This chapter is brought to you by Piccolo's weird boner
Chapter
"Hot Mama"
Chi Chi was rampaging through the Namek colony, snatching undergarments off of unsuspecting Namekians. Some of them were critically inspecting her unmentionables, while some were attempting to wear them, stuffing their ears inside of cups. A few, that obviously had knowledge of outside the colony, avidly avoided them.
Junior was following behind, grabbing from places that Chi Chi had missed. He was sliding through the crowd, far more agile than Gohan and Kami, who were quickly left behind. Chi Chi appeared to be in such a stupor of rage that even her motherly instincts were put on the backburner.
Junior was certain he'd never heard her say this many curse words.
"Milk, you're not going to get them all." He was embarrassed to admit that he was running out of breath trying to keep up with the exploding woman. She whirled on him, nostrils flared—though some of the effect was lost as they were both standing there staring at each other with undergarments dangling off of them.
Her face fell for a moment as she glared at him, before angrily snatching at him.
"Don't touch my panties!" she snarled, and Junior jutted his jaw out.
"Fine." He released them, all of the pieces fluttering to the ground.
Their eyes locked.
"Junior," she practically whispered, "you gonna pick those up?"
"I'm not supposed to touch them," he replied snidely.
"Junior."
"Milk."
With a screech, Chi Chi launched a rather ineffective kick into Junior's shin. He stared down at her, face calm as he arched one brow up.
"You get that out of your system?"
"… yes."
"Good." Junior came forward, and snatched Chi Chi. She squealed as he tossed her unceremoniously over his shoulder. Her curses echoed in his ears as Kami and Gohan finally joined them. "Old man, grab her shit."
"I CAN CARRY MY OWN SHIT!"
"No. Right now you're in time out." Junior shrugged his shoulders sharply, jolting Chi Chi. Gohan burst into laughter as Kami stooped, gathering up Chi Chi's clothing.
"Damn—you've already gathered quite a few," Tambourine floated down, and Chi Chi struggled more firmly in Junior's grasp, her limbs flailing.
"I'LL KILL HIM! JUNIOR, LET ME KILL HIM!"
"Ahhh, Junior—what a cute name, little brother. And what a feisty thing on your shoulder. Gotta appreciate that view from here."
Chi Chi gasped as Junior set her down. "What the fuck was that?!" he snarled, standing feral over Chi Chi's form. His shoulders hunched forward as his hands tightened into fists. "I'll fucking rip your spin out—,"
Chi Chi shoved Junior from behind, and he whirled to face her, startled by her red face.
"Milk—,"
"I am not here for you to defend," she snapped, twisting her head to where her eyes locked onto Tambourine. "And you, you little monster! What's the matter with you?!"
Tambourine gave her a dismissive look. "When you're not flipped upside down, the worst part of you is visible." He sighed, and fluttered about in the air. "Hey, brother? Do me a favor and make her go topsy turvy agai—,"
Chi Chi had stormed up, and before Junior could even react, she'd snatched Tambourine by the ankle, and yanked him down. Junior was startled, and lurched to cover Gohan's eyes. He clamped his fingers down, and stared in amazement as Chi Chi slammed Tambourine's body into the sidewalk.
Tambourine squawked as he ate asphalt, and Chi Chi towered over him.
"Now, you little freak," she snarled, slamming a foot into his belly, "do you want to tell me why the hell you're terrorizing us?" He gurgled something incomprehensible, and Chi Chi dropped, her knee pressing into his sternum as she held a fist up, cocked and ready.
Junior stared. Holy shit.
Holy shit!
Junior realized with a jolt of unique clarity that as Chi Chi slammed her knuckles into the unfortunate sap's face, that he was in love. It hit like a lightning bolt, crashing into his conscious in a way that he hadn't expected as he gripped tight to Gohan, keeping the little boy from seeing his—hot—mother caving in a skull.
His face was flushed, watching her precise motions. To think he hadn't taken her seriously when they'd sparred. And perhaps Tambourine might have stood a chance in a head-on match, but with Chi Chi jerking him from mid-air like that—he'd never stood a chance.
"Now," Chi Chi snarled, her forearm pressed against Tambourine's throat. Her messy hair was tumbling down, and her face was rather fierce. Junior understood now. He hadn't had a crush on that old lady—but he certainly was responding to that.
You'll want to kiss them.
He wondered vaguely if she'd punch him, and whether or not he'd like it. That sounded far better than a kiss right now.
