So - my friend Sphinx wrote a fantastic companion fic to this, that is all about Piccolo's booty; it includes Chi Chi and Bulma being super thirsty.
blackshucksighted. tumblr post / 140485526972/ tight-jeans-on
Just remove the spaces, and you will not regret it!
Chapter 13
"Bulma x Piccolo?!"
Gohan turned on the computer, little fingers already pressed to the keys as he desperately tried to hurry. He didn't want his mother to catch him up here playing around on the computer while he was supposed to be showering and going to bed. She'd be rather upset with him, he knew, so he had to make this fast.
He opened Google, and typed in 'Demon King Piccolo'. There were instantly results, several images fanning up top the webpage. His eyes flitted over each of them—it was just some Namekian guy posing in a big blue jump suit. He didn't understand? What did this have to do with Junior, and Bulma wanting to kiss him?
Wrinkling his nose up, he clicked on a webpage, and saw an article…
Demon King Legacy
Piccolo Daimao, the infamous Namekian
Martial artist, has since retired from his p-
-osition as number one fighter. It is a sad
day, to be sure—but this reporter isn't he-
-re for the sad semantics of it. We're here
to discuss one of the most legendary fight-
-ers of our time!
Some say that he doesn't deserve this title,
what with his embarrassing fall to the you-
ng Son Goku, but this can definitely be con-
-tested!
Gohan stared at the screen. This Demon King—whoever he was, fought his dad?! He glanced nervously at the door, then to the clock. There wasn't enough time to read the whole article! He hurriedly scrolled further down, desperate for new information.
… when Ma Junior took over his father's leg-
-acy, many were surprised. The delinquent c-
-hild that everyone knew—car-jacking, under-
aged drinking and smoking, along with his con-
-sistent defiance of paparazzi—to join his father?
It seemed unthinkable! But it happened, none-
-theless.
Ma Junior seemed solely intent on fighting, now,
though the bad-boy attitude was definitely still th-
-ere. Pictured right are several moments of Ma Ju-
-nior's rebellious streak.
Gohan stared at the images, but he couldn't make much out. They were grainy, black and white shots of some Namekian breaking into a car. There was also, presumably the same teen, sitting atop a roof, middle fingers presented readily, with a long purple tongue lolling down past his chin.
What did any of this have to do with Junior? Bulma's hint had given him nothing! There was more on the article, but he didn't have time. Sighing, he exited out of the window, and quickly shut the monitor off, rushing back to bed. Whatever Bulma's deal was, he just guessed he'd have to wait it out.
Chi Chi was closing up shop, the last of the customers filtering out. She was practically on her own, because for some reason Bulma just kept grinning and staring at her fun, occasionally bursting into giggles. Whenever Chi Chi had approached her over it, though, Bulma had simply umm'd and ahhh'd her way through it, really offering no explanation.
Grumbling, she scrubbed at a table, watching as Bulma dumped plates into the cart, phone still held in between her manicured hand. Ridiculous. She was distracted by the bell dinging, letting her know that someone had entered the shop.
She righted herself, and turned to the customer, "I'm sorry, but we're clo—." Her voice trailed off, her arms folding across her chest as she realized it was just Junior. An irritated glare graced her features, and grew in magnitude when behind her she heard Bulma giggling once again.
Junior looked big and awkward—even more so than usual—as his face flushed. He was giving Bulma a look of pure hatred, before turning it onto Chi Chi. The anger slid from his face, though, and he merely looked uncomfortable, as he dug into his pocket.
He unceremoniously shoved a wad of money at her, hands almost hitting her nose. She went cross-eyed, staring down at the bills that he was offering her. Chi Chi blinked, slowly looking up into the flustered green face.
"It's for Gohan's meal," he snapped, thrusting the money at her more forcefully.
She opened her mouth in a little 'o', before taking it from his outstretched hand. Flattening out the bills, she began counting them and—
"Junior—this is over a hundred zeni!" Chi Chi stared up at him, eyes wide. She shook the money at him, to which he merely shrugged.
"It doesn't matter. I just grabbed an amount from my pocket." He scratched at the side of his face, and Chi Chi remained her open-mouthed stare.
