bout time!"

"Shh," Pecon warned her.

"Is that the name of the girl who dared challenge me?" a nasally voice cut into the darkness.

The four were immediately on their guard, driving away the shock of the full import of what the figure was saying.

"What do you mean?" Darjili asked threateningly.

The assassin stepped into the light and seemed to carefully survey the four who had now taken defensive stances.  "I had conjectured that she would have compatriots.  I am relieved to see that I haven't lost my edge after all these years."

Darjili stared at the symbol on the man's chest, trying to remember where she had seen it before.

"What do you have to do with Krianan?!" Danton screamed.

The assassin chuckled.  "Why, haven't you guessed?  I was guarding the vault with the little orange bauble.  Now, I will not get amnesty if someone steals the prize of the royal treasury.  So why don't you stop while you still can.  You're all too young to be experienced thieves, so I wish to give novices a second chance.  Leave this place."

"We're not going anywhere without Krianan AND the dragonball," Pan interjected.

Darjili suddenly grinned in recognition.  "Why would you need amnesty, Taopiepie?  Did you finally get caught?"

The assassin's eyes widened.  "So the younger generation is not completely ignorant of their recent history.  Or did I kill your father or something.  Is this a revenge thing?" he asked with a sneer.

Darjili snorted.  "You didn't kill my father.  Not that you didn't try, though.  Why he spared your sorry excuse for a life I have no idea."

She had expected Taopiepie to panic just a little, or at least be awestruck.  Instead, he laughed.

"You mean Tenshinhan procreated?" Taopiepie spouted out incredulously.  "What a ludicrous notion.  Tell me, where's the third eye?"

Darjili growled.

"Um…" Pecon began, "You know this guy?"

Taopiepie smirked when Darjili didn't answer.  "I was her father's master and role model.  He used to be a fairly good assassin, and he would have gotten much better if he hadn't been brainwashed by that Turtle Hermit."  He shook his head wryly.  "But then, of course, he probably wouldn't have had such a charming offspring."

Darjili growled again.

"Articulate, too," Taopiepie added.

Danton huffed impatiently.  Knowing the history of their opponent was all well and good, but they were wasting time, and the assassin may have even contacted the police or army or something.  "Give us back Krianan!" he shouted.

Taopiepie smiled.  "Yes, that's the second time that girl has been requested.  Unfortunately, I can't.  She has to stay and take the consequences.  You all can go, since you weren't recorded on security camera, but she was."

Darjili's eyes narrowed.  "Why are you offering to let us go in the first place?"

Taopiepie smirked.  "Your father may have told you horror stories about me, but he only gave you a one-sided view.  I have no patience for small children making themselves out to be heroes, but for those who are willing to bend the rules, and know what they're doing?  Let's just say I'm sympathetic.  Now get out of here."

Darjili was about to launch into another question or denunciation, but Pecon cut her off.  "Look," he began, "we can't leave without the dragonball."  He raised his arms before him, palms out, in a sign of placation.

If Taopiepie had eyebrows, one would have been raised.  "Why are you so bent on getting a dragonball?  The last time I had to fight someone for a dragonball, he was merely collecting them for training."

Pecon winced, but went on.  "There is that factor, but we have to have them.  Our master died a few months ago.  We have to use the dragonballs to bring him back to life.  It was a promise."

Taopiepie considered for a minute.  "So, you're saying that the rules of death don't work for him when it works for everyone else?  That your master, merely because he is Son Goku's son, gets preferential treatment?"

The Spider students were astonished.  He chuckled at their expressions.  "What, you think that you're the only ones who watch the Budoukai?  It was a simple deduction."

Darjili's eyes grew hard.  "And this argument is from a man who should by all rights be dead, and IS dead in a sense, but cheated death through cybernetics?"

Taopiepie grinned.  "You got me there.  So, I suppose we'll fight for it?"

Darjili nodded.  "You and me."

"Now, wait a minute, Darjili," Pan protested, "You can't be sure what he did to defeat Krianan.  Sure, you're stronger than her, but not by that much."

Darjili walked away from the others.  "I'll be fine.  Besides, this is personal."

Darjili powered up, setting herself for a fight. 

Taopiepie folded his arms and chuckled.  "Well, I suppose further reasoning would be an exercise in futility.  You're just as stubborn as your father."  He frowned and pulled himself into stance.

The two stared each other down for a minute.  Unlike Krianan, Darjili had plenty of patience.  She'd learned it when trying to train herself in a personality problem.  She stayed as still as stone, not buying any of his feints.

The others stood by and watched.  They were sure that they couldn't get past him to find Krianan in the vault.  And even if they did, they couldn't be sure if they would find her there.  All they could do was wait.

