a/n: the songs in this chapter are very clever and fun to hear. Find them from the Brobdingnagian Bards.

---

As the night drew in, so did many of the Gondorians into the great entrance halls. Veils of gossamer were hung in windows, draped into soft arches across the ceilings and wound about pillars. Fresh plants and flowers were set in large vases and great tables of food were set about.

The wedding had been a short affair. Only handfuls of those most important to the bride and groom were invited to attend. Piccolo had been one of those invited to the nuptials, but he chose to forgo it and was not chastised for it. Vegeta would have been more than happy to escape the ceremony, but Goku had drug him along nonetheless.

The reception was a different story altogether. The masses had dressed in their finest to attend. Couples wore matching themes or colors, those without wore what they would, and the joy of a marriage was more than enough to push out the remains of the war for one night.

Music was soft and lulling, a mix of human instruments and elfin voices. Arwen was sparkling beside her husband, and the ranger had never looked more content with the world.

Piccolo slipped in quietly, melding into the shadows and bypassing the crowds by walking behind the walls of curtains. The twins had jabbed him with a series of straight pins for nearly an hour until he told them they had better make do and tore the material off of his body.

He had heard them screaming and swearing in Quenya while he retreated down the hall, but somehow the two of them had managed to piece it back together and corner him before the wedding to proffer their creation.

As per their unrelenting request, he put the piece on and suffered their last minute tweaking and followed them to the reception. The robes themselves weren't too awful. In fact, the lengthy train at the back made him feel like he was wearing his cloak and he felt oddly at ease with it. It was fitted, unlike the tunic and usual gi he wore. The material was stiff but breathable; how the twins had managed to make him such a garment in such a short time was beyond his scope of imagination.

Vegeta was the first to spot him and the saiyajin grinned evilly and ground his elbow into Goku's side. The pair of them wore shifts of crimson bordered in charcoal stitching over matching black pants. There were differences in design so that they did not wear the same style, but it was clear to others that they were there as one with the other.

"Great Kami, Namek, who dressed you?"

"Shut up, Vegeta."

Goku elbowed the shorter saiyajin and gave him a scolding look. "You look great, Piccolo."

Piccolo raised one eye ridge with a sarcastic look on his face. Goku reassured him, but Piccolo wasn't listening. Too many people were turning to look at him; mostly because he was so very large that he stood head and nearly shoulders over everyone else in the hall. He was, however, relieved to see that everyone else was wearing chunks of solid color. One color tops, one color bottoms. The garment the elves had made for him was navy with strips of white down his sides as well as the cape behind him.

Bulma's laughter reached them before she managed to appear. She grinned up at Piccolo and tugged smartly on his shirt hem to straighten it. He slapped at her hands but she had already let go and backed away. "Don't you all look smart!"

"Thanks, Bulma," Goku beamed, slinging an arm over Vegeta's shoulders.

"They're going to start the dancing soon," She tittered excitedly. "I expect it will be like ballroom dancing or something like that."

The males around her looked at each other awkwardly and nodded unenthusiastically at the raving woman.

To the surprise of most of the elves present--as well as the saiyajins and Piccolo--Lord Elrond came around to fetch Bulma, dressed in identical colors of jade. "If you would come with me, Lady Bulma, we will lead the others."

Bulma giggled and took his offered hand, giving those she left behind a thumbs up before hurrying along after the elf.

"If you think I'm going to dance with you, you are sadly mistaken," Vegeta grumbled, sidestepping away from Goku.

"Come on, 'Geta, I'm a good dancer!" Goku promised with a grin.

Vegeta arched an eyebrow and snorted, "With your coordination?"

"Hey, I'm a good fighter, I have to have good coordination for that don't I?"

"Yes," Vegeta grudgingly admitted. "But dancing is not fighting," he added hurriedly.

"I promise not to step on your toes..." Goku pleaded.

"No."

"Come on, 'Geta, just once."

"No."

Piccolo watched the two of them with detached amusement. They had a bit of a stare down moments later and Vegeta was the first to look away as a blush heated his face.

"Very well." He spat, crossing his arms over his chest.

