Son Chai was on her 24th shot of whiskey… or was it 25th?

Either way it took 20-something shots of a smokey, butterscotch liquor to calm the woman's nerves, peering over her glass across the Capsule Corp lawn. Drinking wasn't something she was shy about, and as far as Saiyajin's went, Chai could handle her liquor. Truth be told, she could use a break from the Ox Kingdom. She just wished Bulma had been more upfront about who they were welcoming home.

Would I have come then?

Her inner saiyajin purred in response. Of course she would have.

Bulma had contacted Chai the day before, mentioning a party that everyone would be at.

"It won't be as big as my birthday had been, but everyone will be there. And we really don't see enough of you, ya know!"

"You saw me last week, Bulma-san. Trunks had turned 13, remember?"

"And if you don't come tomorrow, we won't see you for another six months. I swear, you're as bad as Goku!"

"You know the Kingdom keeps me busy."

"I will let you have the whiskey Vegeta drinks. The one I specifically made for Saiyajin metabolism." Chai could nearly see the coy wink Bulma would have given her. "And plenty of food, of course. I know how you Saiyajins eat. It'll be a whole 10 pounds of ham per Saiyajin and then 10 lbs for the rest of us." There was something special about the way Bulma had her hams prepared. Riesling and peach glaze. She could never be accused of being cheap.

Briefs-crafted whiskey and enough ham to feed her Fire Mountain. If it was good enough for the Prince of Saiyajins, it was good enough for the Ox Queen.

Chai passed another glance over her glass and sighed. It shouldn't be this complicated. They were friends. She could say "hello", couldn't she?

"Friends, though? We're just...friends?"

His scent had been so potent, and judging from the bulk of his arms, the warrior had been training very hard lately.

"No," he said huskily before pushing her against a nearby tree. His lips captured hers -

Don't think about that!

Before Chai knew it, her heart was beating rapidly at the memory. That was twelve years ago, she reminded herself. And he's always going to leave. He had his responsibilities, and she had hers.

This is ridiculous!

The demi-saiyajin set her glass back down on the table next to her half eaten plate. She shook her head at the now cold food, knowing her mother would be ashamed if she saw Chai waste a morsel. Oh well. The woman tightened her tail around her waist and walked her tipsy ass several yards towards him. Her cheeks flushed and she growled at the involuntary burning, looking away from him long enough to get her nerves to settle before looking him over again.

I can't believe he's back.

He was sitting across from Gohan, his broad body tense in his chair. Chai's own careful gaze caught the small things, however. His shoulders were beginning to relax against the metal, and his hands were beginning to move as he spoke with the other saiyajin, rather than staying towards his body. Still, when he'd been here the last few times, the young prince was always more relaxed around the other Z-fighters. These were his comrades. Chai silently wondered if anyone else noticed how much more tense he looked this time. Surely, Vegeta did.

He smiled, his face angled to make eye contact with Gohan as they talked about quantum-mechanical-physical-fuckery that went above Chai's head but, Kami, did she love tracing his jawline as he spoke on subjects she couldn't even touch.

She felt her tail want to unravel and swish behind her, but Chai controlled her instinct. She glanced at her brother, who was shoving eel in his mouth. A thankfully sobering sight. Good gods, did he really eat like their father? Chai shook her head and looked back over at the other man, and couldn't keep herself from staring at his aqua orbs. They were beautiful, like his mother's. She was reminded of what Bulma told her upon arrival.

Chai saw him. All 5'8" of him, then turned quickly, grabbing the shot glass Bulma was offering her and the jug of whiskey. The young queen slammed two shots and stole a glance over at the heiress.

"Trunks-san… Mirai Trunks…"

Bulma nodded solemnly, sipping at her own glass of wine. "A few things before you talk to him…"

"Why does he look like he lost weight?"

Bulma sighed, her mouth forming a thin line. Her hand shook slightly. "There isn't a lot of food in his timeline… Worse than before."

Chai slammed another shot.

"Also, he's still in shock right now, I think because he's here but.. Future Bulma is dead."

Chai stopped a foot away from the two men, and allowed them to finish talking. She kept her ki calm, though the tip of her tail wiggled uncontrollably against her back. The rest kept itself tightly at her waist, occasionally tickled by the long, wild hair she inherited from her father. She didn't quite look like either parent. Vegeta had once noted that she resembled her grandmother, Gine.

"Maybe if more people knew how to fight, control ki... I don't know... " the future warrior trailed off.

Chai hadn't stopped staring at his eyes this entire time. They were more war-weary than ever, yet still intense and piercing. Trunks' eyes always looked as though they were searching for something—an answer to his curiosity, an enemy weakness to exploit, a sense of hope. Even younger Trunks had a constant sense of the wheels turning in his own eyes, though his concerns were more of the mischievous variety.

He finally glanced up at her quickly, then looked away.

Fuck… if younger Trunks is 13… I'm the same age Future Chai was when she died… and Gohan is also the same age as his counterpart.