Taopiepie made the first move.  He ran in for a punch in one sudden move, trying to take Darjili off guard.  His plan seemingly failed.  She was ready for him, blocking the fist and any other fist he threw her way.  She continued to dodge and block, though everyone could tell that her movements were getting a little desperate.  Taopiepie didn't fight like anyone she had ever fought before.

So she decided to break from just defense.  Darjili caught one of Taopiepie's fists and delivered her own fist into his gut.  Her knuckles bruised against metal, but he felt it too.  She smiled grimly and started a barrage of her own.  He blocked most, but not all.  Taopiepie was also getting desperate.  He didn't think new person was left who could dent his armor.

The two locked arms and struggled, each trying not to give first.  Darjili drove her nail into some flesh she found in his arms.  She used to hate to fight dirty, but Jita had taught her that the tricks were useful when she was in a real fight.  And this was a real fight.

Blood ran down Darjili's knuckles and stained Taopiepie's gi.  Although, she noted with a sick feeling, no all of the blood was his.  Darjili had split the skin of several of her knuckles when she had been punching him.  She hadn't noticed it until now.

Taopiepie noticed it too, and grinned, despite his own painful condition.  Just because he was a cyborg didn't mean he didn't feel pain.  But this was a fight, and pain was expected, and used to spur on the fighting spirit.  He also grinned at her attempts to fight dirty, knowing that he was the expert at it.

Darjili began to sweat, her palms tiring and stinging from the armlock.  Then her palms burned.  Then…

"Augh!" Darjili cried out sharply, jerking her hands away from Taopiepie's burning-hot arms.  Taopiepie used the momentum and the expected movement to slam into Darjili, sending her skidding across the pavement a few feet.  Then he chuckled… and waited.

Darjili got to her feet, hastily pulling her hands away from the pavement.  The hands were in bad shape.  Her knuckles were split, her palms had blistering burns, and pieces of flesh not her own were embedded in her fingernails.  She blew on her hands, but knew that she could do no more right now.  She had to finish the fight.

Taopiepie huffed mockingly.  "Are you done licking your wounds, already?  You don't see me obsessing over a few paltry flesh wounds."  His arms bled nonetheless.

Darjili pulled herself together.  "Don't think you've gained the advantage over me.  I am stronger than you."

Taopiepie smirked.  "And what a fine job you're doing of showing it.  Though perhaps you'd like a little less contact.  Give your poor little hands a rest."  With that he uncovered the cannon in his arm.

Now, you don't see people remove their arms every day, so Darjili was slightly shocked.  She recovered quickly, though, and readied herself.

"Super Dodonpa!" Taopiepie screamed, and let forth the blast.

Darjili stood her ground and crossed her arms in front of her face.  They were in the city, possibly even near residences.  She couldn't just dodge and let the blast destroy everything in its wake.  She realized that the assassin just might not care, and that gave him the advantage.  However, the blast wasn't all that powerful.  She could bear it.

There was a pause in Taopiepie's actions.  Though to a weaker fighter it would have seemed like nothing.  Darjili realized that he had to use a few seconds to charge back for another attack.  She took the advantage and decided to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Darjili, quick as lightning, pointed her palm to the cyborg and let loose a ki-blast… which he dodged, and drove her to her knees.  It hurt so much!  She hadn't realized that gathering ki in injured palms could hurt.  She closed her eyes, cursing her own weakness.

Then she heard gasps.

She looked up, nearly expecting to find Taopiepie right upon her, but he was staring away from her, gaping slightly.

"What the hell did you do, girl?" he asked quietly.

Darjili was confused about that, until she looked up and saw the fire.  And the smoke.  And the ash.  And that the bank was not there.

Darjili let the fact sink in.

The bank was not there.

Taopiepie looked around sharply, suddenly scared to death.  "The hell with this," he muttered.  A metal beam had landed close by, so the assassin picked it up, threw it as hard as he could, and jumped onto it.  He was completely untrackable within seconds.

Darjili was still on her knees.  She didn't even try to halt Taopiepie's retreat.  She was too busy searching desperately for Krianan's ki.

She couldn't find it.  So she did the only logical thing to do.  She began to cry.

Not silent sullen tears.  Oh no.  These were loud racking sobs that made her face scrunch up beyond recognition.  This entire night was too much for her to take.

Vaguely she realized that arms were picking her up.  She didn't even care to see if it was the police carrying her off to jail.  She realized it wasn't when she was lifted high off the ground.  She looked around her to see Danton and Pecon, tears streaming down both of their faces.  Pan was further to the side with a glassy expression on her face.

No, Darjili thought.  Turn back.  She may have survived.  I may not have…

But they were too far away already.  Surely there would be law enforcement everywhere.  Not even their connections could get them out of this jam.

Darjili consigned herself to a stupor until they landed far away from the city in the woods where they had last set up camp.  Darjili slumped to the ground when she was let go.