Goku grinned evilly, "Great."

"I don't dare to think about what you bribed him with." Mirai Trunks spoke as he walked up behind them. On either side of him were Elrond's twin sons. All three of them wore similar colors; and were undoubtedly attracting a lot of attention.

Vegeta let out an aggravated grumble and Goku laughed.

"You look fetching, doesn't he look fetching?" Elladan asked his brother innocently, motioning toward Piccolo with the hand that wasn't tucked neatly in the crook of Trunks' elbow.

"He does," Elrohir nodded his head approvingly. "Why, I would be surprised to think anyone could match him with such a wondrous outfit."

Piccolo looked at each of them suspiciously.

"You do look nice, Piccolo," Trunks said sincerely. He did not know that the twins had been part of it.

"Thank you," Piccolo grumbled. He crossed his arms over his chest and walked toward a far pillar, content to hold it up for the night if everyone would leave him alone.

Within the next several minutes, candles were lit and scattered and the music changed subtly until it became a light waltz. Aragorn and Arwen were given plenty of room by the onlookers and after a few moments, Elrond and Bulma soon joined. Shortly after, Trunks with Elrohir while Elladan stood back pouting.

It was a long five minutes more until Piccolo felt eyes boring into him. He looked around and saw no one. Agitated, he looked harder and nearly jumped out of his skin when someone tugged on his pant leg. He sighed heavily to see Merry and Pippin at his feet. The two of them were dressed nicely in fresh, crisp white tunics.

"You look quite lovely," Pippin giggled up at him, laughing harder as Piccolo scowled at him.

"What do the two of you want?" Piccolo asked with a little more bite than he intended.

"Would you mind helping us with a scheme?" Merry asked with a twinkle of mischief in his eye.

"What are you planning," Piccolo squatted to their level, his face the mask of a mentor who would easily chastise before helping.

"Nothing bad," Pippin said quickly.

"He means, nothing too bad," Merry added with a grin.

"You aren't going to ruin the dancing are you? I think this is part of the ritual," Piccolo frowned in thought. Even if he wasn't enjoying himself didn't mean he was going to ruin the happiness of Aragorn and his new bride.

"Oh, heaven's no!" Merry promised. He leaned forward and stage whispered, "It's after this particular dance, you see."

"Why do you need my help?"

"We can't get up on the stage, we're too short," Merry said with a straight face.

Pippin nodded vigorously. "And we've tried," he added helpfully.

"How bad, is bad?" Piccolo asked, getting curious.

"Oh, nothing wholly awful. But it is Hobbit custom to sing and tell a horribly embarrassing story on the day of a wedding." Pippin grinned, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"I don't know," Piccolo stood upright and looked out over the crowd of people.

"Well fine!" Came an incredulous cry at his feet. "We'll get up there ourselves then." Merry harrumphed and stalked off with Pippin in tow.

He thought about warning someone that the two Hobbits were scheming, but it was almost too late to bother. By the time he stepped away from the pillar and began to track down Elrond there was a murmur of confusion and he saw the two trouble-makers on the stage.

"Good evening everyone," Pippin called out cheerily as the music stuttered to a halt. There was a bit of tittering in the crowd and Piccolo saw Aragorn and Arwen walk to the stage only Frodo and Sam cut in front of them. The ranger bent and listened for a moment before standing with a shake of his shaggy head and motioning for the Hobbits to continue.

Heartened, Merry stepped forward and winked down at his cousins. "We apologize for stopping your dancing, but there is plenty of time for that! For, Peregrin Took and I--"

"Meriadoc Brandybuck," Pippin cut in helpfully.

"are here to bless this occasion as Hobbits do. With a bit of laughter and ale!" At the last word, A nearby elf--who looked suspiciously like Elladan--set a tankard down before the two of them. Each Hobbit filled a glass and took a heavy drink before grinning back out at the crowd.

"To start we have a song for you and everyone should have a mug of drink!" Pippin cried with a great laugh.

Many men laughed with him and greedily took up their mugs. Gimli hobbled to the front of the crowd and stood with a smirk and took his drink from the Hobbit's tankard.