"You just—you just handed me over a hundred zeni! And you just had that in your pocket?!" Chi Chi's fingers formed a death grip around the money, almost scared that he'd take it back, but also worried that wouldn't.
"Yes, what difference does it make?" He gave her a strained look, before turning to leave. Chi Chi just sat there, utterly stupefied by that statement. Who just had money to hand out freely? Sure, her restaurant brought in a decent chunk of change, but most of that went to upkeep—and someone had to pay for her father's house back out in the country.
All of Goku's money went to living expenses, or the account Chi Chi had set up for Gohan's education—which Goku was told if he ever touched she would skin him alive. The most Chi Chi ever really kept on her was twenty bucks… who the hell was Junior to just casually throw a hundred dollars around like it was nothing?
Then she remembered… Both the arcade, and when Gohan's text book had gone missing, he'd nonchalantly shrugged off the thought of big spending then, too. She furrowed her brow, and glanced up at him.
"Wait a minute—your shop doesn't have that much business! How can you just give this away?" Chi Chi pressed forward, and she heard Junior audibly groan.
"Much like everything else you harass me over, it's none of your concern." Junior twisted his mouth into a snarl, baring his teeth down at her. "Why do you pry into my private life?"
"I don't!"
"You do!"
"I'm just wanting to know why you feel like you need to do this—or have to do it!"
"Fine, then give me the money back!" The moment he extended his hand, however, Chi Chi immediately retracted, holding the money closer to her chest. A satisfied smirk spread across Junior's face. "That's what I thought."
"Well, it's just…" Chi Chi's voice trailed off, but realized she had no defense. She couldn't help it—money was a big deal, as far as she was concerned. There was no way she was passing up any amount when it was being offered. It stung her pride a bit, but this would be extra money for Gohan's sake.
"I don't care about your personal reasons, woman. Just take the damned money. And, if it eases what little conscious debate you had just there—the money is of no use to me. You might as well take it." Junior shrugged, and motioned at the door. "Am I free to leave now, or are you going to stop me again?"
Chi Chi's face flushed. "You can leave," her voice was merely a grunt, and her knuckles tightened around the money. Part of her was disgraced by how she had just acted, but part of her was quite pleased. She didn't know which part was right in this scenario.
Junior left, then, and Chi Chi was startled to see Bulma pressed close to the window, watching the Namekian go.
"Um? Bulma?" Chi Chi pocketed the money, and looked at her worker. The woman was watching Junior with a glazed look in her eye. "What are you doing?"
Bulma turned, then, and her expression twisted, just a bit. "Oh—uh, nothing."
"You were staring at Junior," Chi Chi crossed her arms, and jutted her hip out. "Please tell me you're not attracted to that monstrosity."
"Oh!" Bulma blinked, before giving a big smile. "Yeah, that's totally it. I just—I don't know, the green skin. The uh—height? Yeah, that's attractive, I guess."
"Are you trying to convince me?" Chi Chi quirked an eyebrow up, bewildered by her friend's attitude. "Wait, is this why you kept laughing earlier?" she demanded, making sure to look directly at Bulma's phone.
"Yeah—well. Can you blame me?" Bulma still had an odd cadence to her words. "Big, green, and handsome. That's how I like 'em."
Chi Chi curled a lip in disgust. "Trust me, if you're attracted to him, it's only because you haven't had to talk to him. Though, I do question your taste." She sighed, and moved her hands to her hips. "I really think someone like you could do far better."
Bulma squealed, and dragged Chi Chi into a hug. "You are so sweet—but you have no idea…"
And Chi Chi decided that her friend being weird should just be left there.
Green Bean
Have you ever dated anyone?
….
Excuse me?
Seriously like. Do Nameks date?
Milk if you are hitting on me I'm not
interested.
I'm not!
Then I don't see that it matters.
I'm just asking for a friend, is all.
…. Is it the blue haired one?
….
No.
You didn't answer my question!
Junior?
She glared at her phone—she'd felt as if it was a simple enough question. Though, to be fair, it had been a bit nosy. So sue her! She just wanted to know if it was even a possibility that her friend could get with such a thing. Chi Chi was trying to prepare herself for the worst, especially considering that Junior had already known about Bulma's possible crush.
