Back Against the Wall

Chapter 5

No Relation of Mine

They both travelled on foot, hoping that with their dark garments in the moonlight, they would simply blend into the night. Piccolo watched Gohan walk with a spring in his step and he chose not to voice how premature the other man's positive mood is. There is a possibility, however slight, that the androids had followed them here, after all. Gohan stopped abruptly and pushed a metal door, with cracked panes, open as carefully as his strength would allow. A little red and yellow sign that said 'guide dogs welcome' flapped uselessly against the broken glass. Piccolo followed him inside and mirrored Gohan's own movements, retrieving a torch from one of the bag's many pockets. He pressed every single part of the tiny metal device and eventually it switched on. It took him a moment to identify what he was looking at; maybe a grocery store, albeit an almost empty one.

Gohan filled in the blanks with his chipper yet hushed voice. Although his primary concern was the androids, other humans had also shown a tendency to be violent and desperate in recent years.

"It's a supermarket"

"Oh." Piccolo looked at the dank and dusty shelves and wondered what was super about it.

"Try and look for anything we might be able to eat or drink, or if there's anything you'd like"

Gohan made a gesture with his hand as if Piccolo might actually want to do some shopping. The Namek doubted there would be much to scrounge here and not for the first time, thought they would be a lot better off living in the wilderness. A distant thought occurred that he hadn't really seen much wildlife, certainly not in the city but also not in the fields or woods opposite the apartment. The demi-Saiyan had been hunting several times, although he hadn't caught a great deal. He stored the thought for another time.

Gohan went about searching for any tinned goods, trying hard to ignore the distant stench of the rotted food, long since thawed in the freezers. Piccolo meandered around, struggling to identify what might be food or otherwise, picking up dusty items and putting them back again with a strained expression. He tried to use his height to some advantage, but humans were easily able to climb on things, and the top shelves had been decimated as well. He reached to the back and frowned at a solitary packet, it had a picture of a bowl of food on it. He put it in the bag. Perhaps Bulma would have been better for this.

Gohan bagged whatever he could, whether or not it would be pleasant. He spotted a book, partially torn and smiled; Piccolo looked at him quizzically as he rounded the corner. Gohan opened his mouth to explain but just made a noise of surprise. Piccolo had resorted to just putting everything he could find in the bag and it was clearly full of inedible junk. A box of value ribbed condoms fell out and Gohan couldn't help but start laughing.

"Have you just put everything you can find in there?"

Piccolo grunted.

"Everything I could reach"

That included anything that had rolled underneath the shelves; where he had found two bottles of wine, a tiny box of mints and fabric softener. Gohan smirked as he peered at his companion's loot.

"I think we're about done here"

Piccolo nodded for Gohan to lead the way out. The night air felt considerably welcome after inhaling so much dust and the Namek wrinkled his nose, voicing his distaste.

"You should have moved to a farm"

The demi-Saiyan laughed under his breath, humoring his friend.

"You see one, you let me know"

The journey back had been uneventful, unbeknownst to them, Eighteen had vacated her perch across the road. Piccolo had been apprised of the news of a family moving into the same block, hadn't cared, had snarled at Bulma's hysterics as she unloaded his bag, and finally returned to his room for some peace and quiet. He considered slamming his door but Trunks did that sometimes in a temper.

The other occupants settled down for the night, eventually, and the Namekian enjoyed a few hours of decent meditation before a yelp made him come to. He turned his head in the darkness, listening, and realised that the boy was making strange noises. Adrenaline poured into his veins and he stood, slowly, and stepped lightly to Trunks' room. It reminded him terribly of his Gohan crying in his sleep and a horrid part of him dimly hoped it might actually be the androids and not some sentimental nonsense. No such luck.