"If you know the words, feel free to sing along, it is a Hobbit tradition!" And Merry started to sing, soon joined by Pippin.

"I'll tell you a story that happened to me

one day as I went down to Yore by the sea.

The sun it was bright and the day it was warm,

Says I, 'a quiet pint wouldn't do me no harm.'

I went in and I called for a bottle of stout;

says the barman, 'I'm sorry, all the beer is sold out.

Try whisky or paddy, ten years in the wood.'

Says I, 'I'll try cider, I've heard that it's good!'

Oh never, oh never, oh never again

if I live to a hundred or a hundred and ten.

I fell to the ground and I couldn't get up

after drinking a quart of that Johnny Jump Up."

Roars of laughter echoed in the hall and Aragorn shook his head in fake regret. As the two Hobbits continued, their voices were joined by those of Sam and Frodo, though the voice of the latter was weaker than the others.

"After downing the third I went out in the yard

where I bumped into Brody, the big civic guard.

'Come here to me boy, don't you know I'm the law?'

Well, I up with me fist and I shattered his jaw!"

A great cry went up in the hall as men cheered and sloshed ale; and somewhere behind the Hobbits, a drummer began to keep time.

"He fell to the ground with his knees doubled up.

But it wasn't I hit him, 'twas Johnny Jump Up.

And the next thing I met down in Yore by the sea,

Was a cripple on crutches and says he to me,

'I'm afraid for me life I'll be hit by a car

Won't you help me on down to the Railwayman's Bar?'

After drowning a pint of that cider so sweet,

he threw down his crutches and danced on his feet.

I went up the lee road, a friend for to see.

They call it the madhouse in Cork by the lee;

and when I got there, sure the truth I will tell,

They had the poor bugger locked up in a cell.

Said the guard, testing him, 'Say these words if you can,

around the rugged rocks the ragged rascal ran.'

Tell him I'm not crazy, tell him I'm not mad!

It was only a sip of that bottle I had."

By now, the stomping of feet to keep time kept the court hall thumping and the women allowed themselves to laugh aloud with their men. Pippin held up a small hand and choked down a giggle to finish the song as he raised his tankard in the other.

"Well a man died in the mines by the name of McNabb,

They washed him and laid him outside on the slab,

and after the coroners measurements did take,

his wife took him home to a bloody fine wake.

Twas about 12 o'clock and the beer it was high

and the corpse he sits up and says with a sigh,

'I can't get to heaven, they won't let me up

'til I bring them a quart of that Johnny Jump up.

Oh never, oh never, oh never again

If I live to a hundred or a hundred and ten

I fell to the ground and I couldn't get up

after drinking a quart of that Johnny Jump Up!"

Laughter lasted long and hard in the hall and both Hobbits bowed deeply to the applause and cheers from the gathered. Both Hobbits were grinning and dribbling drink down their chins, one arm about the other as they took in the attention like dry sponges.

Puffing, Frodo soon joined beside them, his face flushed a little and he patted them both on the back. Slowly the noise died down as they stood in wait of what the little ones would do next. Frodo conversed quietly with his cousins for a moment then stepped forward as they stepped sideways to make room for him at the front.

"It isn't always laughs to be had," Frodo started, his voice rough and throat dry. Samwise appeared beside him with a mug of water and the other took it with a nod of thanks. "So we can stop this madness and let Strider and the Lady Arwen celebrate as they should, I've gotten the word of my cousins that one more song is enough."

A great roar of approval came from the surrounding audience and Frodo held up his small hands. "The war we fought isn't so easily forgotten, and I don't mention it to bring down our spirits, but I think it would be fitting for me to finish this 'Hobbit festivity' with a song we sing at both weddings and funerals. To honor the beginnings and the ends."

A murmur of assent went through the crowd and ale mugs were set down and forgotten as the soberness of the mood settled in.

Frodo cleared his throat and looked down at the ranger and bowed his head to them. "I'm not much of a singer," he tittered in nervousness before he cleared his throat again and started to sing. It didn't matter that his voice was low from his illness, it was heard clear to the back.

