Smithback: Most of your questions get answered this chapter - except for ones with spoiler content. But, if anyone is uncertain - no. Junior DEFINITELY does not know that Chi Chi is Son Goku's wife.

Chapter 9

Princess Bride

"It's always something with you two, isn't it?" Junior grumbled, following Chi Chi up the stairs into her apartment. It was the weekend, and when Gohan hadn't showed up at Porunga's Post early in the morning, he'd texted Chi Chi. She'd informed him of the situation, and despite the fact that he hadn't stopped complaining since she told him, he was coming over to check up on Gohan.

"If you're just going to be sour, you could have stayed at home," she pointed out, tugging nervously at a lock of hair. This whole ordeal had her extremely upset—Gohan wouldn't tell her what had actually happened, but she'd been able to guess a fair amount.

When she'd entered the room to her son in hysterics on the floor, Chi Chi had swiftly scooped him up, taking him to his bed, where he'd been free to cry in peace. She'd tried several times to get him to talk, but to no avail. It wasn't until she checked her call history that she'd seen that Goku had called.

Part of her thought of texting her husband, demanded to know what he'd done, but she knew that in all actuality, Goku had probably done nothing. And that was why Gohan was so upset.

Behind her, Junior continued to mutter under his breath. They entered the apartment, and he stood idly by the door while Chi Chi poked a head into Gohan's room. She could see that he was sound asleep, head buried into a pillow. Sighing, she slowly closed the door, and came back into the living room, motioning Junior to join her.

He came in, looking apprehensive. His gaze wandered across the room, until he paused again next to the arm of the couch.

"He's asleep right now," Chi Chi explained, "but I'm pretty sure he's just worn out from crying. If you want to talk to him, I'm sure he'll be up in a minute."

Junior opened his mouth, and gave her a frustrated glance. "I'm not worried about the kid, all right? It's just… he's the only one that can talk to these damned customers. They all piss me off."

"Of course, tough guy," Chi Chi smiled, then waved a hand at the couch, ignoring his glare. "You can wait here if you want." He tightened his jaw, but took a seat, awkwardly squaring his shoulders. She joined him, and flicked on the television.

Idly, she flipped through channels, gauging his reactions. He didn't ask to watch anything, and she'd yet to find something she actually enjoyed. It was frustrating, really. But fine—she just clicked it onto the gaming channel, reruns of Family Feud acting as background noise.

Junior stared at the screen for a moment, before he flexed his claws against his knee. He turned to look at Chi Chi, seemingly having an inner battle on whether or not he should deign to speak to her.

"What… What's wrong with the kid?" he finally grunted, looking a bit pained. His gaze flickered over to Gohan's bedroom, eyes wary.

Chi Chi sighed. "My husband called," she said slowly, and Junior just gave her a bemused look, "and I found Gohan on the floor in tears, holding my phone. I'm assuming that the conversation took a turn for the worse…" She trailed off. She hated discussing Goku with other people—because they were either exceedingly sympathetic, which was embarrassing, or completely misunderstood his personality, which was aggravating.

Junior nodded slowly, claws drumming out a haphazard tune.

"I just wish I knew what they had talked about…"

"Can't you call your husband?" Junior asked, folding his arms across his chest.

Chi Chi felt a bit of her temper rush to the surface. "You don't think I thought of that? He's busy with his work it's… It's pretty rare that he calls at all."

"So, in effect, you really have absolutely zero idea why the brat is all broken up?"

"I've told you not to call him—ugh. Never mind. Yes, that is what I'm saying. But I do know my husband and his… tendencies." Chi Chi shifted in her seat, looking to Gohan's door. She didn't want him to wake up and hear them talking about Goku.

"Tendencies?" Junior prompted, face openly curious.

She tugged at her hair once more. "His job keeps him busy, like I said. He's on the road a lot. I haven't actually seen him in… well, in almost a year…" Chi Chi attempted to swallow the lump that was forming in her throat. "And Gohan thinks about it a lot, I'm sure. How can a little boy not?"

Junior pulled a face. "Yes, well. Familial relationships are hardly easy."

Chi Chi gave him a sharp look. "Especially father-son relationships."

"Watch it, Milk," he snarled, "I'm not an idiot."

Chi Chi shrugged her shoulders, earning her a scowl. She actually thought to smile, just a bit.

"Do his little freak outs happen often?" Junior asked next, to which Chi Chi hesitated.

"Not in a while—and not to this degree," she replied. When Gohan was younger, he'd certainly taken it a bit rougher then as he aged. At first, it was every time Goku left to go fight—he'd have to leave ridiculously early in the morning to catch his flights, and Gohan would never get the change to say good-bye. But, when the frequency of Goku's extended stays rose, Gohan had eventually just… found a way to hide how he felt about the whole thing.