Trunks' arms were flailing around under the bedclothes, his face and violet hair wet with perspiration, glinting in the moonlight. Piccolo sighed, he considered leaving the boy to it but his chest prickled at the boy's anguish, clenched as Trunks tried to battle his imaginary assailant. Nearing the bed, he gently grabbed the child's wrists and whispered deeply.

"Boy. You're having a nightmare. Wake up"

He shook him gently, hoping he wouldn't accidentally get a Saiyan kick to the head for his efforts.

"Trunks"

He bit his lip, fangs rolling the flesh, digging for memories of quelling a young Gohan. He smiled a little at the memory, placing a large cool hand on the boy's too warm forehead. The writhing died down a little and he rolled over, muttering. Gohan stood at the doorway, he had heard Trunks crying out and assumed he was having another bad dream. It happened often. He didn't expect to find Piccolo already tending to him and couldn't help but watch the scene play out. He regretted it a little now, as the Namek would likely bark and storm off at having been 'spied' on.

He walked into the room, keeping his voice low.

"Is he alright?"

Piccolo jumped back slightly but covered it quickly, instead he scanned Gohan for a moment, then tried to cover that too. He answered a click too late.

"Yes"

Gohan was wearing his boxers so Piccolo averted his gaze, finding a sudden interest in the wall's repulsive wallpaper. The smaller man smirked at the sudden bashfulness and turned to leave.

"Okay, night then"

He caught a grumbled 'night' like response as he returned to his own room.

Bulma was in high spirits. The new neighbours had arrived and she had invited them over for a paltry but well planned dinner. As much as she appreciated having Gohan around for company, she yearned for companionship and someone to while the time away with that wasn't her best friend's son. A few times she had wondered if things might change between them, as Gohan grew older, lonelier and she herself grew tired of waiting. They had ended up in each other's arms a few times, but she had put the brakes on anything more, anything complicated. He was still so young and deserved not to feel obliged to remain with her and Trunks, and so she kept that door closed. He would do the honorable thing, and she couldn't have that. The occasional comment regarding her ageless beauty, however, she didn't mind so much. Besides, Gohan only had eyes for their Namekian house-mate these days. A small smile graced her lips.

She had forgotten about Piccolo's temper and disagreeableness in the early days, and it still surprised her how used to him she had become since his arrival. He still abhorred noise and socialising, bit back too easily to her teasing and kept to himself. She had noticed him pottering around sometimes, although he would resent such an accusation, watering plants, making tea and helping Trunks attempt DIY. Obviously filing time between training and meditating with Gohan. Bulma had started to wonder if the Namek would ever stop looking at the forest like it was home and settle in. She cursed as the knife slipped and cut her pinky whilst chopping.

At least her Trunks had another role model, although she wouldn't have picked Piccolo out of a crowd, but between the three of them they could give the boy some hope and guidance. Maybe they'd even come up with a way to kill the androids. She smiled wistfully, at the very least, she was glad Piccolo had for some reason, found condoms. She washed her hands, stuck a small plaster on the tiny wound and continued chopping.

Gohan couldn't help being in good spirits, most humans he encountered were starving, terrified and angry; the new family seemed positive and almost normal. Not that he himself remembered what that even meant. They had moved into the apartment two floors below their own, and Bulma had sent him to get them hooked up to their power supply. Atsuto was an amiable man, with dark hair and kind eyes, and three helpful children. He wondered if they would be quite so well behaved if the world had been kinder to them.

The eldest, Kenji, was maybe twenty, the daughter, Kira, about seventeen and youngest son, Kane, only ten or eleven. He hadn't wanted to ask too much about them, a bad habit from not expecting people to live very long. Even those who the androids spared had suffered terribly with radiation poisoning, a hangover from every type and size of atomic weapon that the humans had thrown in defense. He berated himself for it, and promised himself that he'd have a better attitude at dinner.

Piccolo had been quite obviously dodging anything to do with the new humans, and Gohan had to go into the shabby apartment next door to find him. He hated it, it looked so much like a visual representation of their shitty lives. The Namek ignored his arrival but Gohan spoke anyway.