Tambourine's voice was croaking, but he finally managed to get something out. "I—will," he spluttered, and Chi Chi sat back the slightest bit, still applying pressure with her knee. Junior stared at her lithe figure atop his practically comatose brother.
"You will what?" Chi Chi asked, and Junior was still staring.
"No," Tambourine spat, "the will." His sneer was nasty as it turned on Junior. He stared back, startled. A will? But Tambourine had taken the opportunity to shove Chi Chi off of him. Something tiny and shimmering was tossed down, plopping into Chi Chi's lap as he took off.
"Junior…" Chi Chi glanced at him, eyes wide. "Why are you grabbing the telephone pole?"
"I'm covering Gohan's—," Junior whirled around, and saw that his hand was gripped tight around a pole, and he flushed. To his side, Gohan and Kami were staring at him. The old man still had his hands full, but Gohan had pushed his face into the cloth, hiding him from the violence.
Junior jerked his hands back close to him, face flushed purple as he muttered something underneath his breath. She stood up then, and walked over, dangling the keys in front of Junior's face with a wide smirk. His stomach felt a bit weird as she jingled the keys once more, and he reached for them, almost completely numb.
"That takes care of that particular mess," she mumbled, and her face seemed concerned as she looked at him. "Junior, you're… smiling, and it's seriously freaking me out."
"I've never seen you grin like that," Gohan giggled, and Junior shot him an irritated scowl. "That's more like it!"
"Stuff it, all of you," he snarled, and stuffed the keys into his pocket. "Now we can get the hell out of here."
"Well…" Gohan frowned, shifting on his feet, "couldn't we stay a little longer? Kami promised me he'd pull out some old manuscripts for me to look over…"
Junior could already tell that Chi Chi was melting, her hands coming up to clasp as she got that doe-eyed look whenever she saw her boy. He pressed his eyes clothes, internally cursing the Son family for the weakness that they'd brought on him. Then he was reminded that this would be more time spent around Kami… he hated that thought, and opened his mouth to immediately shut down this request—
But Chi Chi was staring at him, all viciousness gone, with her and Gohan holding parallel looks of pleading. He sighed, rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms. "Fine," he spat out. He wasn't going to enjoy this, however, and he wanted to make sure everyone knew.
Gohan cheered, eagerly hugging Gohan. Despite his protestations, he soon found that he had his arms full with the little boy, who pressed his cheek to Junior's. He huffed, but allowed it. He turned on his heel to start walking back, as Chi Chi stepped beside him, her hand warm against his bicep as she spoke to Gohan.
Kami came filing after them, still looking rather lost as he balanced Chi Chi's undergarments. The woman flushed, and seemed to realize, hurriedly taking some of the load off the old man as he fumbled to keep his cane steady. Gohan looked marginally guilty, until Junior tossed him up, allowing the boy to sit atop his shoulders. He was squealing with joy, careful not to grasp Junior's antennae as he situated himself.
Junior chuckled, his hands steadying the boy as they headed back to the house.
"Oh, honey, a wedding!" Bunny was more perky than usual, her blonde hair bouncing as she bounded to her daughter, wrapping her up in a hug. "Veggie-dear told me all about it!" And there he was, Veggie-dear himself, seated at the table with half of a steak stuffed in his face. Even so, he still somehow managed to smirk at her.
"So, you told my parents?" Bulma huffed, glaring at him over her mother's shoulders. He swallowed his steak and chuckled, a rather mean-spirited look on his face.
"Dear, I can't wait to plan the wedding, my goodness!" Bunny released her daughter in favor of clapping, shuttling back over to where she had more food going. A disgusted Bulma plopped down at the table. She was sweaty, and her jumpsuit was coated in motor oil, but she found she didn't care.
"You look and smell gross," Vegeta offered, scooting his plate pointedly away from her dirty elbows that pressed against the table.
She flipped him the bird. "Stuff it. I was working on Chi Chi's damn car again. That thing's a menace—I mean, I can't fix it, and I'm literally the best person I know." She groaned, rifling greasy fingers through her short hair. She was so glad that she'd gotten rid of the long locks. As beautiful as they had been, this was much nicer when it came to work.
"Your inadequacies aside, I must remind you that you have yet to court me properly." He sneered at her appearance. "Though obviously that won't be happening today."
"Vegeta," she ground out, her teeth pressing together, "you're starting to work my nerves more than usual."
He sniffed in disdain as Bunny brought over several more plates loaded down with food. Bulma reached to grab one, just to have her hand smacked away by an offended Vegeta.
"Your hands are filthy, woman! You're not touching my food!"