Wait… could those two possibly—
Oh, gross!
Gohan sat at the table of Porunga's Post, watching Junior. The alien had been rather silent today, and kept looking at his phone. He kept wondering who it was, but he'd guessed it was his mother when Junior had muttered something about Milk.
He rolled his eyes, and waited for the man to finally set his phone down. Junior was looking extremely disgruntled, so Gohan took this opportunity to scoop up what he'd been working on from the table. The cool, waxy stems slid in his hand, and he approached Junior, hiding it behind his back.
"What?" he demanded, glaring in his usual fashion. Gohan merely smiled, motioning for Junior to come closer. Snarling and griping, the alien bent his torso lower, antennae hovering near Gohan's forehead.
"A present!" Gohan enthused, and tossed his present around the Namek's head. Junior blinked, and reared back. He glanced at one of the display cases, where his reflection showed a flower crown nestled around his green ears.
"What the hell—!" Junior reached one clawed hand up to remove it, but Gohan made a noise of distress. His eyebrows scrunched upwards, and tears pricked the corners of his eyes. The Namekian halted, fingers twitching just millimeters from the flowers.
"Please, Mr. Junior—I worked hard on it." Gohan stared up at him, fingers locked together as he fidgeted. He could see Junior's jaw muscle jumping, and the corner of his eye seemed to be having a seizure.
The alien flopped back on his seat, though, and crossed his arms.
"Fine, what the hell ever. I'll wear the stupid thing."
Gohan cheered, and hugged happily at one of Junior's legs. He was rewarded with a light shove, and a command to 'get back to work'. Obediently, he clambered back up onto his seat, trying to stifle the large grin breaking out across his face. It was times like this that let him know Mr. Junior really wasn't all that bad.
Chi Chi glanced at the clock, and threw her rag in the sink. It was only lunch time, but she was already exhausted. The day had been rather hectic, with the two working at maximum capacity. Their teamwork had become extraordinary, if she did say so herself, with the two changing back and forth from the kitchen to the floor seamlessly. Teaching Bulma to cook had been the best decision she could ever have made.
Bulma was outside right then, when she glanced out of the little window into the main area. Chi Chi was surprised, however, when she looked. Both Junior and Gohan were there, with Bulma fluttering around the table.
She wrinkled up her nose at the sight—really, was the heiress attracted to the green alien? It seemed odd. Sure, Junior wasn't the ugliest thing, but collards didn't suite her pallet. Though, if she were being honest, he was certainly a little less repulsive when he was with Gohan…
Or…wearing a flower crown?
Chi Chi paused, and rubbed her fists into her eyes, and blinked a couple of times. And yes—there Junior was, looking particularly flustered with flowers all nestled around his twitching antennae. The big alien looked ridiculous, and obviously felt it, especially with Bulma touching the flowers and lingering like that.
She rolled her eyes, and her sleeves up, then proceeded out into the main area. Several of the tables were occupied, so she made it a point to stop and talk to the customers as she went. When none needed anything, she finally arrived at the booth where Junior and Gohan sat.
"Oh—," Bulma turned when her boss approached, giving her an easy smile. "Hi. I was just taking these two handsome men's orders." Junior bared his fangs at her, which Bulma twittered over. Chi Chi had to wonder what was wrong with her friend.
"Why are you wearing a flower crown?" Chi Chi asked Junior, and his face turned an even darker puce. He seemed as if he didn't wish to answer, and huffily folded his arms across his chest, doing his usual act.
"I made it for him!" Gohan replied in his stead, smiling up at the two women. Immediately Chi Chi felt her heart melt—she had such a wonderful young son! The perfect gentleman, with the cutest grin, and a heart of gold.
Both Chi Chi and Bulma let out simultaneous 'awwwwww's, and looked directly at Junior. He hurriedly glared at the table, antennae a blurry mess as his fingernails dug into the table.
"That's very sweet of you, Junior," Chi Chi said, surprised that she actually meant it. Beside her, Bulma was doing something suspicious with her phone. Junior didn't seem to notice, and waved an airy hand in their direction.