"They've moved in"

Piccolo grunted. Three kids. He couldn't wait to be stared at and endlessly questioned by yet more children. He felt plagued by tiny people. Gohan continued.

"Dinner will be ready in a couple of hours"

The Namek opened his eyes, his deep voice rumbled in the dilapidated living room.

"Yes, Bulma said"

Gohan lingered, before sitting down next to Piccolo with his legs stretched out. The Namek sighed, sensing that something was on the other man's mind. He knew that he was a mile past the point of ignoring, or not caring, about this older, more complicated Gohan and it fucked him off daily. His question came out a little clipped as a result.

"What's wrong?"

Gohan chewed his lip a little bit, not quite sure of himself. He had only come to tell Piccolo about dinner, and he liked to know where the Namek was, but sitting there, with his hands in a centimetre of dust, his mind roiled with questions.

"Do you miss it?"

Piccolo blinked, and abandoned any pretense of meditation.

"Miss what?"

"Your world, the other...Gohan"

Piccolo paused, not really sure how to answer. He hated this topic so much.

"It doesn't matter, this future was or is my future, there is no escaping it"

"That's not what I asked"

The Namekian sighed, how quickly Gohan's mood had gone from inappropriately chipper to pensive and depressed. Maybe being honest would help.

"I miss him, of course, he was like a son to me"

Gohan made a noise of thought, and turned to look at his former mentor. Piccolo saw something click in the older man's eyes and he frowned at it. It looked oddly hopeful.

"You don't see us as the same person, do you?"

"You are the same person"

"But you...don't think of me as him?"

Piccolo was becoming irritated with this line of questioning. It was pointless to debate the past. He snarled his answer, chest tight, saying more than he meant to.

"What I think doesn't change anything. I can't change anything"

Gohan's expression softened. Piccolo carried so much around and never talked about it, it made him want to put a pin in him just so all the hot air would come out.

"No one expects you to, you know"

Piccolo's voice was quieter this time.

"Then why am I here?"

Gohan placed a hand on Piccolo's left knee and squeezed.

"I realised a long time ago that...there isn't a reason. Things just happen, people die and there's no reason. No big picture"

Piccolo visibly recoiled at that, would that happy little boy turn into this man? Gohan evidently felt bad, fidgeting, and wanted to say:

You'll get used to it.

He felt wretched now for turning their lighthearted conversation into an opportunity to rant and spread his pessimism and so, he acted impulsively. He didn't want to see that hopeless look on his wonderful mentor's face.

He moved quickly, deliberately, so Piccolo wouldn't have too much time to react, and swung his left leg over the Namek's crossed ones. Gohan used his density to push Piccolo firmly onto his back, noticing distantly that Piccolo had tried to uncross his legs unsuccessfully, and was now bracing his long, strong jade fingers across his chest. His dark eyes were wide and for a moment, even through the cloud of rancid dust, Gohan wondered if he had gone too far. Piccolo wasn't fighting him off. Maybe he was just too shocked. Maybe he trusts you.

That hurt, and Gohan swallowed thickly. He stilled as he leaned over Piccolo, his hands bracing either side of the pink and green shoulders he loved so much. He could see Piccolo's adam's apple bob and the sound of his own heavy breathing made him feel like a pervert. Slowly, he leaned further down, an inch or so away from the Namekian's flushed and unreadable face. He hoped Piccolo would understand the depth of his question, and searched his eyes to make sure.

"Do you want me to stop?"

Piccolo's hands were still braced against Gohan's chest and he could feel the other man's rapid heartbeat. He could smell that familiar Saiyan musk, mixed with floral soap and moisturiser. He could see his big, beautiful brown eyes. Felt that solid, reassuring weight press down on top of him. Felt his body start to burn where Gohan was pressed against him. He wasn't in control anymore, he wanted to say yes, stop.