"You are a little gross," Bunny tittered, and Bulma's eyes bulged as she lifted her face to the ceiling. What had she done to deserve this? Had she done something in the previous life? Was it her complete avoidance of religion that was biting her in the ass due to some cosmic deity's way of retribution? Couldn't she just say a few Hail Mary's and have Vegeta disappear from her life?
"Look, I've been working all day, unlike a certain lazy bum, so I feel like I deserve some of that food." Bulma leaned over to snatch a plate, but Vegeta spit directly onto the plate. In indignation, Bulma screeched and retracted, staring, flabbergasted, at the Saiyan.
He smirked. "Come to dinner like a respectable queen, and we'll see."
Bulma paused, tilting her head. "Woah, woah. Wait a minute. Queen?" she demanded, and Vegeta cocked a brow.
"I am the heir to the Saiyan throne," he reminded her, talking as if she were particularly stupid.
"Well, yeah, you announce it every two seconds. I just didn't put much stock in it."
He was clearly offended. "I am the prince, soon to be king with your help. Naturally, you would be made queen."
"Vegeta, listen… we're not on whatever hellhole you Saiyans came from. I don't really think your title means shit here, so—," she was cut off as Vegeta slammed his fist into the table, rocking the whole thing. She jerked backwards as Vegeta violently flipped the plate he'd been working on over.
He left abruptly, and Bulma was left staring at the mess. Bunny turned, her hand at her mouth as she let loose a little 'oh my!'
"Bulma," Bunny chided, "you shouldn't antagonize him like that!" Great, and now she was being lectured. "He's rather proud of his lineage, you know? Veggie-dear tells me all about it, all the time."
Bulma blinked. It hadn't occurred to her, really, that Vegeta would talk to anyone but her. It made her stomach turn with something she couldn't identify, and she stared at the doorway that he'd stormed out of.
"Make sure you apologize," Bunny continued, shaking her head sadly. "It's not good for newly-weds to fight!"
Fake newly-weds, Bulma wanted to protest. They weren't really a couple. Not that she really wanted to broadcast that little nugget, she supposed.
"Fine, mom, I'll go apologize to him," Bulma finally relented. Or, at the very least, she supposed she could talk to him. "But first…" she greedily snagged plates, pulling them towards her as she happily ate her dinner. No insults, no quips—and she skipped the spit plate, deftly knocking its contents into the trashcan as she enjoyed her meal.
Chapter
"Reaction"
"Can I help with your gardening?" Gohan approached Kami, where the old man was bent double over a little bed of earth. He gave the Namekian a huge smile, and was quickly rewarded with Kami offering him a spade. He'd already previously told Kami about his assistance at Porunga's Post, and he was rather grateful to be trusted with this.
"Look," Kami said suddenly, drawing Gohan to his feet. He led him to a strange plant that he couldn't recognize. It was tall—standing a whole foot higher than Gohan. Where a flower would be was a giant bulbous piece that seemed to shift, its waxy coating producing tiny little hairs that shifted in the wind. "This plant is from the planet Namek."
"Wow…" Gohan breathed. He wanted to touch it, and to learn more about it. He could practically feel it burning inside of him.
"Yes… we lost quite a few of our plants back when Porunga's Post here set fire," Kami said, his face melancholic as he sighed. His hands gripped tighter to his cane, and Gohan gave him a sympathetic glance. "It was a sad day. Dende certainly has a wonderful touch when it comes to our stock."
Gohan frowned. "Why'd the humans do it…?"
"I don't know," Kami responded, looking to the little boy. "You are young for such things, but… sometimes, people are not that nice."
"Did they…" Gohan's brow puckered, and he thought of what Mr. Junior had told him. About humans disliking him and mocking him. "Did they do it because you guys are aliens?"
Kami nodded. "Yes… but it's all right, young one. We did not lose any of our people. It hurt us because we lost pieces of our heritage, but nothing more."
"That's not fair, though!" Gohan interjected, his hands tightening into fists. "Just because they don't like you, they ruined your stuff? And something so important…" Kami placed a calming hand onto Gohan's shoulders, drawing his distressed gaze upwards, into his warm smile.
"Don't fret, small one," Kami's thumb ran a soft circle through the layers of fabric. "It is not your war to fight."
"But—well," Gohan broke off, face flushing. "What if I wanna be a Namek?"
Kami looked startled at that. "I'm sorry?"
"Well, I… Mr. Junior's kind of like my dad," Gohan mumbled, twisting his fingers together. His eyes flitted between the ground and Kami's gaze, seeking approval somewhere. "So, maybe I could be part Namek?"