Every once in a while, though, something would tip him over the edge. There was nothing she could do except take care of him until it all blew over, just like always. She was certain that Junior's presence would motivate Gohan as well—since he had a strange affinity for the green man.

Junior lapsed into pensive silence, nails resting on green skin. Chi Chi looked at it, started, faltered, and then began again.

"If you don't mind me asking—,"

"I'm certain I will."

"—it's just, whenever I went into your apartment—,"

"Trespassed."

"—I saw a picture, and in it… You had tattoos? And hair?"

Junior's face flushed a deep purple, and he bared his fangs at her. "I thought you were nosy enough when you were listening to my phone calls, but now you were sifting through pictures? That's voyeurism!"

"It's not!" Chi Chi shot back, attempting to defend herself. "I was looking for the textbook, and it was just sitting on the TV stand!"

She was met with stony silence, and Junior sat there, looking particularly purple and highly offended. Chi Chi decided to return the favor. She leaned further back on the couch, matching his rude gaze with her own.

"… they weren't real," Junior muttered, looking like he desperately wanted to be anywhere but here on the couch with Chi Chi. She supposed that might be entirely true. Especially since now she's was staring open-mouthed at him, eyes wide in shock.

"What?"

He snarled, rising abruptly from the couch. "I'm not repeating that, you nosy ass woman!"

"All right! All right!" Chi Chi placated, lifting up her hands in a peaceful motion. "It's just—it was a bit of a shock."

Slightly mollified, Junior returned to his seat. He remained on the edge of the cushion, however, as if waiting to leave should Chi Chi say anything else. "Yes, well… we all have shitty teenage years."

Chi Chi hummed, then clapped her hands. She shot up from her seat, and hurried to her end table. Swinging open one of the doors on it, she knelt down, digging for a photo album. She ignored Junior's questions and lingering gaze in favor of dragging out the large blue book. There were stickers plastered all over it, along with some notes that she could no longer remember the origin of.

She sat back down, but this time on the middle cushion, so she was closer to Junior. He made a strangled noise, and attempted to squash himself back further from her presence.

"Don't be a child," she said mildly, focused more on turning the pages. A short aha! and she found what she was looking for. Nudging Junior with her shoulder, she stabbed a finger at the page, fingernail tapping against the glossy cover of a photograph.

Junior snorted, and covered his mouth, suffocating what was certainly laughter.

She gave him a wry smile. "I didn't know you could actually laugh."

"How could I not!" Junior kept his hand placed firmly over his mouth, eyes incredulous as he looked down at the page. "I saw business women with smaller shoulder pads!"

"They were very in for the time," Chi Chi huffed, looking mildly offended.

"No, no they were not." He peered over, actually laughing more. "Your hair—! It looks like you're from a Twisted Sister!"

Chi Chi made a noise of consternation, and slammed the album shut. "I regret showing you this, I just wanted to even the playing field so you'd stop fussing." Stuffing her nose in the air, she rose from her seat, shoving the album back into its original place.

"How is it my fault that you dressed like you were in the goddamned eighties? I figured you were old—but not by that much." Junior smirked up at her.

"It was what my father bought me," she replied hotly, arms heavily crossed. "Anyways, at least I didn't look like a delinquent!"

"You're right. You just looked like an idiot."

"I should never have decided to be nice," Chi Chi grumbled, flopping back onto the couch, ignoring the fact that he was still looking smug as hell.

"I call it less being nice, more trying to ease your guilty conscience for breaking into my apartment." Junior shrugged his shoulders, arching a brow. "Am I wrong?"

"Entirely. Just like usual." Chi Chi crossed one leg, jiggling her foot impatiently. This caught Junior's attention, and his shit-eating grin was back.

"Also—completely unrelated question—those were jellies that you were wearing, weren't they?"

"Shut up!"

Gohan sat on the floor, ear pressed against his bedroom door. Outside, he could hear his mother and Junior talking, and he found he liked it. It was relaxing, in a way, as he swiped at his tears, and tried to collect himself. He knew his mother had been worried about him, hovering around his room all day, trying to coax him into talking.

He was glad Junior was here now, distracting her so she could have some time to relax.

The wood was cool against his forehead, but the carpet was scratchy against his legs. Every time he shifted he felt the fibers dragging, and he debated whether or not to enter the living room. Each time he thought of it, though, he remembered that Junior was probably here to ask him about what was the matter with him—and Chi Chi would certainly question him as well.