"She's dead," Darjili croaked out.  "I killed her.  She's dead."

"Who's dead?"

Darjili slowly looked up, unbelieving.  That voice…

There was Krianan, grinning mischievously, and holding a dragonball.

"Krianan!!" Darjili heard Danton yell.  Danton raced past her to throw his arms around Krianan, weeping and laughing at the same time.  Pan and Pecon followed suit soon after.

Darjili struggled to her feet and slowly walked toward the group hug that was threatening to knock Krianan down.

Krianan noticed Darjili, and broke from the group to run and embrace the injured girl.  Darjili stood stunned a minute, and then slowly pulled her arms up to enfold her friend.

"I thought I'd killed you," Darjili whispered.

Krianan laughed and pulled back.  "No way in hell, Darjili.  I'm too strong for you."

Darjili stared for a minute, and then grinned.

*****

Darjili bit back her curses, and then when the pain intensified let a few of them fly.

Pecon was getting irritated.  "Darjili, you've got to hold still."

Darjili bit her lip while her eyes watered.  She tried to control her breathing.  "It hurts, Pecon."

Darjili felt some big arms embrace her from behind and saw them latch onto her wrists.  "That oughta do it, Pecon," she heard Danton's voice near her ear.

"Hey!" Darjili shouted.  "I'm not a baby!  Lemme go!"

She saw Krianan glare darkly at her.  "At least he didn't put a bandaid on your butt."  Krianan glared at said area where Taopiepie had drugged her.

"So what are we gonna do about Taopiepie?" Pan asked through a mouthful of food.

Krianan sat next to the campfire and poked it with a stick.  "What can we do about him?  We got what we were coming for right here."  She tossed the dragonball in the air and caught it.

"Plus," Pecon began absently, "like it or not, he was in the right and we were in the wrong.  I mean, he was on the side of the law and we were stealing from a bank.  I think unless he comes after us, then we leave him alone."

"Good idea.. Besides… I blew up a bank," Darjili said through gritted teeth.  Pecon had finished disinfecting her hands and was wrapping them in bandages.

Pan had been studying the dragon radar in between bites of ramen.  Suddenly, she laughed.

"Well, it looks like the rest of the hunt is going to be easy," Pan said to the questioning stares.

Darjili was finally allowed to put her hands gingerly in her lap.  "Why is that?"

Pan grinned.  "They're right in these woods.  Grandma and Grandpa live in these woods, so they may even be at their house."

"They?" Danton asked.

Pan nodded.  "Three, to be exact.  Dragonballs always seem to just fall around this area.  If Grandpa sees one, he'll go ahead and take it home."

Pecon was packing up the first aid kit.  "So, we go there in the morning?"

Krianan shot him a glance.  "Dude.  Sleep on the ground when there's a house, as well as Chichi?  She could be baking cookies right this very moment."

"Now, wait a minute," Pecon cut in.  "We're not expected."

Pan rolled her eyes.  "Oh, come on.  Grandma won't mind."

The five looked at each other, and then with silent consensus began to pack up the rest of their stuff and fly to the Son house.

*****

Pan grinned as she began to see familiar sights that she hadn't seen in months.  She knew she was a horrible person for not visiting her grandparents all that often, especially her grandmother.  Her father would shoot looks at her sometimes, and that's when she would know that Chichi had been asking about her.

But Chichi wasn't as demanding as everyone said.  At least Pan never really got that impression.  She did get the impression, though, that her grandmother had changed a lot from how she used to act.

Pan breathed in happily, already smelling wood smoke and home cooking – the signature smell of the Son house.  She knew better than to ask the others if they smelled it too, though.  She had grown up around there, so she noticed it.  Also, she had a better sense of smell than any of the others.

"How come your grandparents live so far out in the woods?" Krianan asked absently.

Pan shrugged.  "It's not so far away from everything.  My great-grandfather's kingdom is nearby, and this is around where my grandpa landed.  Plus, they own most of this land."

Pan thought she noticed the looks the others gave her when she said "landed."  Pan grimaced.  It wasn't like she could help that her grandfather was an alien.

That was something that followed Pan around all the time.  Her parents had tried to give her a normal enough childhood.  Pan suspected it was overcompensating for their own screwed up childhoods.  Pan had gone to school like everyone else.  She'd studied hard, just like everyone else.  She'd tried to fit in… just like everyone else.

The problem was… she couldn't fit in.  From an early age both of her grandfathers had encouraged her to learn how to fight, each in their own ways.  She'd come to accept that as natural.  It had been the shock of her life when she found out that not every little girl had run around the world by the age of four.

After that, Pan had been conscious of everything she said.  But a lot of times she didn't know what other people were talking about, and they didn't know what she was talking about.  It took her forever to come to a full understanding of the whole Cell thing.