"No"

The word out of his mouth shocked him more than it did Gohan.

The demi-Saiyan drew in a deep, shuddering breath he hadn't known he needed. Carefully, as if Piccolo might change his mind and bolt, he placed his warm fingers around Piccolo's own, moving them from their defensive position against his chest to the broken wooden floor. He didn't feel any resistance, but looked hard for it. Piccolo's cheeks, his ears and his nose were peppered with a violet blush and he leaned in, so close. Gohan could see Piccolo's lips quiver slightly, and his dark ebony eyes looked open and warm. It wasn't an expression he had seen before, on either Piccolo that he knew, and it spelled - kiss me. He had to be sure and so he whispered it, like a warning.

"I'm going to kiss you"

Piccolo's fingers tightened against Gohan's own in anticipation. In concealed need. He had seen humans kiss, had always thought it vile, but now it was all he could think about. His body ached for it. The demi-Saiyan's lips moved against his own all too quickly, chapped and warm, taking his own lips with them. He didn't know what to do and suddenly felt quite foolish, but the thought was pushed away as Gohan leaned in further, his movements coming quicker. Gohan's teeth nibbled at his lower lip and Piccolo instinctively opened his mouth, acting unbidden, drawing the other man's tongue inside. The demi-Saiyan delved into him, lapping, and he couldn't help but growl and he hoped, blindly, that Gohan didn't hear it. He was aware that he was moving underneath and against Gohan, his breaths were coming sharp and short through his nose and he didn't want to stop.

Gohan did stop, parting to breathe deeply and look at the Namekian beneath him. The taste of Piccolo felt delicious on his tongue and he licked his lips, taking in those dark, lust bitten eyes staring up at him. He very much wanted more but knew that Piccolo would need more breathing room, time to brood and adjust, or perhaps time to just pretend this never happened. He schooled himself to accept whatever came, but didn't want to pull away, realising that this may be as close as he'd ever get. He smoothed his thumb over one forest green cheekbone, trailing his fingers up and down one pointed ear, wanting to memorise the sensation.

Piccolo just stared, shivering at Gohan's gentle touch and trying to understand his own feelings about the man laid on top of him. This charming, kind man who seemed to want to touch him, kiss him. He couldn't reconcile his thoughts at all; he had not experienced such a feeling before, such a tingling sensation where Gohan's fingertips brushed his skin. He had been sure that Namekians didn't suffer from these bizarre human impulses, didn't lust after each other, didn't get distracted chasing mates. But here he was, whether he liked it or not, his body stirring and throat thick with desire. His heart, heavy with something he didn't understand.

Gohan continued his soft ministrations, and let his breathing normalise before leaning down again, this time cupping Piccolo's face whilst he kissed him, gently. Piccolo closed his eyes, moving his free hand to grip the back of Gohan's head, fingers sliding into his thick, brown hair. Holding onto Gohan's own hand tightly with the other, where it rested on top of an old floorboard beside his head. Even with his inexperience, Piccolo felt the emotion and longing that Gohan poured into the soft kiss. It occurred to him that he had lost that girl, Videl, and that perhaps he was using Piccolo to remember. The thought felt sour in his confused mind.

He pulled Gohan's head away and swallowed, arousal and affection thrumming away, he felt damp everywhere like he had been fighting too long. Gohan seemed to get the hint, and rolled to lie next to Piccolo. He felt more than saw the Namek close down, and to his own dismay, he wanted to cry. Piccolo stood, clumsily, and left the apartment in a flurry of quiet escape. Gohan laid there for thirty more minutes.