That kept him rooted to the spot.

He didn't want to talk about it. Didn't want to admit his weakness. When his father had just abruptly ended the call, he'd felt devastated—hurt. He hadn't known how to cope with the sheer wall of emotions that had hailed down on him.

Outside, he heard Junior laughing, and that was nice. The way he saw it, the Namekian didn't laugh enough. He wondered what his mother had done to make him do that. Their voices were far too muffled to actually make anything important out.

Their conversation soon lulled, though, and Gohan could hear the suffocating silence stretching all the way to his room. He decided he might as well go outside now. Eventually he'd have to return to his regular life, and he might as well do it now.

His hand slowly encompassed the cool metal of the knob, and he turned it, the click ringing through the apartment. As soon as he stepped out of his room, he was caught in the gaze of both adults, eyes watching him.

He gulped, and stepped forward, forcing a wobbly smile onto his face. His tears had since dried, though he knew his eyes might still be a bit puffy.

"Hi, Mr. Junior," Gohan said, voice rather hoarse as he moved forward, hesitantly making his way to the Namekian, "I didn't expect to see you here."

Junior was watching him with a calculated look, burly arms uncrossing as he regarded him. Gohan gulped, and gave his mother that same, timid smile that threatened to fall right off his face. He placed his hands on the couch, and hauled himself up to sit between the two.

"Gohan, baby, how are you—," Chi Chi's voice was cut off, and Gohan glanced at Junior just in time to see the Namekian making a stop motion to her over his head. His mother physically stuttered for just a moment, before she lapsed into silence, instead busying herself with combing his hair.

It felt nice, having her fingers carding through it. He relaxed, and turned his attention to the TV.

"Um—they're playing Princess Bride tonight," Gohan muttered, fiddling with the hem of his pajama shirt. He turned to see his mother's smile. "I was wondering if we could watch it?"

"Sure, honey," Chi Chi said, running one hand down the side of his face, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He felt as if he was going to cry again, but he squashed it down. "We'll make a whole movie night—I'll order in some pizza, and we can make popcorn. That sound good, baby?"

Gohan nodded, perking up, actually managing a real smile. He paused, and turned slowly, glancing sheepishly up at their neighbor. "I'm sorry that I didn't work today…"

"It's fine," Junior grunted, heaving his shoulders. "I closed the shop, anyways." He scratched at the side of his face. "Didn't feel like dealing with people." Gohan felt as if he were glowing on the inside. Then the shop keeper began to stand, shoving his hands awkwardly into his pockets. "Now, if you're all right, I'm going to leave."

"Wait!" Gohan lurched forward, fingers grasping at Junior's sweatpants. The Namekian paused, staring down his nose at Gohan. "Um… it's just… don't you want to stay and—and have movie night with us?"

Junior stayed silent, his eyes flickered between Gohan and Chi Chi. He seemed to linger on her for just a moment longer, almost as if asking a question.

"Wouldn't staying here be better than sitting all alone in your apartment?" Chi Chi prompted, and Gohan gave her a beaming smile.

Junior gave her a lop-sided smirk. "Well—that's a matter of opinion." He shrugged, though, and looked into Gohan's pleading gaze, before giving a slight sigh. "But, what the hell. I have nothing better to do. If you try to feed me any of that greasy food, though, I will personally strangle you."

"Fine by us," Chi Chi snorted, "that's all the more for us."

"Like you need anymore."

"You rude—!"

Gohan giggled, and decided that he felt much better.

Junior was staring, dead-panned, at Chi Chi and Gohan, both who were now in the floor, each holding a pizza slice, dramatically waving them in the air.

"Why the hell are you two able to quote this movie so easily?" he demanded, eyes narrowing at their backs. Truly, this was ridiculous—he'd only stayed because Gohan had seemed a bit down and well… that had bothered him. But this was too much! The kid seemed perfectly fine now! What the hell was he here for?

Gohan paused, and turned back to look at him, face bearing the most offended look.

"It's only me and mom's favorite," Gohan admonished.

"It was his favorite bed-time story," Chi Chi enthused. She turned and gave him a rather nice smile, winking as if she understood his exasperation. Really! A grown woman behaving the way she did.

He rolled his eyes at the two, and firmly crossed his arms. He was most certainly not going to smile when they brandished their pizzas at each other like swords. Simply no way.

Gohan had passed out during the second run of the movie, his legs sprawled across Chi Chi's lap, and his head resting in Junior's. The man had been sitting there, attempting to look surly, meanwhile painstakingly making sure not to disrupt the young boy.

