Chapter

"Solar Ports"

Junior sat on the couch in the Son house, feeling rather out of place even though he'd been here multiple times before. The movie nights were a little more frequent then he was sometimes comfortable to admit, but he couldn't really find the motivation to stop coming to them. He found he rather liked the kid's smiles, and Chi Chi was becoming more tolerable.

Even though she knew who he was.

Well, part of it. He had debated telling her the whole truth, when it had come out. However, there had been so much trust in her gaze—that he was different from his father—that he hadn't been able to correct her. It had almost slipped out… but if she didn't know, then chances were that Goku wasn't going to tell her.

He sighed, head rocking back against the couch. The kid was still passed out, and he'd been idly texting Chi Chi. His newest discovery involving her tattoo was a rather fun one. Part of it was because of leverage against her—which honestly he needed with their current number score. The other part… well.

Junior jumped, just a bit, as he heard Gohan's bedroom door open. It creaked on its hinges, revealing a sleepy Gohan yawning as he pushed on the door. The boy was rubbing at his eyes as he trundled into the living room. He definitely wasn't awake yet, as he clambered onto Junior's lap.

"Daddy…" Gohan mumbled, voice just barely understandable through all of the sleep.

And Junior jolted, unsure of what to do. He knew the kid was sleep-induced in that moment, but that word… Some unknown emotion crept up through Junior as he sat there, stupefied. It was a cross between utter despair and the utmost joy.

He gulped, and tugged the kid off of him, depositing him onto a couch cushion a safe distance away. Not that it really did that much good, as soon Gohan had extended one hand out, latching onto Junior's pants as he lay there, still snoring.

Junior snorted, and saw that Chi Chi had messaged him back. He thought about telling her what Gohan had said, then decided that something so personal wasn't any of her business. And anyways, the kid was passed out—what he said counted for nothing.

Then he'd went and blabbered on about her backside, and gods wasn't that embarrassing? Not that she had a bad one, or a questionable one but—nope. Junior wanted to punch himself in the face. This was a 30-something year old married woman, with a child. Everything about that said abort.

But she stopped messaging, anyways, and thank the stars for small miracles.

On the couch, he heard a loud, raucous snore. Gohan had apparently startled himself awake once more, and was rubbing tiredly at his eyes. Junior glanced over at him, just as Gohan made a sharp little noise, and shot off into his bedroom.

Junior stared after the kid. Why did he keep getting involved in this family?

Gohan soon reemerged with a big, red, glittery mess clasped in his hands. He shuffled back in, looking particularly nervous as he approached. Junior stared down at him, and realized he was scaring the kid with his face. He attempted to look just the slightest bit less imposing, but it was pretty hard with his size and natural disposition. Something about a two hundred and eighty-pound green man put people off.

"What do you have, kid?" Junior's voice was gruff, but that was all he knew. Gohan never really seemed to mind, though, and stuck the red blob out at him. Extending one hand, Junior took it, slowly opening the sheets of paper. Glitter immediately rained down into his lap, and he stared at the mess. Glue was stuck to his fingers as he desperately tried to keep his calm façade—but seriously, what the hell?

He narrowed his gaze, and saw that something was written there in big green sharpie.

I LOVE YOU MR. JUNIOR

YOU ARE THE BEST

LOVE, GOHAN

Junior crinkled up his nose as he felt something burning at the back of his eyeballs. Tears? No—oh, hell no. He was pretty sure his face looked constipated as he attempted to hold it all in, because Gohan was giving him a tremoring look, unsure of what to do.

Junior sucked in a deep breath, and gave the kid a lop-sided smirk.

"Thanks, what is it?" his voice sounded off from the croaking in his throat, but he'd be damned if anyone knew how much this touched him. He continued to sit there, fingers sticky and sparkly as he looked at the little boy.

Gohan flushed, and twisted his fingers up behind his back.