"It's nothing—I just didn't want the brat crying. I was more than ready to tear the damnable thing." His voice cracked just the slightest bit, though, and Bulma pulled her lips into a puckered pout. She folded her hands together and pressed them to her cheeks.
"Strong, handsome, tall, and good with kids—geez! Do Nameks ever get married?" Bulma grinned down at him, and Junior sneered at her. "You sure would be a steal."
"It's none of your business," Junior scoffed, and glared moodily down at the table. He had arrived to one of his moods, and Chi Chi took this opportunity to persuade Bulma to leave them be. It could be her imagination, but she was almost certain that Junior had given her a relieved glance as she hurried the heiress away to a table.
"I'm surprised you wanted to come here again, Mr. Junior!" Gohan sat across from his friend, watching as the Namekian's face slowly faded back to its normal green now that Bulma and Chi Chi had taken their leave.
Junior shrugged, and drummed his nails against the table top. "I have my reasons, kid."
Gohan decided to leave it at that, and began happily chatting away about school. He'd become better friends with Videl, along with other students. Since Junior had spoken with the bullies, they'd been terrified at the very thought of being near him, for fear that the Namek would appear and get them. There was also the hype of his winter performance coming up, which Junior was ever helpful with, even if he grumbled the entire time.
Junior listened to him talk, occasionally giving his own dry comments as per usual. Gohan had to wonder if the surly old man thing was an act, or if it came naturally at this point. He found he didn't mind it, though. Now that he was used to it, Gohan could see that, in spite of all of his bluster, Mr. Junior had to care about him—or else he wouldn't spend any time with him.
Though, Junior was certainly distracted today, as he was constantly watching Chi Chi roaming around the restaurant. Gohan thought to ask him about it, but he'd learned from experience that doing so never really ended all that well. He also wanted to ask about Bulma's odd behavior, that would certainly be a sensitive topic to broach, and Gohan didn't know the best way to go about it.
So, instead, he lapsed into amicable small talk, and didn't mention Junior's roaming eyes. At least, he didn't, until Junior's shoulders went ridged, and he seemed to become overly alert. Gohan turned quickly to look at what was happening, and noticed that the man Vegeta was back. Junior was staring at him intensely, and Gohan could feel himself stiffening at the sight as well. There was nothing nice about this man, and he found himself wary of Vegeta's presence around his mother.
He saw Bulma approaching Vegeta.
"What do you want?" the heiress asked, popping a hip out. She had a strange device in her hand, tapping away at it, as Vegeta glared up at her. Confused, Gohan spotted a tail behind the man—had that always been there? It was long and brown, the fur standing on end as it twitched behind him.
"You insolent beast. Bring me the woman." Vegeta's arms crossed, and his eyes narrowed at Bulma, who proceeded to ignore him in favor of her contraption. She was punching in keys, and with each click Vegeta's impatience seemed to mount. "Am I talking to myself here?!"
"Might as well be," Bulma grunted, finally looking up at him. "Wow—to be a part of the Cold family you're pretty fiery."
Vegeta's back went rigid, and Gohan furrowed his brow in confusion. What was a cold family? Did they live in the north? He glanced at Junior, who remained intent upon the conversation. Perhaps he knew…?
"I am not a member of the Cold family," Vegeta snarled, voice a fierce rumble as he rose from his seat. Gohan almost wanted to laugh at that, considering that the man would have to stand on his seat to reach Bulma's eye level.
The heiress merely flicked some of her curly locks behind her shoulders, and stared him down, waving the small machine of hers in his face.
"Well, it says right here—yes, marvel at my genius later—that you are." Bulma leaned forward, tapping her finger against the screen. "Says right here you were adopted, and that their connections are the only reason you even made it to where you are. Well, where you were before you lost to Son Gok—,"
Vegeta lashed out, and Junior leapt up from his seat. No sooner had he done so, though, Chi Chi had appeared behind Bulma, her hand catching Vegeta's. She pressed against the palm of his hand, eyes narrowing as she regarded him.
"You need to leave." Chi Chi's voice was like iron, her face flushed and red as she stared Vegeta down. Gohan bit his lip, looking nervously back at Junior, who was still standing there. His shoulders were tense, and his ears were pinned back against his skull.