But what had made her different and stronger than the other girls had not helped her against any of the other Saiyans.  They were all stronger than her.  It chafed her to realize that both her father and Uncle Goten had achieved Super Saiyan long before the age she was now.  She could never be as strong.

She was barely Saiyan, but it was just enough to make her weird.

"Hey Pan.  Is that it?"

Pan noticed that they were right up to the house, and she grinned.  Even though this was the weirdest place in the world – the embodiment of all her difficulties – she loved it there.

The five swooped down, Pan in the forefront.  She knocked on the door, hoping that Chichi wouldn't be angry at the late hour.

"Coming!" they heard a slightly muffled voice before the door opened to reveal Chichi.  Chichi's face turned to a delighted grin, and then quickly shifted to a bemused, long-suffering smile.  "Well, what do we have here?  Come begging at the door, from a grandchild who never visits?"

Pan laughed and scratched the back of her head.  "I'm sorry, Grandma.  I've just been busy lately."

Chichi raised an eyebrow.  "Always excuses.  But I guess I can let you come in, seeing as how someone's got to eat these cookies."

The five grinned, with Krianan giving a superior look, as if to say "I told you so."  They filed in, with Pan giving Chichi a big hug.

Chichi laughed.  "So, are you all coming to spend the night or something?"

Pecon looked slightly away.  "If that's no trouble, ma'am."

Chichi rolled her eyes.  "Of course not!  You know I run a hotel here.  Everyone stays over here."

Pecon and Danton helped Chichi pull the pallets from the attic and fix up the two bedrooms while the others took care of the rest of Chichi's cookies.

They all sat down at the table, happily spreading crumbs everywhere.  "So," Chichi began, "what brings all of you out to the sticks."

Pan wiped her mouth.  "We're collecting dragonballs, and we followed the radar right here."

Chichi's eyes grew serious.  "Good.  I'm glad you're taking this seriously.  I was wondering when someone would think to gather the dragonballs… or do anything," she finished with a slightly bitter tinge.

Pan cocked her head.  "But Grandpa—"

Pan stopped when Chichi shot her a clear signal.  On that said later.  Pan shut her mouth, questions flashing in her mind.

There was tension over the cookies, the good humor having left the room.  Everyone knew that something was wrong, but no one would broach the topic.  It wasn't their business anyway.  It was a family matter.

Darjili finally stood up, wanting to give Chichi and Pan some space.  "Well, I think it's time to turn in.  We've done enough for today."  She smiled.  We've done enough damage for today.

Chichi may have been distraught, but she couldn't miss the state of Darjili's hands.  "Child, what have you done to yourself," Chichi said in shock, already rising to her feet.

Darjili tucked her hands behind her back.  "It's nothing, really"

Chichi grabbed Darjili's arms and pulled the hands near her eyes.  Darjili grimaced in renewed pain.  "Nothing, my foot," Chichi said.  "Mere disinfectant isn't going to work on this, though it's good for a start.  Come with me."

Chichi led Darjili back to the bathroom, ignoring Darjili's protests the entire time.  Chichi wasn't concerned about the girl's pride, but the girl's health.  Plus, she knew how useless a fighter was without hands.

The others tried to ignore the pained protests that could be heard from the other room.  After a moment, Pecon ventured a question.  "Are you alright, Pan?"

Pan had been staring off into space, thinking about the scanty details she'd heard about her grandfather over the past few months.  She knew that everyone was bummed out about Goten and Jita's deaths, but Goku was taking it especially hard.  The thing was… she just couldn't get a straight answer out of anyone, and it was frustrating her to no end.

Pan didn't answer Pecon's question.  Instead, she looked up along with everyone else when Goku walked into the room.

Walked wasn't really the right word.  Neither was trudged.  He just happened to walk in, mechanically.  Pan was tempted to hide the rest of the cookies, but Goku never made a grab for them.

"Hello, Goku-san!" Danton said cheerily, trying to break the tension, as well as Goku's spell.

It actually appeared to work.  Goku looked up, and automatically assumed his family bright-eyed smile.  "Hey, guys!  Pan, it's been forever!  What are you doing here?"

When Pan didn't say anything, Krianan answered.  "We're collecting dragonballs!  You have some around here?"

Goku's grin didn't change.  "Of course!  They're over by the river.  Hey Pan!  Want to help me get them?"

Pan didn't move.

There seemed to be a desperation about Goku now.  "C'mon, Pan.  It'll be just like old times!"

Pan was really weirded out by this sudden reversion to Goku's old self, and she didn't know what to make of it.  Had her grandfather finally cheered up, after months of moping about?  Pan thought about it, and actually wouldn't have put it past him.  So she decided to play along.  Though, she still couldn't figure out what that smell was…

"Sure, Grandpa!" she replied brightly.  The others were about to get up and follow her, but she shot them a look.  This was just her and her grandfather.  No one else.  The others sat down.