Bulma felt incredibly proud of the dinner she had put on; it might have even been enough to somewhat satisfy Trunks' and Gohan's endless appetite. She smoothed down her fitted sunshine yellow dress, sparing a glance for the black strap sandals she absolutely adored. Gohan would have thrown a fit if he'd have known that she had gone on a little shopping spree of her own earlier that day and found them in a house across the street. The sandals would be a great addition to the bland shoe collection that came with the wardrobe capsule she had grabbed. She hoped Atsuto would appreciate the effort she had gone to, a part of her missed a time when her clothes mattered more. More to her, to her friends, colleagues, even her own mother. Even the subtle competition with Chi-Chi's beautiful traditional gowns. She sighed but soon brightened up when the door beeped.

Gohan and Piccolo were nowhere to be found and she huffed a little but put on her best-host face, calling Trunks to the door to greet their guests. The boy had been forced into brown slacks, a light blue dress shirt and navy tie. She had laughed inside, he looked like an angry little accountant. Trunks tried to rake his colourful hair out of the style his mother had insisted on and smiled, huge and fake as the door was opened. Soon, Atsuto and his family were seated at the table and Trunks was sent to find Gohan and Piccolo, whilst Bulma entertained.

Trunks opened Gohan's door whilst muttering about being told what to do, and Gohan nearly walked into him.

"I know, I know. Sorry I'm late"

Trunks raised a violet brow, as if to say, how can you be late when you've been here for hours? Gohan smiled a typical Son grin, whilst putting on the suit jacket Bulma had prescribed him. The black suit looked alright against the white shirt but he left the tie. Trunks was immediately furious.

"Why don't you have to wear a tie?!"

"Because I don't, that's why"

"What! That's not fair!"

Gohan chuckled and he tried to calm his features as he passed Trunks in the doorway, facing Piccolo's room. As quiet as Piccolo was, he could hear the Namek's brooding temper in the hallway. He knocked on the door whilst Trunks scowled up at him with small,muscled arms crossed. The young man was looking more and more like his father.

Piccolo scowled at the pine door and shouted, hating how petulant he sounded. He wanted to say fuck off but he could hear Trunks' huffy breaths outside.

"I'm not coming!"

Gohan sighed on the other side, rolling his eyes. He felt responsible but Bulma would start kicking off if they ruined her carefully planned dinner. The demi-Saiyan wasn't sure who he was more scared of upsetting. He quickly decided it was Bulma as she came storming down the hallway with a pretend smile on her face.

"Gohan dear, what's the hold up?"

She ushered Trunks to join their guests and he tutted before stomping down the hallway. The smell of freshly cooked meat made Gohan's stomach grumble loudly.

Gohan sighed and put his hands on his hips. He gestured to Piccolo's door with an exasperated expression. He felt bad, technically, he was the reason Piccolo wanted zero contact and to hide in his room. Not that he would ever say the words 'hide' and 'Piccolo' in the same sentence out loud. Bulma knocked on the door hard, voice stern.

"Piccolo, it's time for dinner"

Gohan pursed his lips and crossed his arms. Bulma felt her face heat up in rage and she opened the door before the demi-saiyan could stop her.

"Piccolo. It's dinner time, come on"

Piccolo stood up, fists clenched at the intrusion.

"Get out"

She stood her ground, flicking curled blue hair out of her darkened features.

"Look, whatever the problem is, can you just get over it - we have guests. We are going to have dinner and we are going to enjoy it like a NORMAL FAMILY!"

Gohan's eyes widened as Bulma's fast words became a piercing shout. He glanced down the hallway to see if anyone had heard. Piccolo was taken aback, and as much as the intimacy with Gohan had sent him reeling, Bulma's words struck him right in his lonely, cold heart. He growled and hissed.

"Fine!"

He walked towards them, intending to go through both of them if necessary but was stopped by a sharp and painted fingernail.

"Not like that"

Piccolo's eyes narrowed and his words came out bitter and stunted.

"Like what?"

She smiled then and pointed to his gi.

"That's perfect for fighting Piccolo but this is a dinner party"

Piccolo was quickly becoming frustrated and swore in a very fed up, human way.