Vegeta snarled something, and tore his hand from her. He pushed past the women, storming his way towards the door. The man only paused for a moment at the door, eyes lifting and locking onto Junior.
His tail immediately bushed out, but he quickly wrapped it around his waist. Junior noticed, and took a threatening step forward, his hand forming a fist at his side. Vegeta snarled, slamming his shoulder into the door as he took his leave.
There was a tense silence that fell over the restaurant, the customers who were still present sat staring at Chi Chi. Gohan watched his mother practically deflate, and she started talking in an angry whisper to Bulma. The heiress looked the slightest bit chastised, and the handheld device she'd been messing around with quickly disappeared into a pocket.
Beside him, Junior was slowly lowering himself back to his seat, and Gohan sucked his lip into his mouth, chewing at it. It had been a while since he'd seen his mother like that; she had stopped training after her father took his leave. And, even when he'd seen her, it had only ever been sparring—nothing to this degree. She had been actually, legitimately angry. It had unnerved him, and he didn't know what to do.
So he slid from his seat, and wobbled nervously over to Junior's booth. He saw the Namekian give him an odd look, but Gohan crawled up into his lap regardless. For a moment, it looked like Junior would protest. At Gohan's pleading look, however, the man merely dropped his arms to his side, and Gohan settled himself in.
Chi Chi and Bulma were doing damage control, approaching each table, assuaging customers. Gohan maintained his position, fist knotting up into Junior's black shirt.
"I don't like that Vegeta," Gohan mumbled, and he felt rather than heard Junior's sound of assent.
"You're very astute, kid. His presence here sets me on edge…"
"Is that why you came back today?" Gohan looked up, only able to see Junior's chin from this angle. He saw the man's neck bob as he swallowed, and a grunt soon followed. "You know, I worry about mom, too… but she's really strong."
"I noticed."
His mother was coming closer, obviously working her way over to them. He heard his stomach give a plaintive growl as Chi Chi approached, painfully aware that dinner had been ruined by the short man's antics. Above him, he heard Junior give something that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
"I'm sorry about that," Chi Chi grimaced, coming to a stop at the table. She sat down across from the duo, burying her head in her hands. "I wish he'd stop coming here." Her voice was muffled beyond the press of her hands.
"He's certainly a jackass," Junior muttered, and he shifted, causing Gohan to wobble precariously. He soon felt Chi Chi's gaze finally resting on their position, and she gave her son a soft smile. She drew her phone out, and waved it in front of them.
"Mind if I take a picture?"
"Yes."
"I'm going to take one anyways." Chi Chi promptly did so, and replaced her phone in her pocket. She saw Junior roll his eyes, while Gohan merely giggled.
"You looked pretty cool, mom," Gohan wanted to assuage her. He could practically see the lines on her face from the weight of what had just happened. She rewarded him with a tiny smile.
"It was rather impressive, Milk," Junior said. Gohan watched his mother blink in surprise, eyes widening just the tiniest bit. It… looked like his mom was blushing? He wrinkled his nose up at that.
"Well. I couldn't very well let him hit Bulma," Chi Chi mumbled, tugging at one of her loose strands of hair.
"I didn't realize you had any training—that was a skilled block."
Chi Chi shifted in her seat. "Oh. Yes… I suppose I've never really talked about it before, but my father was a martial artist. He trained me, and it's actually how I met my husband." Gohan saw that soft look enter his mother's face—that same tender look whenever she spoke about Goku. He didn't think he was supposed to notice how said it made her look.
But he did.
"Wait… then why didn't you train Gohan?" Junior demanded, and Gohan wished he could see the Namekian's face from this vantage point. Instead, he was left to look at his mother's alone, and she wasn't giving him much to go off of. He glanced to the side, and saw Bulma busing the tables.
"I don't like violence, or fighting. And especially not for my son…" her voice trailed off, and he attempted to give his mother his best sympathetic look. The thought of hugging her came to mind, but he was rather comfortable. She sighed, then, and stood from her seat. "I'd better go help Bulma."