Pan followed Goku outside, who was chatting away about something or other.  Pan couldn't really follow his train of thought, since her own train was so worried about whether or not he was alright.

"So, Pan," Goku said, "how's collecting the dragonballs?"

Pan shrugged.  "Oh, you know.  It has to be done."

Goku laughed, and yet it sounded forced.  "Of course it has to be done.  It always has to be done.  No one's allowed to stay dead."

Pan's eyes widened in shock at those words.  Did she just hear that? 

Goku was still laughing.  He was leading her deeper into the forest.  "That's right," he said a little too brightly.  "I'm the one who started that.  Upa's father… Bora, that's the name.  And then it's been an excuse each time, even when the gods themselves have told me not to.  But we keep dying and coming back."  Goku grinned back at Pan.  "Except you.  You've never died, I don't think."

Pan realized what she'd been smelling all the way from the house, and it scared her greatly.  "Grandpa, have you been…"

But Goku cut her off.  "Hey, I've got an idea.  Let's spar, right here right now.  I know you've gotten stronger.  You're not like your father.  He stopped training.  You kept it up."

Pan stared at him unblinking.  "Grandpa, I think we need to go back."

Goku stomped his foot to the ground.  "But I want to spar!"

Pan shook her head.  "I don't think you're in the condition to do that."

Goku laughed and spun around.  "What do you mean?  I'm in top condition.  I always train.  But I've been slacking off lately, so I need to get back to it, starting now."

Pan watched as Goku was suddenly doubled over, emptying his stomach on the forest floor.  Needless to say, she was scared.  But she didn't back off.

After it was over, Goku stayed knelt on the ground, too weak and too spent to move.  Pan carefully approached him, stepping over the sick, to hoist him to his feet.  She floated to be able to keep him straight with him leaning on her.  He submitted meekly to her actions, not saying a word at first.

Then, as they neared the house, he seemed to gain a little of his senses, for he was mumbling.  "Pan… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"

Pan wanted to reassure him.  She wanted to tell him that it was nothing.  She couldn't.

Chichi was standing at the door, looking utterly horrified at the sight of her granddaughter carrying her obviously-inebriated husband toward the house.  If she said anything, Pan didn't notice.  She was too much in shock.

Chichi suddenly seemed to snap back to the present, setting her mouth in a firm line.  "Let's get him to bed, Pan," she said calmly.

Pan wondered why she didn't address her grandfather, until she noticed that the Saiyan had passed out.

As they were clunking with difficulty down the hallway, Pecon peaked out of Goten's room, which had been chosen to serve as the boys' room.  When Pan caught his eye, Pecon looked away guiltily and shut the door.

Between the two of them, Pan and Chichi managed to get Goku into bed.  Chichi pulled his boots off, but didn't bother with the rest.  She shut off the lights and ushered Pan out of the room.

Pan sat on the couch in the living room.  Well, it was less like she sat down and more like her knees wouldn't support the weight of her body anymore.  Chichi was about to sit down, but she heard the tea kettle in the kitchen, so she went to make two cups of strong tea for herself and Pan.  Pan accepted the cup gratefully, though she wasn't a big tea drinker.  But she needed something to do with her hands… or just to distract her with what had just happened.

"When did Grandpa start this?" Pan asked quietly.

Chichi sighed.  "Tonight, actually.  And don't get the wrong idea.  He wouldn't have had that much."

Pan looked up, confused.  "What?  But he… was…  Well, he was drunk."

Chichi slouched in her chair, laughing a little.  "It's because he's a Saiyan.  Apparently something in Earth alcohol gets to Saiyans faster than anything.  Ironic, really.  They have so much strength… and zero tolerance for alcohol.  That's why I've taught you not to drink."

Pan coughed slightly, looking away.  "I think I have too much human blood in me, Grandma."

Chichi raised her eyebrows at Pan.  "I won't even ask if you know that from personal experience."

Pan refused to look at her, embarrassed.

Chichi smiled softly.  "Honestly, I don't know why Goku decided to do this.  He knows his reaction."

Pan looked up.  "Could it be this whole depression thing?"

Chichi nodded, still smiling wryly.  "What else could it be?  This whole depression thing…" she mused.  "The thing is," Chichi continued, almost to herself, "Goku never knew how to deal with depression.  Still doesn't.  Whenever things go wrong, he flies off and beats someone up.  Not that I mind.  The person or thing always needs beating up.  But… actually dealing with problems?  I may be the expert at that now, but… well… I don't think the man's ever actually brooded in his life."