Kami stared for a moment longer, before he burst into laughter. Gohan was startled, as the old man bent double, his entire frame shaking with the effort. He couldn't help it—Gohan pouted, his arms crossing angrily over his chest.
"I'm—oh, young one, I'm—ha, I'm sorry. I do not mean to offend you," Kami was attempting to calm himself, his lips trembling as he held back any further laughter. "It just caught me off guard, you understand? I'm afraid I can't make you half-Namek, just because you would like… however… you truly view Mr. Junior as a father figure?"
Gohan gulped. "Well… yeah, but… don't tell him I said that, okay?" He glanced nervously towards the house. "He can be a bit moody sometimes."
"Of course, little one. But what of your real father?"
Gohan shrugged, his head drooping. "I love my dad… but... he's not really around. Mom always says that he loves us, he just doesn't know how to express it."
Kami's smile grew wistful. "Yes, I've known people like that in my life… My brother, for starters."
Gohan thought for a moment, before he jerked back, eyes wide as he stared at Kami. "I just realized… you're… you're Mr. Junior's uncle, so…"
Kami chuckled, and nodded. "Yes, young one. I am Piccolo Senior's brother."
"But you're not scary at all!" Gohan blurted out, before realizing that was probably rude. He swiftly covered his mouth, but Kami waved amicably at him.
"Well, one is not their family. After all, you don't find your Junior scary, do you?"
"Sometimes…" Gohan admitted. "There was one time, where I was real scared of him… Piccolo and Mr. Junior both fought my dad."
Kami was surprised. "This I did not know. I must admit I didn't much keep up with my brother's fights, nor Junior's. I am not a very violently inclined man."
"Me neither," Gohan huffed, sticking his tongue out. "If Tambourine wasn't a jerk, I'd be upset with mom. But, I guess he kind of deserved the butt-kicking he got."
Kami grinned. "Yes, indeed, young one… now, you mentioned your father. Then perhaps you and Junior share similar aspects there. My brother is not so good at showing his emotions."
Gohan grimaced. "I can't imagine him having very many. His fights were awful."
"I didn't say he was a good man," Kami corrected, "merely that he has feelings. Even the worst of people have thoughts and lives outside of their victims. It doesn't excuse them, certainly, but it is an inevitable fact."
Gohan made a noise of assent, though he remained unconvinced. "I guess. But my dad isn't like Piccolo—he's just… not around." His shoulders slumped forward, and something flitted across Kami's face. Something undefinable.
"Little one…" Kami knelt forward, encircling Gohan into a hug. The little boy gratefully accepted, burrowing his face into Kami's robes. The smell of fertilizer was soothing as he clung to the old man's frail body. "Perhaps you and your Mr. Junior truly have more in common then you could imagine."
Junior was pacing in the kitchen, and Chi Chi watched him go, sipping at water from her mug. Ever since Gohan had gone out to help Kami, Junior had been increasingly agitated, his angry glares were hot enough to melt the glass he was peering through.
"Are you done spying yet?" Chi Chi asked. It had been funny to watch him go at first—something to laugh at—but now it was getting old. She was certain he was going to leave a rut in Kami's kitchen if he kept it up.
"I'm not spying," Junior snapped, not even breaking stride.
Chi Chi cocked an eyebrow up. "Okay. What would you call this, then?" she waved a hand at his general self, earning her a scathing look.
"I'm keeping watch, so that old freak doesn't get any ideas."
"What ideas could he possibly get?" Chi Chi asked in exasperation. She leaned back against her chair. She was getting worn out just watching him. Her workout for the day had been handled by pummeling Tambourine into the ground. The little freak had deserved it, and her only regret was that Gohan had been present. He didn't seem too bothered by it, though, as everyone had been too startled by Junior's own reaction.
He'd been staring at Chi Chi in what looked like rapture. His eyes had appeared out of focus, a goofy grin that she never would have expected on him splitting his face in half as he clung desperately to a telephone pole. It was the only time that she'd ever seen him… excited?
"Kami's a desperate bastard, and I wish he was holed up somewhere dying instead of my father." Junior's voice was nasty, and Chi Chi was startled by his harsh words.
"Junior!" she reprimanded. "You're lucky I don't know your middle name, or you'd be hearing it with a sound finger-wag!" Her cup was set down in favor of rising up from her seat. It seemed like a mother's job was never done. "You don't mean that! Kami cares for you!"