"Don't forget you still owe Gohan food," Junior pointed out, and Chi Chi paused. She turned, a slight smile on her face.
"Of course, flower boy."
Junior snarled.
Chapter 14
"Stray Dog"
Bulma rode home, the street lights flickering over her car as she sped down the road. Work had been eventful, that was certain. Part of her was a bit guilty that she'd antagonized Vegeta, especially considering the fact that Chi Chi had to do so much damage control. But, in that moment, she'd felt like she had the upper-hand with the Saiyan.
What she'd read had piqued her interest, that was certain. The Cold family—they were famous; she was certain they had stock in her own company. Bulma and her father had worked for them before, producing items that wouldn't have been legally sanctioned elsewhere. However, the Briefs family had some pull-power, backed with the Cold's own strings, they managed to get things done.
So, when she'd discovered that Vegeta had been adopted into such a rich line of folks, she'd been intrigued. The man was aggravating, that was certain, and she definitely wanted to punch him, but now she wanted to know the full story.
Personally, Bulma never had any interactions with the Colds. Her father dealt with them indirectly through a third party group, so as to have an out if things ever broke. He did this with any of their more… shady side of the business.
She drummed her fingers along her steering wheel, and rolled her car to a stop at the red light. Her mind was still occupied with the day's events. While she'd been grateful of Chi Chi's intervention, Bulma had known Vegeta wasn't really aiming at her. He'd struck down when he'd swung—specifically at the device she'd held in her hands.
True, she'd been a bit rude, digging into his past. But Bulma was a woman of her ways, and that way was to discover everything about those that she dealt with. It was the upmost importance to her that she had intel on everyone she was to have continuous contact on. Chi Chi was already a go, Gohan was an extension of that—and Junior… well, she'd been following him and his father for as long as she could remember.
Vegeta was the newest enigma, and she was honestly surprised that she knew nothing of him. Sure, he was a new-comer, but from what she'd read, he'd used the Cold name to garner him some money and backers. That, and he'd fought Goku! Bulma loved Son's fights, and yet this one hadn't been televised or commercialized in any way!
All she'd managed to find was a definitive note of loss, but that hadn't come as a surprise. Goku was virtually undefeated. What interested her more was why nothing had shown up about it? With how big a fighter Son Goku was, for it to have not shown up anywhere…?
The red light was taking forever… she glanced to the right, and noticed a figure dragging itself down the road. Her brow furrowed as she instinctively went to lock the car door. She paused, just shy of the button, as she recognized the high, spiky hair.
Vegeta… he was slumped over, cradling his stomach as he flopped down against the building. She saw his head thump back against the wall, and she caught his expression in the light of the moon. Bulma felt a small, niggling moment of doubt, just as the light flashed green.
Setting her teeth, she rolled forward, ignoring the honk from the car behind her as she swiftly parallel parked beside the curb. She grabbed her phone, and clicked the flashlight app. Her hand hit the door and she swung it open, high heels clattering against the sidewalk.
She slowly approached Vegeta, the flashlight cutting a swathe of light onto the dim street. Bulma crossed her arms huffily, nipped by the chill air as she drew closer to the form. He finally noticed her, and glanced up, a rude sneer spreading across his features.
"Howdy, stranger," Bulma greeted, crouching down beside him. She lowered her phone just the slightest bit when he squinted up at her. Part of her was nervous—what if she'd misjudged him and he would have hurt her back there. There was no Chi Chi to help her this time, and Bulma was many things; beautiful, fierce, flawless, but a fighter? Hell, no.
He didn't attack her though, and merely snorted, arms crossing over his chest.
"What the fuck do you want?"
"Why are you sitting out here on the street?" Bulma prompted, tilting her head to the side. He heaved a half-assed shrug.
"Nowhere else to go," he grunted, and looked away from her. Bulma paused, and shifted her weight, precariously bouncing atop her calves.
"You're telling me with your background you couldn't find anywhere to go?"
"I told you," Vegeta's voice dipped into a dangerous snarl, "I'm not a goddamned member of the Cold family. Didn't you learn your lesson last time?"
"No," Bulma replied airily, flipping curls behind her. "All I learned was that my boss is a complete and utter badass." She watched as Vegeta shifted, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Though, I am certain that you pulled your punch just a bit… also that you intended to break my machine, and not hit me."