Pan shifted uncomfortably, yet was transfixed on what her grandmother was saying.  There was no one who knew her grandpa better than the woman who was sipping tea across from her.  Everyone else thought that they knew him, but she was the one who actually saw Goku outside of fights or sparring or get-togethers.  She was the one who knew the man behind the grinning mask.

"Pan," Chichi said abruptly, "You need to get to bed.  You've got one more dragonball to get, and then I want you to settle down for a while.  We have months before any of the craziness happens, and you don't need to waste a year in emotional limbo."

Pan shook her head slowly.  "Grandma, how can you take this all so calmly?  How can you sit there smiling when grandpa's drunk, Uncle Goten and Aunt Jita's dead, Jiten's gone, and the world may end?  Why are you even smiling?"

Chichi sighed, her face relaxing slightly.  "Pan, you haven't lived through some of the things that even your parents did.  Sometimes it's just best to live your life like Goku has in the past – moment by moment, and not worrying so much about the fight to come.  You'll worry yourself into an early grave… and you'll give yourself frown lines."  Chichi absently fingered the skin around her eyes, knowing she looked older than she really was.

Pan sighed and got up, walking down the hallway.  I know you mean well, Grandma, but that doesn't stop me from being scared.  From what I've see tonight, I think the world has already ended.

*****

Goku woke up tasting bile.  He almost expected to see an opponent walking slowly toward him – that he had blacked out in the middle of a fight.

When he opened his eyes, he wasn't disappointed.

"Chichi…?" he said with some difficulty, finding that his mouth had trouble forming the word.

Chichi crossed her arms and scowled, sitting back slightly in the chair next to the bed.  "Well, I see you're up… finally."

Goku winced at the words, both at the reprimand in the sharp tones as well as the daggers they drove in the side of his head.

"Wha-what?"

Chichi smiled.  "Maybe this will help your memory," she said, holding up a small flask.

Goku groaned and let his head hit the pillow, suddenly remembering everything.

Chichi laughed slightly.  "Don't worry.  I'll let you have your hangover.  And then, after plenty of coffee, I'm going to train you."

Goku looked up suddenly, and then wished he hadn't.  "Wha—  Chichi, how are you going to…"

Chichi laughed again, shaking her head.  She moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and Goku felt a cool cloth wiping the sweat from his face.  He closed his eyes in relief, yet he was still confused.

"I'm not going to train you in fighting, silly," Chichi said softly.  "That would just be stupid.  I'm going to teach you how to be depressed."

Goku still didn't understand, so decided not to answer her until she started making sense.

"Look," Chichi continued.  "You don't want to talk, or train, or even eat.  You know how to be the scary/pathetic depressed, but that's not how you get better.  Instead, you need a more effective depression.  And I'm going to teach you.  First, you start talking and complaining… a lot.  And then you go into manic moods of cleaning… or in your case it would be sparring.  You allow yourself a little cry time, a little anger time, and a little time listening to country or blues.  And then eventually you'll actually fess up to whatever's been bothering you, and you'll finally get over it.  Now, what could be simpler?"

"What could be simpler," Goku repeated dumbly after her, still clutching his head.  But he was thinking, She knows how to be depressed because of me.

Chichi nodded, convinced that he really understood what she was saying, and perhaps coming around.  "So," she continued, "you stay in the bed and moan for a little while, and when you feel like getting up, I've got breakfast made."

Chichi left the room, closing off the light from the hallway that was threatening to split Goku's eyes open.

She mentioned sparring.  She thinks that's going to make me feel better.  Doesn't she know that whenever I fight, people get hurt?  She should know that.

Goku tried to concentrate on getting the headache to go away.

I'll just play along with her.  It's always easier when I play along with her.

*****

Danton smacked the side of the dragon radar, trying to get a good location on the dragonball.  He was surprised at how little cajoling it had taken to get the radar away from Pan.  She wasn't as insistent as usual.

Probably because of the thing with her grandfather.

The Sons had tried to conceal it from everyone, but Danton had known right when he saw the eldest Son that Goku-san was lit.  He'd been to enough parties to be able to tell.

Legendary hero, huh?  Not from what I've seen.  There're all these big stories, but none of them even happened in my lifetime.  How could he be so great if he didn't even, like, kill the leech?  He's not even training, from what I hear!

Danton looked around at the others.  Perhaps he was just jealous of being so frickin' normal.  Saiyans and super-strong monks and freaky double-personality girls… oh my!  And here Danton was, a bit stronger than Joe Normal, but not up to even, say, Pecon and Darjili.

Danton knew all about the former heroes.  If Pecon compared himself with Krillen, Danton knew exactly who he would be: Yamcha.  Sure, he never had the former desert bandit thing going for him, but he figured that he would be just as useful in a fight.