"For fuck's sake"

Gohan raised a thick brow at the other man and a secret part of him wanted that behaviour to be because of him. He wanted to be under Piccolo's skin. Under it, on top of it, all over it. His cheeks became flushed as his thoughts wandered.

Bulma pointed to Gohan.

"Something like that"

Piccolo looked at the demi-Saiyan, who's gaze he'd been pointedly avoiding, and clicked his fingers. Bulma grinned at the ensemble, a simple navy blue suit, that looked well tailored and a white shirt. She looped her arm with Piccolo's, which made him roll his eyes and feel ridiculous, and marched them both to dinner. Gohan smiled, playing with the fantasies in his head.

Atsuto did blink but kept his reaction tame, as Bulma had explained Piccolo looked very alien, but his daughter gasped audibly. She smacked a delicate hand to her mouth, brown eyes wide in apology. Piccolo spared her an unreadable glance but didn't pay it much mind; most humans reacted that way. Bulma took her seat and gestured for Piccolo to sit down next to Gohan. In a way, he was relieved, if he was sitting next to Gohan it would be easier to avoid looking at him. Instead he was seated opposite the family's eldest son, who introduced himself to Piccolo as Kenji, half stood with his hand outstretched across the dinner table. Piccolo looked at it for a moment before just accepting his fate.

The young man's hand felt large and rough, but warm like Gohan's. He could easily crush it but didn't and a part of him thought someone should acknowledge that. Bulma was talking away to the older man, Atsuto, whilst Trunks and the younger boy traded what seemed to Piccolo like worthless secrets about video games. He hadn't realised the food wouldn't be served straight away and everyone would be free to speak with their mouths instead. Piccolo sighed, he wanted to cross his arms but couldn't in the small space he had been allotted, and of course the human across from him intended to speak at him.

"This is the first time we've sat down to dinner with other people in...years I think"

His smooth voice rolled across the table and he was laughing at himself or out of nervousness. Piccolo noticed immediately that he was charismatic, such a comment would usually not interest him at all, but he felt compelled to answer. Maybe Gohan had destroyed his brain.

"I can imagine"

The young man picked up his beer, and Piccolo felt a strange impulse to copy him and have a drink as well. He resisted.

"Looks like you have a nice place here, your family is nice too"

Piccolo blurted out his reply and regretted it.

"We're not related"

Kenji laughed, his hazel eyes squinting in poorly hidden enjoyment.

"Yeah...I er...figured that"

The Namek tried not to frown too visibly, so as not to draw attention to himself but also because he honestly wanted to give Bulma this one night. If it was only one night. It had already dawned on him that this may be a repeating event. Gohan chatted away to the young woman opposite and her pleasant features kept shifting around in adulation. Piccolo found it distracting, and annoying. Gohan's charm poured off him in rivulets and she kept damn well drinking it.

Piccolo remained fairly quiet and observant through dinner as Bulma served a roasted bird with vegetables and rice and an assortment of foods he didn't recognise. It was an impressive display given the empty cupboards. He did try a little, it was pleasant and he tried to ignore Kenji's inquisitive glance at his lack of appetite. Gohan noticed it too and for some reason felt the need to explain.

"Namekians don't eat, really"

Kenji seemed to contemplate this before repeating the unfamiliar word.

"Namekian"

He elongated the word and it made Piccolo feel uncomfortable. Trunks then started asking Kira questions and she humored him.

After dinner, they all stood and Piccolo actually somehow thought he could leave at this point but was stopped by an impatient Bulma.

"Ah, we're having a few drinks now"

By that, she meant that they would share sparingly the one bottle of wine she had saved, between the adults. Piccolo declined with a palm in her face.

"I'll stay but...no thank you"

"Alright"

Bulma continued to talk mostly to Atsuto, who seemed to love the attention. Gohan could see why, Bulma was an intelligent, interesting and beautiful woman. He overheard something about Atsuto having been an artist, and he realised he wasn't listening to young Kira.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Oh...nothing really. I was just wondering what you did, you know, before?"