"Kind friends and companions, come join me in rhyme

come and lift up your voices in chorus with mine.

Let us drink and be merry, all grief to refrain

for we may and might never all meet here again."

As the soft strains of the first stanza went, the other Hobbits carefully chorused their voices with Frodo's, wary not to drown him out.

"Here's a health to the company and one to my lass

let us drink and be merry all out of one glass.

Let us drink and be merry, all grief to refrain,

for we may and might never all meet here again.

Here's a health to the wee lass that I love so well

for style and for beauty, sure none can excel.

There's a smile on her countenance as she sits on my knee

sure there's no one in this wide world as happy as we.

Our ship lies at harbor, it's ready to dock.

I wish it safe landing without any shock.

And if ever I should meet you by land or by sea,

I will always remember your kindness to me.

Here's a health to the company and one to my lass

let us drink and be merry all out of one glass.

Let us drink and be merry, all grief to refrain,

for we may and might never all meet here again."

Frodo's scratchy voice faded out and he raised his glass to everyone and drank greedily from the water within. A murmur ran through the crowd and slowly everyone raised their glasses as well and drank deeply.

Aragorn helped the Hobbit down from his perch and hugged him a moment with a sad smile. "Thank you, Frodo Baggins."

"You're welcome, Strider."

When the remaining Hobbits were lowered, the rest of the band and singing elves floated back to the stage and began to start playing again.

The Hobbits were greeted quite happily by the many people as they passed. Frodo was looking a bit piqued by the many pats on the back and vigorous shaking of hands. Piccolo swooped into a huddle of people and cleared his throat. Most of them backed away with wary looks while the Namek bent down and plucked the Hobbit neatly from them.

"Come on, kid."

As he walked away with the young Hobbit clinging to his neck, Frodo yawned and muttered, "Thank you."

Piccolo walked him back to the infirmary and lay him on his bed, snapping open a blanket and draping it across the boy's form. Frodo was asleep long before the blanket touched him.

He returned to the dancing hall--though he didn't know why since he had a good excuse to leave and not return. Goku had indeed gotten Vegeta out onto the floor and both of them were looking very focused on not tripping over each others toes to notice the odd looks they were getting from those around them.

Trunks was getting his fair share of funny glances as he tried to waltz about with an elf in each arm. Apparently the twins had gotten tired of watching the other having fun and ambushed him.

"Poor fool," Piccolo grinned to himself.

"Do you mean the young saiyajin prince or the older?"

Piccolo schooled his features and kept looking ahead. "Both."

Legolas let out a half sigh, "It is not so bad as it seems. At least they have someone to hold on to."

Try as he might not to look at the elf, Piccolo still found himself glancing down. He stopped the groan that would have come out and glared back out at the twin elves in Mirai's arms. The blonde elf beside him was wearing a very similar outfit, without the cape, and with the colors inverted. He wore a crisp white with navy side ties; but the style was exactly the same.

"You have been prey to the Perehnil, haven't you?" Legolas laughed softly and looked up at him. "Either that, or you are a quick tailor. By the look on your face, you have been had."

"They told me dress robes were important," Piccolo explained gruffly.

"They are. But we match a little too closely for coincidence." Legolas smiled wistfully. The smile fell from his face a moment later and a stony mask fell back into place. "But that hardly matters. You are leaving in a few hours time anyway."

"So it would seem," Piccolo growled.

"You have nothing to say to me," Legolas snapped, glaring up at him.

"No," Piccolo hissed. "Though I'm sure you're going to spout something prophetic and stalk off in a self-righteous huff."

The elf blanched and clenched his jaw, stalking off into the crowd. Piccolo glared after him, his insides boiling and he felt like he would vomit.

Across the floor, the twins of Elrond groaned unhappily to each other and made their excuses to Trunks.

Elladan trailed quickly after Piccolo as the Namek stormed from the hall, most likely bound for his chambers.

"Wait!" The elf ran, trying to catch up. Piccolo only sped up further. "Namek, hold, I said!"

"I'm not your servant," Piccolo growled, jerking out of the elf's reach.