Danton could picture himself, charging at the leech, and getting a hand right through the chest.  Never mind that all the other Spider Students would probably get that, too.

No, they wouldn't.  Just him.  They would all have the sense to just stay back, or the luck to simply get blown away by energy attacks, leaving the way clear for the real heroes.  He, on the other hand, would be the guy with the big bleeding chest wound that would have to have a senzu bean and then be told to stay behind when the action heated up.

And he hated being that guy.

"You're leading us back to the dojo!" Krianan shouted behind him.

Danton glared back at her.  "I'm going in the general direction of the dojo, since that's where the radar is pointing me.  That's not the same thing as just going back to the dojo."

Krianan glared right back at him.  "Fine, whatever."

Danton grinned.  Now, there was a girl he could actually relate to.  She wasn't the hero type.  She was more like him, the one with few super powers and likely to get into trouble.  She was the one who pretty much fouled up the whole bank robbery thing, even if she did get out of there with the dragonball.  She'd been taken down by a dart from an assassin who would fall over if a Saiyan sneezed at him.  She was like him, with something to prove and no chance of proving it because it probably wasn't there.

If only they didn't fight so much.

Danton looked around at the area nervously.  Sure enough, they were getting closer and closer to the dojo.  They were already heading toward the right city, and on the same side that the dojo happened to be.  He couldn't imagine if it really was at the dojo.  Surely they would have known before then.

Maybe Goten-sensei kept it in the house?  I mean, his dad kept up with some, so why not him?

Danton prayed that he wasn't screwing up in some way.  Like, holding the radar upside-down or something.  He'd made fun of Pan for doing the same thing.  But, no…  It was right-side-up.  Danton hit it again, just to be sure.  The dot was still there, and they were getting closer to it just as they were getting closer to the dojo.

"You know," Darjili commented, "we're going to feel really stupid if Jita-sensei had the thing in the house all the time."

"If it is, we're doomed," Pecon quipped.  "That place is a mess!  Not even a dragon radar would help us."

"Hey!" Darjili shouted.  "I'm the one doing the housekeeping now."

Pecon grinned at her.  "Don't you think I know that?"

Darjili tackled him in the air with a growl.  "I don't see you helping with clean-up!"

Pecon broke her grip and flew a little ways from her.  "I cook, okay?  Isn't that enough?"

"Guys…" Pan said slowly.  "I think we're idiots."

Sure enough, they were landing in the yard of the dojo.  There was no ki around except for a faint reading from the dragonball… in the dojo.

Danton shook his head.  "This can't be right.  We all would have noticed it before.  We know every inch of that place."

Darjili shrugged her shoulders.  "Well, nothing else to do but to go in and see.  Who knows?  It may be in Jita's desk or something."

The five approached the dark dojo.  Pecon unlocked it, and Danton led them into the building, watching the bleeping instrument the whole time.  They passed by Jita's office… and then the main rooms… and then the private gravity trainers… until they got to the main gravity trainer.  The radar centered around there.

"Impossible," Pecon said under his breath.

The five walked in, and Krianan flipped on the lights.  As usual, the floor was bare, except for a few spare weights and sundry pieces of clothing.  They ventured into the middle of the room… and then the room went dark.

Danton instantly threw up his defenses.  He felt the whooshing of air, so he dropped to the floor and pushed down his ki to make him seem unconscious, a trick he'd learned from Jita.  He heard the others fall around him, with grunts of pain and surprise.  He couldn't even hear the punches.

After a moment, all was silent.  Danton's mind remained blank, only focusing on the slow footsteps at it neared him.  He figured this was some foe after the dragon radar, or the dragonballs.  He didn't have the dragonballs, but whoever this person was certainly knew he had the radar.  Danton held his breath and kept his ki low, waiting patiently for the enemy to get near him.  He couldn't feel the enemy's ki, and he couldn't see in the total dark, but he kept alert to the sound.

When he felt the boot right beside his legs, he kicked out, effectively tripping the enemy up.  Danton only had a fraction of a second before the enemy could hope to regain his feet, so he used the time to throw himself on top of the prone figure.  He immobilized the man's legs with his own while he found the arms to hold behind the man's back.  This would keep the man down, intimidated, until Danton could find out who he was and what he wanted.

It would have worked perfectly, if it wasn't for the fact that the man below him was much stronger than he anticipated.

The figure bucked him off, turned around while Danton was still trying to get his bearings, and punched him into the wall across the room.  Danton groaned, finding it easier to just lay where he landed instead of trying to get up.

"That was pathetic," he heard a familiar voice say.

The lights flicked on as suddenly as they had flicked off.  Danton squinted in the sudden brightness to see all of the Spider students laying on the floor in pain… and Vegeta by the light switch, holding a dragonball.  Danton groaned, letting his head fall back.