Vegeta remained silent.
Bulma sighed, and puckered her lips. "So you're not going to tell me why you're sitting out here in the cold?"
"The thought hadn't crossed my mind," Vegeta sneered. She saw his tail tremble around his waist. "Why are you concerning yourself with me?"
"I'm known for my charity cases; don't you know?" Bulma winked, and he had the presence to look disgusted. She felt confidence surging through her in this moment. "Anyways, is sleeping in alleyways a safe practice?"
"What the hell do you care?"
"Good question, that." Bulma thoughtfully prodded at her lips, and gave him a coquettish smirk. She fluttered her lashes, just the tiniest bit, and watched him recoil from her. That was a stab at her pride, if ever there was one! It didn't matter, though. Her curiosity was burning a hole in her stomach. "Would you like to stay the night at my place?"
Vegeta blinked at her, and drew back. "Are you offering yourself to me?! The answer is no!"
Bulma snorted, and stifled her laughter, which seemed to further irritate Vegeta. "No way, short stack! I just think you look pathetic."
"And what's to stop me from murdering you in your car?"
"Are you stupid? I'm not getting in a car alone with you. I'll send you in a personal cab." Bulma arched a brow. "And—I mean, you're more than welcome to steal from my house. I promise you can't take anything that will actually hurt my family."
Vegeta sneered at that, and glared down at his lap. He remained silent for so long, that Bulma stood to stretch her legs. The moment she did so, Vegeta finally spoke up.
"Fine. But one night, woman. And only because it is cold." He looked a bit flustered, but his arms were tightly crossed over his chest. His glare looked like it could melt a hole straight into the concrete, but she still wanted to laugh. She'd have to weasel some information out of him before he managed to slip away.
For now, though, she needed him comfortable. She called the cab, and waited for him to depart. The first question she wanted answered was why he kept harassing Son Chi Chi…
Bulma seemed preoccupied for the next couple of days, though Chi Chi made it a point not to pry. It wasn't her place, as far as she was concerned. If the heiress took it upon her to actually approach her over it, then she'd delve farther. She was passing it mostly off on the Vegeta incident, and had left it at that.
The diminutive man hadn't been by since, which was strange and expected all in one. After that fiasco, she wouldn't imagine him wanting to be present anyways…
That day had been far too eventful. From the business, to the flower crown, and all the way to Vegeta's attack—it had been too much. And after that, Junior had actually given her a look of admiration, which had set weird in her stomach, especially with Gohan sitting in his lap that way. It reminded her of something, but she hadn't been able to place it.
However, she knew she would see him again tonight. It was movie night, and per Gohan's request, Junior would certainly be present. The Namekian was falling further and further under Gohan's spell, unable to deny the child anything he requested. Chi Chi couldn't help but feel as if it were rather cute, really.
So she worked the day away, keeping in mind what was planned for the evening. Gohan had picked out The Never Ending Story, and while it wasn't Chi Chi's favorite, she was willing to sit through it. She went to put a plate up to dry, and giggled to herself at the thought of Junior's comments.
By closing time, Bulma left in record time, muttering something about an investigation. Chi Chi watched her go, and waited for Junior to appear. The Namekian entered, ducking his head under the doorway, with Gohan clinging to one finger.
She smiled at the two, and pulled her apron off, hanging it over the counter.
"Hello, boys," she greeted. Junior made some sort of noise in response, while Gohan eagerly tugged the man forward.
"C'mon, c'mon!" he cheered. "You move too slow, Mr. Junior!"
"The movies are going to be there all night, brat," Junior snarled, but allowed himself to be manhandled. Chi Chi laughed at the sight, and allowed Gohan to grab her hand as he passed as well. She spared one look at Junior as the two were led to the staircase.
"Such a big bad alien, being dragged around by a little boy!"
"Very funny, Milk—considering you attacked a Saiyan and lived through it."
Chi Chi smirked. "I'm a woman of many talents."
"Most of them annoying and arbitrary."