"I have to use the restroom," Junior gritted out, glancing desperately to Chi Chi. She stifled a giggle, but moved to help him, cradling Gohan's head as the Namekian gratefully slid out from underneath him. She pointed him to the right door, and soon he was gone.

Gohan stirred just the slightest, and Chi Chi let him fall back onto the cushions. She stood and stretched, yawning and turning the TV off. There were still pizza boxes she had to clean up, and they'd left their popcorn bag strewn across the table.

The struggles of being a mother, she told herself, and set about cleaning up. A flush sounded behind her, and she heard Junior reentering the room, swiping wet hands on his jeans.

"You know; I have a towel in there."

"I have a principle against touching anything covered in butterflies."

"Not very confident in your masculinity, are you?" Chi Chi quipped, dumping the popcorn bag and soda bottles into the trash, and placing the boxes near the door, ready to be taken out later. She turned and propped a hand on her hip as she regarded Junior.

He sneered at her. "Confident enough."

"So—fake hair, huh?"

"No." He waved his hands in front of his face. "We did enough of your shitty human bonding, and I'm ending it."

"Namekians don't bond?" Chi Chi prompted. "Then what about the two in the picture with you?"

"Those are cousins, and," he grumpily fidgeted, "yes Namekians bond and form friendships."

"Ah—so the whole human shtick is just for show?" she grinned more as his discomfort mounted, until he shifted completely away from her, and focused on Gohan.

"Should you really leave him on the couch like that?"

Chi Chi decided to let him shift the conversation—she'd revisit it later. There was only so much prying she could do in a day, she'd learned. Might as well just drop it when it reached a certain point.

"No, I guess I'd better put the little monkey up." She smiled fondly at the couch, but Junior coughed, interrupting her.

"I can… I mean if you'd…" He fumbled over his words for a moment, then wrinkled up his nose, forcing an angrier tone. "I'll put him to bed."

Then he stoically moved towards the couch, shoulders squared as he bent to scoop up Gohan.

"Sure thing, tough guy," Chi Chi chuckled, following close behind him. He'd already secured the little boy, nudging open the bedroom door with a foot. His head was assaulted by Gohan's model ships, leaving him cursing and stumbling as he attempted not to jostle him too much.

"Why does he have all this shit?" Junior grumbled, placing Gohan on the bed, leaving Chi Chi to do the tucking in.

"They're presents," she replied, kissing Gohan and making sure the blanket was nice and snug. She stood, then and the two exited the bedroom, standing awkwardly at the front door.

Junior rubbed uncomfortably at his arm, before stepping towards the door, hand hitting the knob. He turned it, and took a few steps into the staircase below him.

"Hey—," Chi Chi watched him freeze on the first three steps, her forehead leaning against the door frame. He didn't turn to look at her, but he stayed still. "Thank-you… for… for spending so much time with Gohan." She stared at his immovable back, his shoulders tensing up. "I know we don't see eye to eye but… well, today was good for him."

Junior sat there for a moment long, before shrugging, and making a scoffing noise at the back of his throat. "It's whatever, woman. If the brat is sad then he won't do any work—it's as simple as that."

"You don't have to keep pretending around me," Chi Chi muttered, a small smile flittering across her features. "I know you're big and strong—even if you don't insult a small child."

"Whatever!" Junior snapped, and began hurrying down the stairs. "Just make sure he's at the flower shop soon!" She heard the front door slam, and rolled her eyes. After locking up, she'd be all set to go to bed.

Chapter 10

Vegeta?!

"Mr. Junior," Gohan peeked hopefully over the edge of his book, eyeing the large Namekian carefully. He was rather nervous on how this would all go over, and he didn't want to upset the shop keeper.

"What, kid?"

Okay—that was a good sign. He said 'kid', not brat or a curse word that Chi Chi would never let him say and live. He'd also said it in such a pitch that Gohan felt more comfortable going in for the kill.

Sucking in a deep breath, Gohan squared his shoulders, and placed his book down, fingers drumming nervously against the cover.

"Well, it's just… I have this school recital coming up and, well, I was wondering if maybe, you know, you'd like to come…?" His voice ended in a rather high pitched squeak, and his cheeks flushed as Junior slowly turned to look at him. The onyx gaze drilled into his skull, and Gohan quickly threw his hands up, fluttering them around. "You don't have to, though! I mean, I'm just inviting everyone—dad said he'll show up, and mom, and Bulma, so if you don't come it's totally okay don't worry about it and—,"

"Gohan," Junior interrupted, voice sharp, causing him to immediately quiet down. He hunched his shoulders up, fighting back tears as he clutched desperately at his stool. Mentally he was preparing himself for the unholy amount of reprimands he was about to receive.