"Just listen to me, please," Elladan finally snagged a handful of cape. Piccolo kept walking and slowly the stitching began to tear until the elf was left holding a dissected chunk of white cloth. "At least explain it to me," he pleaded to Piccolo's back.

The Namek stopped and turned harshly on his toes. He stalked forward and grabbed Elladan by the front of his robes, hauling him into a nook in the hallway and hissing down at his face. "What makes you think you have a right to know anything? You don't know me."

"No," Elladan said sharply, "But Legolas is my friend and I have a right to know why you want to hurt him."

"Who said I wanted to?" Piccolo growled, sharp eyes scanning the hallway to make sure it stayed clear.

"Then why do you keep purposely pushing him away?" Elladan shook himself free and smoothed down his chest.

"Because it doesn't belong," Piccolo hissed, fists clenching and unclenching.

"What doesn't belong?" The elf asked softly, truly curious.

"I don't." Piccolo said flatly. "I was never meant to be here, this was never meant to happen."

"But you were happy," Elladan said carefully, "both of you."

"That was a mistake too."

"How can you be so sure?" The elf demanded.

"It's not how it's supposed to be! Don't ask me why, that's just how it is." Piccolo growled and spun out of the nook. He began his trek back to his rooms and growled as Elladan tugged at his tunic again.

"So you alone? He alone? Both of you unhappy, that's how it is supposed to be?" Elladan was exasperated.

"Yes!" Piccolo's voice echoed down the length of the hall. He quieted and fixed the youngest son of Elrond with a hard stare. "At least, it is for me."

Elladan watched him walk farther away and did not follow. Instead he called down the hall, "So you leave because you want to be alone?"

Piccolo drew up short and spoke without looking back. "No."

"Then why!"

"Because it is what I am." Piccolo started to walk again and did not stop.

"What is? Being alone? Being lonely? Being unloved?" Elladan called after him, but the Namek did not stop and soon disappeared around the corner.

Elladan made his sad way back to the great hall alone.

In a crook in an adjacent hall, Elrohir removed his hand from Legolas' mouth and watched his friend sadly. When he had tackled Legolas into the private space, he nearly had to throttle him to get him to listen to what he wanted. Before he had the chance to explain, his brother and the Namek had come and he settled for what came to hand.

They had stood in the darkness, he keeping Legolas still and mute, and both of them had listened to the depressing words from the other hall. With each melancholy reply, Elrohir felt his friend sag a little.

"Are you alright, melanin?" He asked softly.

Legolas nodded jerkily.

"He loves you still," Elrohir soothed. "I think he just does not know how to be loved in return."

The corner was very quiet. Legolas did not respond and Elrohir pressed a kiss to his friend's forehead. "Go to bed, it will be clearer in the daylight."

Legolas nodded numbly and walked away.

---

At the crack of dawn the Ningen earth's creatures stood in a half circle around Bulma's time machine. The gaudy thing was set in the center of the town square. Those members of the Fellowship had gathered to see them off.

The only person missing was Legolas. The elf had made no appearance, no body made his condolences and--when Piccolo checked earlier to see if he was on his way--the elf's ki was still high up in the citadel.

Mirai Trunks came from inside the florescent pink bubble and gave his mother a thumbs up, "It's all set."

Bulma's eyes swam in tears and she latched onto him, hugging him tightly and petting his long lilac hair. "If you ever want to see us, all you have to do is pop home, okay? You'll always be welcome."

Between the sniffs and sobs Trunks managed to thank her and mumbled little words of encouragement.

Gimli and the Hobbits were making their way down the stairs, all huddled around Frodo who refused to be helped. As soon as they managed it to the square, Merry and Pippin bounded ahead to chatter away at their leaving friends, leaving Sam to tend to Frodo.

"Mr. Piccolo," cried Pippin, launching at the Namek's knees. He hugged the large alien's thigh and grinned up at him. "It has been an honor to know a creature as large--"

"And green," Merry cut in with a grin.

"And green," Pippin added, "as you. I only wish you could make it to the Shire. They'll never believe us."

Piccolo looked down on them with a tight smirk and ruffled the curls on either of their heads. "With the tales you tell? It's a wonder."