"W-well, we had to make a present for someone important to us. S-so I picked you. A-And we have this field trip coming up, so I wanted to i-invite you?" Gohan's voice was barely above a whisper as he stared imploringly up at Junior.

Junior felt his heart combust. "I thought we worked on that stuttering," he grumbled instead, watching as Gohan ducked his head. Mentally kicking himself, Junior reached one hand out, placing his large hand atop Gohan's head. It practically dwarfed Gohan, weighing him down to the point that his knees buckled.

He attempted to give Gohan his best grin, which was pretty much a half-assed grimace.

"Thanks, kid." He hoped he didn't sound as choked up as he felt. "And I'll go on the field trip with you—if you want."

"I'd love that!"

Then Gohan had launched forward, arms wrapped around Junior's neck as he hung there. Junior actually laughed aloud, and allowed it, cradling Gohan's back as the little boy settled into his lap. The boy wiggled, grabbing the remote as he got comfortable.

Junior thought about telling him off, but decided that hell, the kid had been through a lot here lately. What with the recital, and general feelings in general—he needed a break. And Junior realized more than ever that he hated Goku for ever bringing that face to tears.

Soon cartoons were blasting out of the TV at a volume that hurt Junior's ears.

But he decided to stay quiet.

Chi Chi got home, hurrying up the steps as she emerged into the living room. She saw Junior, but he didn't turn to look at her. Furrowing her brow, she drew closer, footsteps light as a feather until she rounded the couch's edge.

She bit her lip.

Gohan lay curled up into the fetal position, fast asleep as the sound of cartoons blared out of the speakers. His hands lay curled up, wrapped tightly into the fabric of Junior's t-shirt. The Namekian himself was knocked out as well, antennae and head drooping down onto Gohan's forehead.

Quickly, she drew out her phone, and snapped a picture. Gohan was looking adorable and Junior… looked…

Chi Chi bit her lip.

He looked handsome. That was the appropriate word.

Junior's eyes opened, but he didn't move, giving her a rather pointed look.

"You're going to delete that," he whispered, to which Chi Chi gleefully shook her head.

"Oh, no. I don't think so. In fact, I think I'm going to get it printed, and framed."

"Do it, and you die."

"I'm so scared of the man snuggling my child." She smirked, and his cheeks turned purple.

"I'm not snuggling," he snapped, careful to remain still as he glared up at her. "I'm simply..."

"Cuddling? Is that word better for you?"

"Murder, woman."

"Whatever you say." She propped one hip out, and gave him a cheeky grin. "But you know, to murder me, you'll have to get up and get me." Chi Chi motioned at Gohan, who snuggled closer, clutching tightly at Junior. He heaved a sigh. "That's what I thought."

She came over and sat on the couch, then, reaching over to pat Gohan's head. Her fingers combed through his hair. He was always so peaceful when he slept…

"He invited me on a field trip," Junior mumbled, tilting his head to look at Chi Chi. His face was partially obscured by Gohan's hair, and it made her fingers halt in their process. She was dangerously close to the antennae hanging low.

"Oh… yes, he mentioned that…" Chi Chi bit her lips, retracting her hand. "He made sure to tell his father that." She shifted, and pulled back. "Did you agree?"

"I did."

"Mm." Chi Chi lapsed into silence, and sighed, pressing a hand to her face. Junior gave her a curious look. "Nothing. It's just…" she pursed her lips, and gave Gohan a pointed look. Even if he was asleep, he could possibly wake up. She wouldn't do that to him. "I can't talk about it right now."

Junior grunted, and shifted.

"My doors are always unlocked," he muttered, staring up at the ceiling as he said it.

Chi Chi smiled. "I know."

She decided to take Junior up on his offer later in the evening. Bulma came over and promised to look after Gohan. Chi Chi took that opportunity to slip over to Porunga's, up the stairs, into Junior's apartment. This time she'd actually texted him before appearing, though he'd told her he'd be back in his "solar port", whatever the hell that was.

