Revelations
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Disclaimer: Dragon Ball Z is not mine, never has been, and never will be.
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The next few days – after buying a pregnancy test and watching the stick turn blue – were spent telling all their friends and family.
Chi-Chi had burst into tears, and hugged them both to her so tight that they'd struggled to breathe. Then she'd bustled about making some cookies, refusing to let Videl lift a finger, every so often bursting out into happy little sobs.
Goku had taken it with his usual wide-eyed wonder.
"Wow, I'm a grandfather?"
He'd put his hands on Videl's stomach to sense the life inside.
"It's small now," he said. "Give me another couple of weeks and I'll be able to tell if it's boy or girl."
Twelve year old Goten was singularly unimpressed by it all. He liked the cookies, though.
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Bulma was delighted for her. Vegeta had shrugged and said;
"Another brat?"
And although she'd smacked Oolong for saying as much, Videl found herself keeping her mouth shut, not retaliating with her usual ire.
Bulma, thankfully, had done it for her.
"Vegeta, you jerk!" She screeched. "If you act like this when I get pregnant, just you see who'll be sleeping on the couch!"
Amusing as it was to watch Vegeta smirk and Bulma fume, Videl felt profoundly disturbed by the visit. Perhaps it was the sudden compunction to stand at attention, or bow before leaving Vegeta's presence.
Thankfully, she'd managed to keep herself from doing any of it. She'd kept herself firmly seated, both hands wrapped around the teacup, her lips shut with the effort not to add any insults – or, Kami help her, honorifics – that her subconscious might throw up.
She'd been so quiet, Gohan was worried about her and asked her afterwards if she wanted to go home.
"No," she said. "We've just got one more stop, don't we? Piccollo's."
Usually she maintained a healthy distance from the Namek. It wasn't that she was afraid – fear, her ass! It was prudence that kept her a healthy distance from the Devil-King.
But it also occurred to her that the Devil-King had once also been God, and knew certain things that mortals (no matter how powerful) might not…
xxxXxxx
Piccollo was meditating in the courtyard, floating several feet above the ground, legs crossed in the lotus position.
"Hello, Gohan," he said without opening his eyes. "I see you brought your woman along."
Videl was used to Piccollo's dismissal of her – it didn't mean she liked it.
"Well, this woman," she said sarcastically, folding her arms. "Happens to be the bearer of good news."
She looked at Gohan.
"May I tell him, sweetie?"
At Gohan's nod, she turned back to Piccollo and announced with relish;
"We're having a baby."
Piccollo finally opened his eyes. He regarded them both for a long moment, and Videl couldn't read his expression.
"Another saiyan brat," he said at last. "I suppose it was inevitable."
"Aw, come on, Picollo," Gohan said. "You can do better than that."
Against his worser nature, the Devil-King smiled grudgingly at Gohan.
"Fine. Congratulations. You'll have another warrior in the family if you don't let that harpy soften him up first."
Videl bristled until she realized that Chi-Chi was the harpy, not her. She didn't know why Gohan allowed Piccollo to insult his mother like that, but then he let Piccollo get away with a lot of stuff. Insulting his father, his species, his vocation… even his wife on occasion.
The thought aggravated her temper, and she cleared her throat before she could do something like yell at them both.
"Piccollo, do you mind if I get a drink of water?" She asked. "I'm a little thirsty from the flight over."
"It's a free country."
Videl bared her teeth in what could have been mistaken for a smile, and turned to Gohan.
"Gohan, honey?" She said sweetly. "Would you mind…"
"Of course."
He darted into the kitchen. Or what passed for a kitchen. Videl had been here before, and all Piccollo kept were some drinking glasses. Namek didn't eat, so he had no use for the appliances that most humans were reliant on.
Alone at last, Videl turned to the Namek and dropped the sugar-sweet tones for more business-like ones.
"Piccollo, I need to ask you something."
He turned to glare in her direction. She refused to be intimidated.
"Something about…reincarnation?"
Her voice petered out towards the end. Not out of fear, but because she'd remembered how ridiculous this all sounded.
Piccollo gazed at her a moment longer, then turned his head and yelled;
"Gohan!"
Her husband poked his head out of the kitchen.
"I need to speak to your wife alone. Get lost for half an hour."
Gohan looked puzzled, but not worried.
"About what?"
"The secrets of childbirth," Piccoloo said dryly. "Now beat it."
Gohan shrugged and grinned.
"I'll be fishing.Yell if you need me."
He vanished out the door.
Piccollo turned back to Videl. Now that it was just the two of them, she could read a wariness in his posture. He wasn't certain of her. That in itself was…
…interesting.
Piccollo was never uncertain. Full stop. Videl was very confident in her own abilities, but even she had trouble believing that a weak human could in any way intimidate the Namek warrior. So what was it about her that he regarded as threatening?
The thoughts felt oddly alien. Detached. They felt like they came to her echoing across a great emptiness, floating like bubbles to the surface of water. She was never that calculating. Angry, yes. Cruel on occasion. But never this cold, deliberate analysis.
"How much do you know?" Piccollo asked bluntly.
Videl gazed back at him steadily, not wanting to part with any information before he did.
"How much do you know, Namek?"
The word slipped without thought from her lips. Piccollo cursed under his breath. He grabbed her by the back of her shirt and lifted her off her feet. She suddenly knew how annoyed must cats be, being carted about by the scruff of the neck.