"Come now," Merry said in his defense, "they're only a tweaked a little."

"Yes, like the story about when Merry got lost in a burr patch. We were plucking prickly pears from his --mmmphmmm," Pippin giggled behind Merry's hand and swatted at him.

Young Brandybuck grinned with a blush, "Pay him no attention, he's only making things up."

"I am not!" Pippin argued, and soon both Hobbits were grappling on the ground, rolling over each other on the cobbled walkway.

Frodo puffed up to Piccolo's side and smiled at their antics. "Take care, Piccolo."

"You too, Frodo," The Namek smiled at him. He couldn't see Gohan's face on the Hobbit's anymore, it was all Baggins.

Goku was taking hugs from the Hobbits next while Vegeta snorted and refused to be manhandled--by anyone other than Goku at any rate.

Gandalf and Aragorn went around to each of them, giving heartfelt thanks and gratitude for the help they gave. A small diskette engraved with the Gondor seal was handed to each of them in turn. "A measly, trifle of a token to show you our appreciation," Aragorn explained.

"Thanks," Goku beamed, examining his with a keen eye and stuffing it into his pocket. Vegeta grunted and pocketed his without bothering to look at it.

Piccolo's, oddly enough, was the only one strung on a chain. He puzzled at it and took it in his large hands.

"I remember you telling me that you had no real place to call home," Aragorn said softly. "I wanted to make sure you remembered us, even if you don't have a hearth to put that upon."

"Thank you," Piccolo was still confused but slipped the chain over his head at the expectant look he was getting from Aragorn and Gandalf. The silver disk settled just below his collarbone.

Gandalf paused as Aragorn moved away and took something from the inside of his robes. "Here," and he passed the sensu bean bag to him. "When you left it, I knew whatever had been inside was important. So I've taken the liberty of placing something inside it. If ever you feel the need to remember how well you are loved here, only look inside. What is there is meant only for you."

Piccolo began to open the bag to see what it was the aged wizard was blathering on about, but Gandalf stopped him.

"Only when you are on your earth again. If the time passes and you feel you don't need to see what is inside, then burn it."

The cryptic message was annoying beyond belief but Piccolo grunted and stuffed it unhappily into his pocket.

"Come on guys, we're ready to go," Bulma called from inside the capsule machine. She turned a watery smile to Elrond who had stood at the outskirts of the friends. The elf returned it and raised a hand to her.

"So how do we do this?" Vegeta asked. They weren't all going to fit inside, but if Bulma had fixed the broken pieces, the shielding should only move the machine.

"Don't worry, it's been calibrated. All you have to do it be touching it. When I get home, I can sharpen the focus so it's only the machine and whoever is inside."

Vegeta gave her a raised eyebrow and the woman huffed, "Just touch the damned machine, Vegeta!"

"Fine, onna!" The saiyajin prince spat and slammed his hand onto it, denting the metal slightly.

"Damn it, Vegeta!" Bulma shrieked.

Goku got between the two of them and tried to keep them from killing each other.

Piccolo shook his head and took his last steps toward the machine. Mirai waved to him, and the twins were both giving him pitious looks. The Namek was glad he was leaving. After the emotional outburst last night, he certainly didn't feel like facing them again.

Tentatively, Piccolo flattened his palm against the cool metal of the machine and looked out at the faces that were the most important to them all over the last few months. The Hobbits were clutching each other, singing a silly song and waving melodramatically; Gimli beside them with his pipe in his teeth. Mirai and his elves were smiling sadly, flanked by Elrond and Glorfindel. Aragorn and Arwen were arm in arm, watching in silence.

"Are you guys ready?" Bulma called from behind the glass. They all nodded and she let out a slow breath. "In five..."

Behind the group of onlookers, high up the steps a blur of movement caught Piccolo's attention.

"Four..."

As the figure rounded the next flight, the streak of platinum hair flying out behind left no doubt that it was Legolas running at full tilt to the central square.

"Three..."