It was evident, though, that it was very loud. A loud humming sounded radiated through the apartment, and it was far hotter than normal. Chi Chi tugged at her shirt collar, grateful that her hair was thrown up in a bun.

She made her way back to the origin of the noise, by passing Junior's room, where she could Xuanzuang had been relocated. This was now the part of the apartment she was unfamiliar with, but she the hum was getting louder.

A bright light spilled out onto the carpet. As Chi Chi drew closer, she saw that the room had no door. She peeked her head in, and immediately regret it.

Junior lay there, stretched out on the floor. The bright light that she'd seen was now bathing him in bright light, highlighting every bit of skin that he was showing. His shirt had apparently been forgone in that moment, revealing the pink patches of his abdomen. Chi Chi flushed as she saw that Junior was muscular—incredibly so.

Each bump and ridge protruded with sharp definition, framed by the v-cut that men killed to have, dipping down into low slung sweatpants. The pink disappeared within the waist band, and Chi Chi felt her mouth go dry at the thought of what lay beneath.

Junior blinked, catching sight of her. His ears twitched, and he waved a hand in her direction.

"Sorry, I'm almost done," he grunted, but Chi Chi was staring at his chest. There was sweat accumulating, dripping down his pecs. Rivulets spiraled down his impossibly large biceps—god, she felt faint.

"I'll wait in the living room," she mumbled, swiping a tongue over her lips. Junior gave her an odd look, but she took her leave before he could ask any questions. She rushed into the living room, taking a seat as she fanned at her face.

What in the hell had that been? Chi Chi had never had such a violent reaction—not even for Goku…. And oh God! Goku! She had just been checking out her surly, green alien neighbor! What was she thinking? She shook her head, desperate to clear the thoughts running around.

When Junior entered the room shortly after, he was fully clothed once more, and Chi Chi was able to remind herself that this was stupid green asshole that called her Milk, and was a constant pain in her ass.

She sucked in a deep breath.

He took his place on the couch beside her, and shifted uncomfortably. It was clear that he'd extended the invitation without really thinking about the ramifications of talking with her. Not that Chi Chi was any better… she'd come over here with no real plan in mind. The need to vent was there, but… with Junior?

Though, who else could she talk to? Bulma idolized her husband, she didn't want to destroy that, and Gohan was far too young to hear about any of this.

She squared up her shoulders.

"So, you know my husband?"

Junior snorted, crossing his legs as he regarded her. "I'd say that's a bit of an understatement."

Chi Chi sighed. "Look, if you're angry about your father, then—,"

"I've told you a hundred times, I don't give a rat's ass about that man." There was a tightness in his shoulders as he averted his gaze. "There are just extenuating circumstances revolving around that incident." He glared at a random fiber of the carpet.

Chi Chi decided to change the subject. "So—um, that 'solar port' thing. Is that what Gohan was talking about at those Namekian style diners?"

"Very astute, Milk," he gave her sarcastic applause, and she gritted her teeth.

"Don't be an ass."

"I think at this point it's hardwired into my DNA." Junior smirked at her mounting aggravation.

"I don't even know why I bothered to come," she huffed, and he motioned his head towards the door.

"By all means."

She pulled out her phone, humming thoughtfully as she pulled up her latest picture of him. "You know; I think Bulma would really appreciate this picture!"

"No!" Junior jerked forward, reaching to grab the phone out of her hands. "Not her!" His bulk was soon atop her, and Chi Chi wiggled backwards onto the arm of the couch.

"Not so fast, green bean—,"

"You didn't change my contact name?!"

"—you're going to start being nicer. Or else I will hit send, and Bulma will know just how cute you are."

Junior stared at her, looking a bit out of his element. "I'm not—I'm not cute," he snapped, and Chi Chi balked.

"I never said you were!"

"You just did!"

"Ugh! You know what you—,"

Junior's cell started ringing, and he glanced hurriedly down at his pocket. He held an impatient finger up at Chi Chi ("fuck you don't tell me to wait!"), before shooting up from his seat.