His clawed fingers pinched her chin as he stared into her eyes. She glared back dangerously. If he didn't have knowledge she desperately wanted, she'd be breaking his nose right about now – well giving it a damn good try anyhow.
Whatever, he was searching for, he didn't like what he found. His jaw clenched, and he dropped her as one would something rather distasteful.
"I warned that old fool this could happen," he muttered. "But would he listen to me? Oh no, he goes on about inputs and outputs, and sustainable growth…."
Videl wasn't hurt, as she'd landed on her feet like a cat, and it took a lot to dent her admittedly substantial ego.
"You knew me?" She said, hardly believing her good luck.
He shot her a dark look.
"Not personally," he said. "Good thing too – it wouldn't have ended well."
He flexed his hands as if imagining her neck snapping between them. She ignored his threats, too focused on the knowledge held tantalizingly out of reach.
"But you just said you knew me."
"I knew of several saiyans assigned for re-birth on earth. Doesn't mean I knew each and every one of them personally."
She stared at something beyond him, eyes glazed.
"I was a saiyan," she breathed. "I was right."
"Don't be too happy," he snapped. "In fact, don't get happy it all. It's not something to be proud of."
Videl had never claimed to have the most peaceful of temperaments. When her species – even former species – was insulted she considered it only right that she defend them.
"Gohan's a saiyan," she said sharply. "And you don't hold it against him."
"He didn't participate in planet-wide genocides."
A muscle ticked in her jaw.
"Well I didn't either!"
Picollo was silent for a long moment, regarding her with something like amusement.
"You don't remember, do you?"
When she refused to answer, he continued in a somewhat gentler vein.
"Some things are best forgotten, saiyan. You have a new chance at life. Don't waste it on a race that's dead and gone."
Her head snapped up, and she glared hostiley at him.
"My race is here."
She laid her hand over her belly, felt the faint ki signature deep within. She might not be saiyan, but her children would be. They wouldn't grow up in the ignorance their father had. Oh no. She'd teach them everything she knew about saiyan culture…just as soon as she remembered it, that is.
Picollo was now regarding her with the same considering look. With a chill, she recognised that look – though she wasn't entirely sure where she knew it from. It was the look of a person deciding whether or not to tuck an annoyance into a discreet grave.
She watched him warily, muscles tensed for flight and ready to yell for Gohan at a moment's notice. She might not stand a chance against Piccollo, but her husband could squash him like a bug.
Finally Piccollo looked away with a sigh.
"I blame this on Yemma," he said flatly. "You should never have been resserected so soon. You should have stayed in Hell for at least another century." He shrugged philosophically. "But that's what you get for cutting corners…"
"I was in Hell?" Videl said in a small voice.
Piccollo rolled his eyes.
"Where else would a saiyan go?" He said, tone suggesting she was an idiot.
She reeled, too shocked to respond to the insult.
"But why would I go to Hell? What did I do?"
Piccollo shrugged.
"Like I said. Murder, maim, genoicide. The usual."
She latched onto that uncertainty.
"So you don't know for certain?"
"I don't need to. It's what saiyans did."
His voice was matter-of-fact. She shook her head, refusing to believe it. She'd heard Gohan's stories of saiyans spreading death and destruction, but surely they'd been exaggerated. And not all of them could have participated, surely.
I wouldn't…I couldn't have…
"There has to be a way to know for sure," she said. She eyed him speculatively. "What if I went the Otherworld and asked?"
"And how exactly do you propose to get there – aside from the obvious, I mean."
"You used to be Kami. You could take me there."
He folded his arms and did his best 'loom.'
"Firstly," he said. "I like you about as much as I like Vegeta. I'm not doing you any favours – I don't care whose wife you are. Secondly, even if I took you there, do you have any idea of the kind of paperwork you'd have to go through to get an answer to a question like that?"
"Paperwork?"
Her idea of the Otherworld had just undergone a drastic upheaval. He snorted in amusement at her expression.
"The Otherworld isn't Heaven, little girl. You'll find beurocracy is not just a human failing. "
"So you will could take me there?"
"No."
Well, it had been worth a shot.
"Fine then. I'll find a way myself."
They glared at one another, neither willing to back down. She knew as well as he did that any other way she found was bound to be extremely dangerous. And although she was the reincarnated member of a race that he despised, she was still Gohan's wife and the mother of his child.
At least a minute passed before Piccollo snarled in defeat and snapped;
"Go talk to Goku."
Videl's triumph lasted only for a moment before the implications of that advice sunk in.
"What?" She had never squeaked before, but she managed it now.
"Goku," Picallo repeated, looked irritated. "He has instant transmission. He'll be able to take you to the Other Dimension in a moment. And King Yemma likes him, so you'll be able to jump the cue."
"But…"
He raised an eyebrow at her as she stuttered.
"Don't tell me you're afraid of Goku," he said disgustedly.
"I am –" saiyan "– the daughter of Hercule. I fear nothing!"
It would have been more impressive had she not added in a small voice;
"He just… gets this look on his face...and…"
Piccallo sighed.
"Girl, think about it. You just tried to pick a fight with the Devil-King. Talking to your father-in-law should be a piece of cake."
Well, when he put it like that…