His heart tightened painfully as he saw the elf barreling. Legolas had rounded the final flight and was coming down the long stretch of cobbled road. Even at the distance Piccolo could see his crystalline eyes widened in panic.

"Two..."

By now, the others had noticed and Piccolo could barely hear the shouting of their voices over the high-pitched whine of the engines next to his head. Legolas was slowing, but had no intentions it seemed to stop with those gathered to watch. He tried to push past them.

"One..."

Piccolo caught the elf's eye just as he managed to push through to the front. One pale arm stretched as far as it could. Before the Namek could reach out with his own, a crackle of lightening bubbled around them. He saw, more than heard, Legolas scream out 'no' before the whole of middle earth blanked out.

---

The first thing to happen upon their return was the incredulous look from Trunks. He pointed at his mother--still in her elfin dress-- then his father still in a tunic and leggings, before falling to his posterior on the ground.

"You just left," he mumbled, face scrunched in confusion.

"Oh, Trunks!" Bulma launched herself at him and held him tightly, squeezing until the young demi began to turn blue. She finally dropped him, but didn't let him out of her grasp. "I've missed you so much! How are you?"

"Mom..."

"How is your sister?"

"Mom."

"Did you clean your room like I asked?"

"Mom!" Trunks yelled, waving a hand in front of her face. Bulma finally stopped speaking and looked down at him expectantly. "You have been gone for twenty minutes, of course I'm alright." He looked sideways and spoke quickly out of the side of his mouth, "And no I didn't clean my room."

"Twenty minutes?" Bulma breathed, blinking in surprise. She suddenly latched onto Trunks and shook him. "What do you mean you haven't cleaned your room? I told you to three days ago! You promised you'd do it today! You march upstairs and get to it young man!"

"But Mom, you just got back from some cool adventure! I want to hear about it!"

"March!" Bulma pointed viciously toward the house.

"Oh, man..." Trunks whined, stomping his way back into Capsule Corps.

Bulma turned back to the others. "Only twenty minutes."

"How did we manage that? We must have spent months there..." Goku scratched at his head, thoroughly confused.

"Mirai said he was going to set the machine. He must have put it back to when he thought we would have left. At least then we wouldn't lose so much time here." Bulma smiled sadly. "He's such a clever boy."

"Come on, Kakkarot, just because you've been on vacation doesn't mean you can slack off any longer. We're going to train." Vegeta began to march off toward the gravity machine, but Goku stayed standing on the spot. Vegeta stopped and glanced back over his shoulder, "Kakkarot?"

"I-I can't 'Geta." Goku said softly. His large brown eyes turned sadly down on his mate. "I'm supposed to take ChiChi to a doctor's appointment in an hour."

"The woman?"

"She's still my wife, Vegeta." Goku tried to explain, but Vegeta had already turned viciously on his heel and began to walk away. "Vegeta, wait!"

"Go on, Kakkarot! Run to your woman, she needs you," Vegeta hissed, blasting off into the air and locking himself into his Gravity Chamber moments later.

Goku stared off after him, his shoulders sagging. Vegeta... He tried to reach him mentally, but a painful, heart-wrenching ache came across the bond before Vegeta shut his mind.

The large saiyajin felt his head pound and his own heart squeeze painfully in his chest. He set his face in stone and turned to the others. "Fine. I'm going to get ChiChi. I'll see you all later." He took three steps before turning back, "If you see Vegeta, tell him... tell him goodbye for me."

Piccolo and Bulma watched as Goku blasted into the air, disappearing within seconds.

"Oh no," Bulma put a hand to her mouth. "This is going to be so hard." She turned teary eyes to Piccolo. The Namek grunted in response. "How are we supposed to explain that we lived for so long somewhere else, when the only people that knew we were missing were Trunks and Goten?"

"I don't know." Piccolo rumbled. He was trying to control his breathing. The air here in the city seemed more foul than ever before.

"Piccolo," Bulma said hesitantly. "I saw Legolas coming for you... Are you alright?"

Piccolo sucked in a sharp breath and took two long strides, "I'm going to see Dende."

Bulma nodded numbly as she watched him go too. It was going to be so much harder to go back to their routines than she ever imagined.