Pan was the first to force herself up.  "So, is this payback or something?"

Vegeta smirked.  "You could call it that."

Darjili pulled herself into a sitting position, still wincing at the lingering pain in her hands.  "Well, you've made your point, then.  We're still no match for anyone."

Vegeta shook his head, still smirking.  "I could be telling you that you're all pathetically weak compared to me… and the enemy we'll be facing.  I'm right in saying that.  Only the boy holding his imprint in the wall had any sense about him in the fight, and he still underestimated an enemy he knew nothing about."

Danton looked up, surprised.  Vegeta had almost… complimented… him.  Of course, it was a compliment couched in both insult and reality, but still.  Danton forced himself up, realizing that he had been the only one to get an attack in on Vegeta.

"But that isn't what you wanted to tell us, was it?" Pecon asked.

Vegeta laughed and shook his head.  He wordlessly held up a newspaper.  The front page featured a picture of the rubble where a certain bank used to be.

"Now, which one of you pathetic humans blew up a bank?" he asked with a snicker.

Everyone looked sheepish, not expecting this turn of events.  Finally Darjili tentatively raised her hand.  "It was an accident?"

Vegeta laughed at that.  "Not that I'm blaming you.  I feel that a good explosion every now and then is therapeutic.  It's just that when the woman found out what was blown up and what was stolen, she felt somehow obligated to cover for you, and it's generally made the house a living hell lately.  Not to mention the incident on page 5… assault on a child, I believe?"

By this time everyone was in fits of silent laughter.  The final comment topped it off, and the five students were rolling.

Vegeta rolled his eyes.  "You'll think funny after I'm finished with you.  For now I will be taking over the Spider school, and you're all under my watch."

They collected themselves, knowing that retribution was at hand.

"So you're babysitting us, is that right?" Danton asked.  "Did Bulma-san put you up to it?"

Vegeta snorted.  "Do you think I only do anything because the woman orders me around?  Wrong.  I'm doing this mostly for Jita."

Everyone sobered instantly.  A tense feeling filled the air.

Vegeta noted the change with approval.  "Jita had hopes for you.  Whether I think they're ill-placed or not is not of concern.  I would not want her to ever chance to see you and be disappointed.  Keep that in mind as you're training."

The five looked at each other in silent agreement.  Danton was the first to stand forward, giving the dragon radar to Vegeta and heading for the locker room to change.  He heard the others acquiesce, but did not turn back to see them.

Danton was actually relieved for this mockery of a training exercise to be over.  After all, what had they learned anyway?

Review thanks:

Crazed fanatic anime fan:  Wow.  You read all the way from chapter 23?  That, like, includes all of my long chapters.  I thank you for the profuse praise.  Actually, you like the two characters that have given me the most trouble!  I guess that makes me concentrate on them more.  Anyway, thank you for your readership.

Dark Wolf:  Points for using the word splindifferous, by the way.  Anyway, I hope to have more time to update this summer, though I think I said that lost summer.  Haha.

Howler:  Hi, sweetie!  I'm glad you review my chapters now… when you get the time to read them.  Haha.  And you know me with keeping up with the plots.  I'm rather a perfectionist.  Love you!

Demonman21:  Another new reader… in the 41st chapter, even!  Yeah, I had to explain away that quarantine thing in order to prolong the angst, which I love so much.  I hope it doesn't come off as too contrived.  And I'm pretty sure that Jita is completely free from the Voice.  He was able to talk to Jita because he owned her soul.  Now he doesn't.

Homestar Runner:  Wow!  You have the same author page as tim333.  Anyway, this is Str… I mean, this is UnromanticPoetess.  I appreciate your review, and I have decided to let you join the Biggest Idiot in the World club.  I fact… (snicker)… I want to make you the frickin' president!  So send a one million word essay on why you're such an idiot to UnromanticPoetess, in care of Strong Bad, and then you'll be the president!  And don't post any of Strong Sad's depressing poetry in tim's account.  Although a fanfic with the Teen Girl Squad might be pretty cool.  That, and how cool Strong Bad is.  In fact, that's all that tim should write.  One long fic about how awesome Strong Bad is.  And no giving up in the middle either!  Then… you could write a sequel, and… The Cheat!  What are you doing?  I thought I told you to watch for when Poetess gets back!  What?  Umm… Well, until next time, keep sending me all your e-mails… I mean reviews…

(Seriously, tim, that had me cracking up in the middle of the computer lab.  I love the effort you put into it.  It made me smile.)

Poll:  No, there's not a reviewer named Poll.  I'm asking this of all my readers.  I agonized over taking Goku this far.  I realize that drinking is kind of cliché.  I hope it was understated enough.  Anyway, I just want to ask everyone if you thought it was believable.  Thanks.