He waited.

"When is it?"

Gohan stared in blank surprise at the Namekian, before the question was repeated once more, this time with a great deal more agitation. He gulped, and swiped his hand along his corduroy pants, attempting to collect himself.

"U-um… it's… it's right before Winter Break… They send home flyers before it happens so…" Gohan's voice trailed off, and Junior hummed in ascension.

"Fine. I'll come to the damn thing—but you children better not sound like shit, you got me?"

"Yes, sir!"

'Gohan said you're coming to his school's musical?'

'Remind me to never commit a crime with that kid around – he'd snitch.'

'I'm laughing real hard, green man. Your assholery aside, thank-you.'

'Is assholery a word? Maybe I'll ask Gohan to look it up in the dictionary.'

'Do it and die.'

"Chi Chi!" Bulma shot into the kitchen, eyes wide as she desperately grabbed her boss, tugging her forward. Chi Chi attempted to resist, but the other woman had a vice-grip on her. Bewildered and a tad bit upset, Chi Chi was manhandled up to the swinging kitchen doors, and she peered through the circular windows as instructed.

"Creepy McGee!" she exclaimed, hurriedly looking to Bulma. Both wore the same wide-eyed expression, unsure of how to proceed from here. Chi Chi stepped back from the doors, and Bulma followed, pacing alongside her.

"I was out there with that last group of customers, and he just waltzed in! Didn't even wait to be seated or anything!" Bulma shot another cursory glance out the window, before giving a horrified gasp. "He has a menu! That bastard went behind the counter!"

"I think that's the least of our problems," Chi Chi huffed. She began nervously wringing her apron. "I never expected him to actually come in…" her voice trailed off, and she steeled her shoulders. "But he is a customer. We can't just leave him untended out there."

Bulma bit her lip, but nodded. "Fine. Let me go see what his deal is."

"I'll come with you," Chi Chi affirmed, falling in quick step behind the heiress. "I want to know why this man randomly decided to actually come in here—he's been scoping this place out for a while."

"Stupid porcupine," Bulma grumbled, and the two spilled out into the main area. Creepy McGee himself glanced at them, his ridiculously high eyebrows lifting up at the sight of them. He gave them a very pointed sneer, and Chi Chi had to resist the urge to punch him in the face.

Bulma approached him, and Chi Chi pretended to be cleaning a table nearby. She wanted to be somewhere close, should the man do anything untoward to Bulma. If he attacked her, she needed to be ready. Chi Chi almost thought of getting her phone ready, but she didn't want to seem to suspicious.

"Hi, sir, how can I help you?" Bulma's chipper voice was extremely faked, and Chi Chi could practically hear the strain it was putting on her. "Our specials today are—,"

"I don't want to speak to you." The man's voice sounded bored, and he flicked his wrist at Bulma, as if swatting a fly. "I need to speak to the owner of this… restaurant." He made the word sound as if it was synonymous with cockroach, and Chi Chi tightened her grip around the rag she held. No, no, don't punch the customers.

"She's busy," Bulma replied, dropping her syrupy voice in favor of a waspish one. She'd apparently given up on playing nice.

"Busy pretending to be cleaning the same table you just finished with?" Chi Chi froze at his words, and she heard Bulma mentally stall behind her. "Now, if you two women are done with your petty games, I would like to speak to Son Chi Chi."

"I don't really care what you'd like," Bulma gritted her teeth and crossed her arms. Chi Chi could hear a pattern being tapped out on the tile.

"Shitty service from a shitty place, I'm sure," the man sounded as if he were attempting to drawl out his words, but instead he sounded antsy and impatient. "Now I demand that woman come here and attend to me."

"Oh you demand it, huh?" Bulma's voice rose in decibels, and Chi Chi grimaced, realizing it was about time for her to step in. She set down her rag, and turned, locking gazes with the man. She was blocked by the blue heiress, however, who had just bent over the table. Her one hand was splayed across the surface, while her other began jabbing impatiently at the man's chest.

He made a disgusted noise at the back of his throat, and looked ready for murder.

"Enough!" Chi Chi shouted, causing the duo to separate. Their gazes were still furious, but she approached, fists on her hips. Her heart was beating rapidly—if it came to a fight… well, she'd cross that bridge when it presented itself.

The man remained seated, shaking in fury.

"Now…" she swiped her bangs across her forehead, forcing her best 'I'd kill a man' face. "Who are you, and why have you been lingering around?" Behind her, Bulma scoffed, loud and clear. Chi Chi just hoped that the woman remained there.