"Well I did manage to become a teacher, sort of, but...it sort of came to an end"

She smiled sadly. He supposed she was a little too young to remember when all this began. He caught her awkward expression and smiled, genuinely.

"What do you want to be?"

Her laugh was high and sweet; she reminded him so much of a young Videl.

"Well...ideally, I'd like to be a mechanic like my brother"

Said older brother interrupted, obviously listening.

"Engineer"

"Right! Yes"

She giggled, used to being corrected in this way. Gohan wondered if it was a family joke and spared a brief moment to remember laughing at home with his own family. He noticed Piccolo standing and leaning against the wall next to Kenji, who he was half paying attention to, but he seemed distracted. Gohan watched Kenji notice it too and a part of him hated him for noticing so much. The engineer spoke up.

"Are you alright?"

Piccolo looked surprised at the question but answered.

"Yes"

"You look like you're uncomfortable"

Piccolo frowned at him. Your questions make me uncomfortable.

"I have sensitive hearing"

As if Kenji hadn't noticed the Namekian's prominent ears he peered at them closely. Gohan felt like swatting at the younger man, but didn't have a chance to before Kenji replied.

"Why don't we go somewhere quieter?"

Gohan could feel his face heat up, his chest tighten and the urge to put that crazy suggestion to bed all at once. He watched as Piccolo regarded Kenji before nodding. Gohan logically knew he had no reason to assume anything, or had any right to feel anything about it, but it didn't help. Just because he liked Piccolo so much, it didn't mean everyone did. His mind's voice kept trying to cajole but he must have become visibly annoyed since young Kira asked if he was okay. He tried so hard to pay attention to her but his heated eyes still followed Piccolo and Kenji as they left.

"I'm...fine"

Bulma saw them leave too, and her lightly coloured lips pursed in a knowing expression, amused at Gohan, as he practically set on fire with jealousy.

Eighteen had been bored many times, for long lengths of time, but never had she been quite as bored as when she started following the Namek. For hours, she had watched him. Days passed by, and she waited. Spending every day in eternal boredom until today and she cursed in relief at an opportunity. He was seated, of course, meditating in the apartment next door. At first she had scoffed, silently; all he seemed to do was sit around, she kept wondering why he wasn't fat. He brooded and meditated endlessly. She hovered at the window, just out of his view, keeping still and feeling grateful that the thick Victorian walls would give her the soundproofing she now needed. She had been so damn close.

Then that other one came in, some annoying relation of Son Goku's who followed the Namek around like an unwanted shadow. She crossed her arms, brow creasing ever so slightly at yet another opportunity missed. If she approached the Namek now, that other one would kick off and protect him. They conversed, some useless chit chat and she could see the Namekian grow upset because of it. A fine, blonde eyebrow perked in mild interest. She hadn't seen him emote at all, really, one might say she had even become somewhat fond of his predictable calm.

Then suddenly, the Saiyan had climbed on top of him, pushed him down and she blinked. She had not anticipated this development, and stared in curiosity as they started kissing, passionately at first. She sighed quietly, if she knew humans, and she did, they could be here for a long time. She disappeared.

Eighteen returned later that evening, and saw the Namek sat, yet again, in what she presumed to be his room. Brooding darkly. She idly wondered if the sex hadn't been very good. The Saiyan was inside the apartment again, with the small one and the woman, it seemed Piccolo was very rarely on his own for very long. The android wasn't sure how much time she had to pursue this, but didn't want to cause an unwanted fuss. She looked over the trees in the distance, and could see, some miles away, the other Eighteen and Seventeen flying West. She rolled her eyes and returned her piercing blue gaze to the Namek. She would have to get to them first.

Eighteen cracked her knuckles without thinking and quickly darted away from the window, blonde her whipping her own face as she did. If Piccolo looked up, he didn't see anything.

W.