In his world, they served as dual masters, both providing a catalyst for his transformation to Super Saiyajin with their deaths. They couldn't be easy to be around right now - reminders of how much this Trunks had lost - so how was it he could hold a conversation with her brother, yet hardly look at her? Was it because this Gohan was a scholar, whereas the other one wasn't? Did that alone help the time traveler differentiate the two in his mind? Was it that this Gohan had a family? Was it his bright-eyed smile?

"Hey sis!" Gohan exclaimed, breaking Chai out of her curiosities. He stood quickly to hug her, making her five-and-a-half-foot frame disappear into his arms. How was he still so broad and huge when he trained maybe once a week while Chai trained daily? Dad's damned genetics, she supposed.

The woman giggled at her younger brother's overt affection. Since he'd taken his job at the college, she'd seen more of Videl and Pan than her own brother, and it was already hard enough to see each other. She had missed his warmth quite a bit.

"Gohan, if you squeeze any harder, the people are going to try you for attempt on the Queen's life," the woman said, dryly.

"Sorry, Your Majesty," Gohan chuckled, pulling away from her.

She crossed her arms over her chest and tipped her nose to the sky with a half-grin on her face.

"You look good, Chai," Trunks gently said. "Like you've kept up your training."

When she returned his gaze, she saw he was smiling kindly at her. Her heart kickstarted into high gear and Chai hoped she wasn't smiling stupidly at him. Still, an annoying blush rose in her cheeks and her brain went over several awkward ways to greet him. It also kept lingering on a silly little promise. The reason she meandered over. Ah, liquid courage.

"Hey handsome," she breathed. The satisfaction at watching his face go as red as his scarf was completely worth her own quaking nerves. Gohan nearly choked on his Hetap as the music slowed down. The opportunity was presenting itself. Now it was a question as to whether or not she'd take it. She bit her lip.

"You didn't keep a promise to me," she stated, her arms still crossed. Her tail was beginning to loosen around her waist.

His eyes cast downward. "Chai… I..." Trunks stated, his face now losing all color. Gohan quirked an eyebrow at her in curiosity.

"Yes, at your mom's last party," she smirked. " 'Member?"

The time traveler looked to Gohan, who just shook his head and poked at his steamed rice.

"Before Paragus arrived."

Chai watched as Trunks' other eyebrow raised and his eyes widened with realization. That rosy hue returned to his cheeks as he stared at her.

"Chai-chan, that was years ago! I-I thought you meant -" he cried.

"I thought you didn't break promises," she teased.

Trunks groaned, running a hand through his now blue hair. Chai silently wondered when that happened as he returned her gaze. He glanced around a moment then sighed. Another slower song began. He stared at her like he used to when they'd spar. Like she was a challenge. Suddenly something else sparked in his eyes, then the tiredness he gave off took over them again.

"One," he told her.

She nodded in satisfaction as the young saiyajin stood, leaving his sword behind. The small gesture pleased her. She led him towards the middle of the grass where couples and friends alike danced together. They were friends. This was a friendly setting. It didn't have to be awkward, didn't have to mean anything.

He continued to blush as his arms wrapped around her waist, her tail hanging further down to give him room. Chai put her hands on his shoulders; glad he wasn't terribly taller than her. Through the jacket she could feel just how thin he'd gotten. Chai tried hard to hide how her heart broke and instead focused on his scent and ki.

Those were the same. She could only describe his scent as akin to hot desert sand after a cool rain. Fresh, earthy and with a hint of the spiciness all Saiyajins smelled like. There was a whisper of another scent, like gunsmoke. Chai smelled it and thought nothing more; focusing instead on the light warmth of his ki. It reminded her of a flickering bonfire in the night.

She debated on nuzzling his chest, then realized that wasn't a good idea. She ached as she held back the purring that her inner Oozaru hummed inside her mind.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you in a dress," Trunks commented, bringing Chai back to present.

"There was the first time we met, remember?" she whispered.

"Yeah, but you hated it. This," he looked down at her for a moment, "It looks like something you'd choose."

Chai glanced down at her own attire. The dress was black, with a long flared skirt and lace sleeves. Despite how delicate it looked, the dress was actually quite movable. The skirt flowed comfortably, and there was a slit where the sai rested against her thighs. Her wild hair was pulled into a low ponytail. She had been holding court just beforehand.

"Is that a compliment?"

"Yes," he chuckled.

She smiled up at him shyly. "Thank you."

He began to glance around again, then looked down uncomfortably. "People are staring," he muttered.

"Should we knock them all out?" Chai asked with a devious grin.

Trunks snorted and shook his head. His gaze had completely softened by now. "Yeah, you're still gonna be the death of me."

His gaze. The whiskey. The buzzing vibes of her loved ones. His scent. Her mind was drowning in the little pleasures of her senses.

"Hmm," the woman purred. "I'd rather be the life of you."

Trunks then paused suddenly and furrowed his brows at her. "Chai?"

The sound of her name brought her back to reality. Did she really say that? She stared up at him, removing her arms from his shoulders. Trunks' hands remained at Chai's waist, however her tail was frantically swishing and brushing against his fingers. Her breath matched the velocity of her anxious appendage.

I actually said that aloud.

"I-I'm sorry," Chai stammered, then quickly took to the sky.