"You're Son Chi Chi."

"I asked who you were—I'm perfectly aware of who I am."

"Insolent bi—," Bulma made a very crude gesture behind Chi Chi, "fuck off, you blue imp. Anyways, I've been performing surveillance. I'm sure such simple creatures as yourselves wouldn't understand such a thing, but I needed to know details about this place."

"Why?"

"Because…" the man stopped, gritting his teeth so hard Chi Chi was sure she heard a molar crack under the pressure. He simply sat there, unwilling to continue. His shoulders were tensed up, and his arms were crossed so tight that he was shaking.

"Who are you—can you at least answer that?" Chi Chi demanded, and the man sniffed, rewarding her with a condescending look.

"My name is Vegeta—and you'd do well to remember it, woman." He glared at the women, and Chi Chi could feel her blood boiling under his gaze. There was that urge to hit him again. The man was increasingly unpleasant, and he'd yet to give them a reason for why his presence was even needed.

Chi Chi paused, however, when she heard furious clicking behind her. Both she and Vegeta turned their gazes to Bulma, who made a small 'aha!' noise, with her nose buried in what looked like a phone. It was much larger, however, and had a keyboard poking out of it.

"Vegeta—fighting name is The Prince—wow, really full of yourself there, aren't you. Especially since right here, I already found a headline on you losing, badly, to a one Son Goku." Bulma's grin was wide, white teeth glimmering behind red painted lips.

Vegeta's face was brick red in an instant, and he lurched up from his seat. "What the hell—,"

Bulma sighed, and clicked the keyboard back into her device, tossing it onto a nearby table.

"I'm not surprised. I mean—you beating Son Goku?" Chi Chi was staring blankly at the blue-haired heiress before her. Bulma had never made any mention that she knew about Goku, or fighting in general… did that mean that Bulma had known who she was this whole time…?

"You shut your mouth, woman!" Vegeta's fists were at his sides, and Chi Chi was distracted by the sound of his knuckles cracking—and oh hell no, he was not going to hit Bulma, was he? Over Chi Chi's dead body!

"I read your stats, too," Bulma fanned her face, expression gleeful and mocking. "A whole whopping five feet, huh? Bet you thought you were a big man, didn't you?"

"And three inches!" Vegeta spat.

"Ooo, very impressive, you know!"

"Knock it off!" Chi Chi's voice cut between the two again, and she physically interposed herself. She set her feet apart, squaring herself off. "And you," she looked pointedly at Vegeta, "I don't know what you have to do with my husband—but I'll have none of this in my restaurant. Either behave, or get out, and don't come back!"

Vegeta met her gaze solidly for a moment, his eyes narrowed. He flickered momentarily between a furious Chi Chi and Bulma pulling faces behind her, before he gave a final scoff, and left. The door clicked shut behind him, and Chi Chi groaned, breathing a sigh of relief.

She visibly relaxed, slumping down in the now empty booth. Bulma took a seat across from her soon after, and Chi Chi gave her a serious look—her 'mother look', as Goku affectionately referred to it as.

"Now." She twined her fingers together, resting her chin against the knuckles. "Are you going to tell me if you knew all along who I was?"

Bulma paused, looking briefly guilty. "Okay—I… might have done my research on you before taking this job. But Goku's really quiet about you! You don't appear in any interviews! You've never been physically present for any of his matches! It was hell figuring out who you were!"

Chi Chi sighed, rubbing a hand against the side of her face. "Do you… What in the… Why did you want to meet me?"

Bulma hesitated, looking a bit embarrassed. "I'm… I'm a big fan of fights—the World Tournament is what I live for! And your husband is… well, he's fantastic!" she was especially enthused now, pumping her fists as she spoke animatedly to Chi Chi. "I've been the Tournaments ever since I was a little girl—and nobody's had his record since the Demon King Piccolo!"

Chi Chi tuned out, just a bit. She knew all about King Piccolo—he claimed he was a demon, even though they'd done a DNA test on him and it was posted up on the website that he was just an alien -which Chi Chi now recognized as Namekian. She remembered spending late nights at the library, trying to help Goku with every statistic that she could pull up on the monster.

-C'mon, Cheech! There's no point in reading all that about him! A fight's a fight!

But Chi Chi did it anyways, terrified that this man would completely and utterly demolish her husband. Sure, there weren't supposed to be deaths at the Tournament, but Demon King Piccolo was famous for… accidentally incapacitating his enemies. And Goku had been so young…

She groaned, focusing back in on Bulma.