Chapter

"Lost"

"How the fuck did you lose a grown ass man?!" Junior's voice was a roar as he angrily paced his living room. He couldn't believe this. This was absurd! All those little green jackasses running around his father's house and no one noticed that the old bastard had disappeared?

On the other side of the call, Nail's voice was cool and collected. "Look—no one is willing to spend time with him. Dende is the only one that can handle him for any length of time, and even he has his limits."

Junior pinched the bridge of his nose, and gnashed his fangs together. He could feel Chi Chi's gaze lingering on him. He released a heavy breath, and attempted to collect himself. His temper, temper, temper.

"Where the hell was Kami during this? Wasn't he in charge of keeping an eye on him?"

Nail made a noise. "Kami has a life outside of his brother. You're his son, you come take care of him."

"Lose the attitude."

"I'd say make me, but you're hiding out in Dende's shop, right? So what good is that going to do?" Nail was getting aggravated, but Junior didn't care. He desperately wanted to punch him in his stupid green face.

"Just call me if you find him," Junior snapped, and hung up before Nail could give another snarky reply. He pocketed his phone, resisting the urge to chuck it across the room. In his aggravation, he ran a hand over his antennae, flinching at the sensitivity. It was a good thing he'd gotten into the solar port before this—he wouldn't have been able to handle this situation on low energy.

"What was that?" Chi Chi demanded, and Junior groaned. Of course she'd harass him.

"My father apparently ran away from home," he replied, pacing back and forth. "There's thirty of those goddamn morons taking up space in his mansion, but nobody fucking noticed that the whole reason they're there is gone!"

Chi Chi furrowed her brow. "Is it… all right for him to be out?"

"Who fucking knows?" Junior collapsed on the couch. This was frustrating as hell.

Chi Chi lifted a hand, and pressed it to his arm. "I'm sure they'll find him."

He snorted, but settled down. "The old shit just probably got out and picked a fight with someone. They'll beat him to a pulp and he'll get his sorry ass dragged back to the mansion."

Chi Chi had a conflicted look on her face.

"Yeah…" her voice trailed off.

He stared at her for a moment. "You know; I can't imagine someone like you with Son. I met him—he's a complete and utter dumbass. Probably couldn't find his way out of a wet paper bag. Didn't even know he had a wife or a kid."

"I've gotten that a lot… I suppose Goku and I met when we were rather young. My father knew Goku's sensei." Chi Chi stared at the wall, lost in her memories. "We were really young when I met. Dad thought it would be good for me to have someone to practice with, and then possibly end up with. It wasn't an arranged marriage, per se, but it might as well have been."

Junior gave a short nod. "Two kids shoved together by circumstance?" he gave a dry chuckle. "That makes sense. Though—doesn't explain why he didn't show up to the kid's recital."

"You didn't show up either."

He snarled. "I know."

Chi Chi gave him a strange look. "You did try to rectify it, I'll give you that…" she paused and bit her lip. "Honestly, I don't know how seriously Goku takes life. It's always about the next fight, the next thing to do. I know he loves me and Gohan but…"

Junior didn't entirely understand that. If he had a kid like Gohan he'd probably never leave. The kid was smart as a whip, and pretty good company when it came to it. He had to be, for Junior to tolerate his presence.

"I think it's a Saiyan thing," Chi Chi muttered wistfully. "There's so much we don't know about alien physiology, but I did look into Saiyans. They were a warrior race back before integrating into Earth's society."

"And Namekian's were gardeners, what's your point?"

"My point is that—maybe that's why Goku's always gone."

"My point was that I'm not a gardener. Reasons are not excuses. And you seem to be pretty unhappy—the kid, too." Junior watched as Chi Chi pulled a face. It looked suspiciously close to a crying face, and he was ready to bolt. He couldn't deal with his father disappearing and a crying woman. That was a bit much.

She recovered herself though.

"I suppose I am," Chi Chi finally said. "Though there's not much to do at this point. Gohan needs a father."