Gohan very purposefully rolled his eyes where both adults could see, releasing them as they entered the apartment. Without him to hold them there, Chi Chi and Junior both stuttered to a halt, awkwardly lingering in the door frame.
Chi Chi couldn't remember if she'd been this close to Junior before, but she quickly pulled away. Close proximity to a man's chest that wasn't her husband's seemed a tad bit unnecessary—even if it was a big green alien.
Junior coughed, but didn't fight her on this, and merely moved to the couch. He plopped himself down, arms folding across his stomach.
"I'll make popcorn," Chi Chi announced, to no one in particular.
Junior was putting Gohan to bed, and Chi Chi felt odd with the familiarity she felt with this situation. Having Junior over was becoming common-place, and it seemed as if Junior had no plans to go elsewhere. Gohan loved having him around, and Chi Chi… well, she was getting used to him.
She stared at her lap, and thought of Goku. He should be the one here, eating popcorn and putting Gohan to sleep. He should be the one in there, laughing as he ducked around model airplanes in order to kiss his son good night. He should be the one standing up, ready to fight the nearest threat to his family.
But he wasn't.
Chi Chi sucked in a deep breath as she felt tears stinging the back of her eyes. There was no way in hell she was going to cry, especially with Junior now meandering back into the living room. She swiped at her nose, and turned to face him. His eyes lingered on her for just a moment, before he looked to the door.
"I can let myself out," he grunted. He shifted his feet, and crossed his arms. Chi Chi nodded slowly, and tightened her hands into fists on her thighs.
Silence greeted her, followed by a loud, pained groan. She furrowed her brow in frustration, as Junior grumpily plodded over to the couch. The springs groaned as he lowered himself to the cushion, and she glanced at him in surprise.
"Three questions. No tricks this time." Junior's arms were tight across his chest, and his antennae flicked in her direction.
Chi Chi gulped, before shaking her head. Right.
"You… you said the hair was fake—from the picture?" A grunt. "Well, how did you fake that and the tattoos?"
Junior sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I was young, and stupid."
"Not much has changed over the years."
"Put a cap on it, Milk. I was young, and stupid, and I wanted to aggravate my father." Junior tapped a long claw against the bare pink flesh of his forearm, and Chi Chi stared at the overlapping skin. "I didn't tell him, but I used to spend hours in front of the mirror, using Spirit Gum to get the hair on my head."
Chi Chi wrinkled her nose in disbelief. "What—?!"
"Don't interrupt," Junior groaned, "this is bad enough without having to repeat and go over things. I also had my cousin draw my tattoos on with markers."
"He drew them on every day?"
"I… may have Saran wrapped them when I took showers…" Junior's voice was a low hiss, and Chi Chi had to clap a hand over her mouth to stifle her incredulous laughter. "Ha ha. Very funny. Don't think I forgot your shoulder pads."
"That was a look of minimal effort—you have no excuse for that."
"And you were in high school in the goddamned nineties! Shoulder pads weren't a thing."
"You big green jerk!"
"Judgmental midget!"
"Oh, go conform to the nonconformist."
Junior groaned and rolled his eyes. "Look, just take a damn point so we can get on with this thing."
"…. Fine," Chi Chi grumbled. "26 to 6."
Junior glared at her. "Next question."
"Why are you so against going to see your father?" Chi Chi asked that one, and knew it was a bit of a stretch. She watched his shoulders tense, and he seemed to falter for just a moment.
"My father is a horrible man. I've always known that, but it wasn't until I grew older that I face the ramifications of his actions." Junior shrugged, and his face fell into a mask. Something told Chi Chi that no amount of prying would get her any further. "Next question."
She figured she'd go easy on him. "You like spending time with Gohan, don't you?" It was over-stepping her boundaries, but she prodded his shoulder, just the tiniest bit. His face burned that brilliant purple, and he snapped his fangs at her.
"You already know the answer, damned woman—otherwise you wouldn't have asked."
Chi Chi smiled, and laughed, feeling her earlier worries drift away.
"Yeah… I guess you're right."
Let me know what you think in a review, or you can get a hold of me on Tumblr! I can't get the URL to work, but my account is "nuke-em-high"
I have a tag there for both of my current fics, apartment, and idaft.