"… started hardcore following his career a couple years back—then I started digging into research on him," she motioned to the device she'd used for Vegeta, "and I found out about you. And I thought… well, maybe he'd come visit you and I'd… get to meet one of my heroes…" The woman trailed off, fidgeting under Chi Chi's blank gaze. "I'm sorry—I know it wasn't right. I really do like you and Gohan's company! The little squirt is especially great…"

"Why not just… meet Goku?" Chi Chi asked, mentally exhausted at this point. Between Vegeta being… whatever the hell he was, and Bulma dropping this bombshell, she couldn't really muster enough fire to actually get heated about this.

"See, I tried!" Bulma grimaced. "But even with my beauty and connections, I couldn't meet him! Goku has a strict policy against paying your way in." Huffing, she crossed her arms, jiggling her foot beneath the table. "When he meets fans, he randomly appears in a city, with absolutely no forewarning. No tickets, no times, and no priority meet-ups."

Chi Chi mustered up a tired smile. "Yes, if you're attempting to get through to Goku using money, I'm afraid you've got the wrong fighter."

Bulma grumbled. "No kidding—really, I picked the wrong sport. I tried to meet the Demon King once, that backfired horribly. He had his… son… keeping watch." Bulma got a weird look on her face, but Chi Chi felt as if she'd taken all the prying into peoples' lives that she could manage for the day.

They sat in silence for a moment, before Bulma spoke once more.

"Are you… going to fire me now?" her voice was soft, and she clicked her nails against the table. "If you do—could you lie to Gohan? Maybe tell him I had to travel across the country for something cool?"

Chi Chi regarded her in silence.

"I'm not going to lie to my son."

"Ah."

"Because I'm not going to fire you," Chi Chi sighed, casting a glance outside the window. "Regardless of your intentions, I like having the help. You are a good worker, so far as I'm concerned. But if you're holding out for Goku to show up, I'm telling you right now you might as well leave. The next time Goku is supposed to be in town is Gohan's Winter Recital. He'll be leaving directly afterwards. He doesn't stay."

Bulma blinked, eyes opening wide. She clasped her hands hopefully in front of her chest.

"Really—that's so cool…" her eyes got a far-off, dreamy look, and Chi Chi was momentarily unsettled. It was odd to think of people imagining her husband this way. All she ever saw him as was the goofball that had maybe suffered a bit too much head damage when they were children.

"Just… do me a favor, okay?"

"What is it?"

"Don't… don't mention Goku around Gohan, okay?"

Bulma nodded, though she looked a bit confused. And Chi Chi decided she didn't want to elaborate.

Gohan sat at the table of Porunga's Post, practicing his songs for the upcoming recital. It had been rather slow at the shop, and he figured there was no time like the present. He wanted to do his absolute best! Both Junior and his dad were going to be there—and he wanted them both to be happy with him.

Junior, however, seemed put out, as he glared at Gohan.

"Can't you practice at your house?" Junior demanded, drumming his nails against the wood.

"No," Gohan huffed, setting down his sheet music. He hopped off of his stool, and approached Xuanzang, pulling the plush into a quick hug. "Because I have to work here. Though—you could help me Mr. Junior!" He perked up, bouncing on his toes as he quickly replaced the dragon. His eyes were big and hopeful as he regarded the suspicious-looking shop keep.

"How the hell would I help you?" Junior demanded, cocking a brow upwards.

"Okay—well, I'm singing in the chorus, so I want you to sing the bits that I don't do!" Gohan hurried back to the table, returning with all of his papers. Rocketing up onto tiptoe once more, he shoved the papers over the counter to Junior.

The man recoiled backwards, fingers twitched as they hovered over the onslaught of paper now littering his area.

"What the fu—," Junior grunted, and shook his head, "I'm not singing, brat!"

"It doesn't have to be good," Gohan pleaded, fingers grasping at the wood. He rested his wobbling chin against the grains, eyes opening even wider as he peered up at Junior. The corner of the Namek's eye twitched, and he seemed to be distinctly uncomfortable.

Junior tried to argue, but the moment tears pricked Gohan's eyes, his large shoulders heaved, and he snarled.

"Fine." Junior rose abruptly from his seat, and slammed the 'open' sign to 'close' on the door. He seemed incredibly grumpy as he took a sheet from Gohan, scanning irritable eyes across the words.

A disgusted noise left Junior's throat.

"I don't want to sing this shit!"

"You didn't want to sing at all," Gohan giggled, to which Junior gave him a rather dirty look.

"Since when did you become a smartass?"

Gohan kept up his laughter, ducking his face behind one of his papers. "Maybe from a bad influence?" Junior gave him another disparaging glance. "Pleeeeeaaaaaaaaase Mr. Junior?"