"He doesn't have one with the way things stand."

Chi Chi gave him a rather dirty look.

"You care about Gohan that much?"

"He's one of the few creatures on this Earth that I do care about."

Chi Chi gave a slow nod.

"You should come hang out someday!" Gohan and Videl were packing up to go home, each shoving their folders into their backpacks. "You could meet Mr. Junior!"

"Why would I want to meet some lame flower man?" Videl sneered, and shook her head. "You can keep that to yourself. The only Namekians that are cool are the Demon King and Ma!" She pumped her fist. "I can't wait for my birthday!"

"My mom said I could come," Gohan supplied helpfully. He swung the straps up over his shoulders, ready to go. "And I'm sorry I couldn't think of a super hero name…" A pout spread over his features, but Videl gave him a reassuring pat.

"It's fine… you really should think of one, though! You're half-Saiyan, aren't you? They're supposed to be really good fighters, so you gotta help me defeat evil." Videl pinched her chin, and shook her head.

"Wait… Saiyan… Sai…. I know!" Gohan grabbed Videl's shoulders, and swung her around happily. The girl stiffened up, face bewildered as she was man-handled. "Saiyaman! I'll be the Great Saiyaman!" He then struck a pose, both arms locking into rigid positions as he pushed one foot out. "Isn't that cool?!"

Videl stared at him for a long moment. He began feeling self-conscious as his arms slowly drooped.

"That is possibly the most amazing name ever!" Videl cheered, falling into a similar pose beside him. "Ooo! I want to be Saiyawoman!"

"But you're not Saiyan!" Gohan argued.

Videl snorted. "I'm plenty strong enough. Anyways—our names have to match!"

"Fine," Gohan grumped. "But now we don't have any super outfits…"

"You ready to talk about the Colds?" Bulma asked, seated on the kitchen counter while Vegeta gorged himself on Bunny's cooking. He gave Bulma startled look, breadsticks stuffed in his mouth.

He started to speak around the food, but Bulma held up a hand in disgust.

"Sir, please control all of that."

"Fuhhck youf," Vegeta muttered, chewing each stick as he glared at Bulma. He swallowed loudly, and flexed his shoulders. "Why the hell are you asking about them? —it's none of your business."

"Call it personal interest?" Bulma played with the ends of her now short hair. "We've always done business with them, but I don't have any data on them. It says you were adopted—," there was a warning growl but she ignored it, "—by them. That's it, though. I've tried researching both brothers and Papa Cold. Nothing. Nada. Zilch."

"You should keep it that way," he replied, getting up from the table. "Being involved with the Colds will get you killed, and you'd better remember that."

"I'm already involved with them," she retorted, not liking his cryptic answers. Bulma didn't like to not know things. Knowing things was kind of her specialty.

"No. Your business is. I'm talking personal, one on one level. Those jackasses aren't to be trifled with." Vegeta shifted on his feet, a harried look flitting across his face.

"What about you? Didn't you grow up with them?"

"I grew up with one of them," Vegeta snapped, hands forming into fists. "And I'm not going to tolerate you shoving your nose into places it doesn't belong. If you have any self-preservation, you will not dig into anything related to the Colds." His head tipped down as he stared angrily down at a piece of tile. "I've had Freeza at my back my whole entire life. I know what the hell I'm talking about."

Bulma opened her mouth to say something else, but Vegeta was gone. He'd thrown something about the gym over his shoulder. She sighed, and leaned back. Talking to Vegeta was like running on a treadmill. No matter how much effort you put in, it never went anywhere.

She had so many questions burning a hole in her gut. This was so stupid! She just wanted to know who the hell these people were. If they were truly so awful, then why was Vegeta still up and walking?

Bulma bit her lip, and furrowed her brow. If Vegeta was involved with the Colds, and yet he was consistently hanging out here—almost as if he was hiding…

She didn't like that line of thought.

As always, reviews are loved!