The man groaned, and buried his face in his hands, digging his nails in a bit more than what was strictly necessary.

"You better appreciate this, kid."

Chi Chi carried a few take-out boxes in her hand, scurrying her way over to Porunga's Post. She'd figured that Gohan would be hungry, since she never saw Junior's car leave. The day had been peaceful, especially since Vegeta hadn't returned since the debacle almost a week ago. She had decided to take this opportunity then, to give Gohan a visit, as Bulma was handling the restaurant just fine on her own. Food seemed to be the best way to go with her growing young boy, and she'd packed enough for Junior, if he decided to eat.

She barely glanced at the 'closed' sign, instead opting to just nudge open the door with her foot. The bell didn't go off, as she was simply shimmying her way through. She paused, just inside the door, however, and almost dropped all of the food she'd been carrying.

Junior was sitting, propped up against Gohan's little work table, brow furrowed as he poured over a music sheet, voice deep and rumbling as he prattled off the words.

Little white snowflakes, falling from the sky
Floatin' over my head, way up so high
But before they reach the ground, I'm gonna open my mouth
Stick my tongue out, and catch 'em as they travel down south

Gohan interrupted him, however, waving his paper in consternation.

"Mr. Junior! You're barely singing! You're just kind of talking to a tune!"

"Damn it, brat, I'm doing what you asked!" Junior snarled in return.

"I can't practice if you're not being super serious!"

Chi Chi coughed, and both boys turned to face her. Gohan immediately smiled, waving his hands ecstatically at her. He soon had crossed the room, taking a couple boxes from her, and exuding thanks. Junior, however, was looking distinctly embarrassed, face a bright shade of purple as he glared a hole in the carpet.

"Didn't you see the closed sign?" Junior snapped as Gohan began shuffling papers out of the way in favor of placing down the take-out boxes.

"You always leave the doors unlocked," Chi Chi replied, bringing the rest of the food over. "Didn't think it mattered."

He glared at her, but she ignored him, giving him a rather secretive smile.

"I thought you sounded kind of nice—Mister Junior," her smirk was rather broad, and Junior looked like he was going to explode.

"Shut up, Milk! The brat asked for some help, and—,"

"And you just had to help him, I know," Chi Chi tittered, and patted his hand, feigning a sympathetic look. "Really, it was awful cute of you."

Junior began spluttering incomprehensibly, and Chi Chi turned to Gohan, who was trying to stifle his laughter by stuffing food in his mouth. She kissed her son on the forehead, and smoothed his hair back.

"I'm proud of you for practicing, baby." Gohan beamed up at her, still eagerly eating away. "I'm sure your father will be happy to hear you play!"

"Mm…" Gohan's voice trailed off, and he fidgeted in his seat. "We actually have a 'Daddy' song—do you… think he'll like it?"

Chi Chi blinked, but gave an enthusiastic nod. She hoped her reassurance didn't appear as phony as she felt. "Of course! You know your daddy loves you more than anything in the world!"

Gohan nodded, though it didn't seem to have done the trick like she'd wanted. Pursing her lips, Chi Chi gave him another warm hug, finally turning to Junior.

He was still maintaining his easy position, arms folded over his chest as he regarded the two. The sheet music was still held between his fingers, and Chi Chi gave it a passing smile, causing him to abruptly hide it behind his back.

"What?" He demanded, glaring down at her.

"Just—," she stopped, and shook her head. "If you want any food, I brought extra."

"I don't eat human food," he groused, hunching his shoulders, increasing his surliness.

"Fine, fine," Chi Chi waved a hand. "I was just trying to be a good neighbor, grumpy-britches."

Junior sneered. "Your insults are waning."

"I'll admit to that," she smiled, and pretended to tick off her fingers, rolling her eyes up dramatically with her fake math, "and I do believe the score is 25 to 6 now?"

Junior blinked. "When did I—?"

Chi Chi motioned at the sheet music, and shifted her gaze to Gohan, who was completely focused on his dinner.

"Extra points for… not being a jerk. Let's call it that."

Junior opened his mouth, and then clicked his jaw shut, shrugging his shoulders.

"Whatever, if you want to give out free points for stupid stuff, that's on your shoulders." He kicked one foot out, crossing his ankles, and purposefully looked away from her with a sniff. She rolled her eyes, and said her final good-byes to the boys, and went home.

Junior is singing a song called "Catchin' Snowflakes" - and here's a link with an audio file:

www . songsforteaching calendarweatherseasons / catchinsnowflakes . htm

Just removed the spaces.

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Thank-you!