Junior snorted in derision. "Milk, you can't pronounce my middle name. And Kami only cares about himself. This is all just some desperate grab because he knows he can't—," he broke off, and threw his hands in the air. "I don't have to explain myself to you."
"You don't have to," Chi Chi agreed, her brow knitting together. "But you're going to, mister. What could Kami possibly have done to you to make you hate him? He's been nothing but kind since we got here! I know that people change, but I can't imagine that little old man out there ever doing anything intentionally harmful."
"You're forgetting that little old man," he mocked, throwing air quotes up, "is my father's twin. He'd stooped and wrinkled now, but he wasn't always."
That shook her, momentarily. She knew the Demon King was particularly large—inhumanly so. "Well…" she didn't like the knowing smirk on Junior's face. "Either way, he's not a fighter, right?"
"No," Junior scowled. "He's always been this pathetic."
"So? What has he done?"
"He used me," Junior snarled, arms crossing over his barrel chest.
"Used… you?"
"Yes, he used me. Because he's a selfish bastard. I never asked for him to be in my life—he just shoved himself into it." Junior was snarling as he took up his pacing once more. "Ever since I can remember he's always been there with that stupid smile on his face! Every time I got in trouble at school, he was there. Every time I got in a fight! When I went to jail! The school recital! He was always fucking there, smiling like a moron!" His lips were peeled back, and Chi Chi stared.
"It just… sounds like he cared for you?" Chi Chi was wondering if there was a piece to the puzzle she was missing. It almost sounded like… well, hell, it sounded like how Junior was to Gohan. She didn't want to draw that parallel just yet, as Junior had whirled on her, his gargantuan form seeming to take up even more space in his fit.
"He used me as a replacement for all the eggs he couldn't have," Junior spat.
Chi Chi blinked. "Wha—,"
"He's barren," Junior shouted, and the door clicked open. "The old bastard couldn't cough up an egg even if he wanted to!"
She clenched her eyes closed to avoid the hurt look that flickered across Kami's face as he stood there in the doorway. When she was finally brave enough to open them, she could see that Junior's own face mimicked her own—frozen in place with a look of fixated horror.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," Kami's voice sounded normal, if a little forced, as he passed Junior and Chi Chi to get to the fridge. "I'm sure it was quite rude of me, it's just that—oh, little Gohan wanted some water. He's working quite hard in the garden." He turned, giving them each a strained smile, two bottles in his shaking hands. His cane remained outside, and Chi Chi could see that the steps were laboring him.
Junior fixed his expression, returning to his usual apathetic self as he regarded the old man.
"Nothing to say?" Junior prompted, and Chi Chi wanted to punch him. He was antagonizing him!
Kami was already on his way out, before turning to give a blissful smile. "Certainly not, nephew. Please, continue your conversation with Mrs. Son. I'll take my leave." He was gone, then, and before Chi Chi could say anything, Junior was storming out of the room.
She chased him outside, where she saw he was jamming his keys into the motorcycle they'd finally been able to retrieve.
"What the hell are you doing?" Chi Chi demanded, but Junior ignored her, swinging one leg over the machine. "Hello?! I'm talking to you, you know—,"
Junior hunched his shoulders, glaring down at the sparkling new paint job. He sat there, before making a jerking motion with his head. Chi Chi stared, and realized what he wanted.
"Are you nuts?!" she shrieked, her voice rising so hysterically that she saw Junior visibly flinch from it. Good. "First of all, you don't have the proper licensing for that," she began ticking off on her fingers, "second of all, you have no safety gear, and thirdly, isn't this thing inappropriate for the Colony? And your psychotic brother is out flying around!"
"Milk," Junior finally butted in, his face looking particularly grim as he fixated his gaze on her. "Either you get on this bike, and fuss at me like the spazz you are, or I'm going to go off alone and do something I'll regret."
Chi Chi frowned. "I'm not a spazz."
"You certainly are. Get on the bike."
"Gohan—,"
"Is with the wrinkled old fuck, unfortunately." Junior's hands tightened around the bars. "Now. Get on. The damn bike."
"You're really rude," Chi Chi said pointedly, crossing her arms as she approached. "And I'm only going because of all the things you've done, arson isn't on the list, and I'd like to keep it that way."
Junior sneered. "How kind of you."
"Have you driven one of these before?" Chi Chi was still dilly-dallying, and Junior audibly groaned.
"Yes. My father paid for the classes. Bastard wouldn't buy me one until now but—," he shrugged, and then seemed to slip into his own thoughts. Sighing, Chi Chi lifted a leg up, the Namekian clothes incredibly uncomfortable for this. Once seated, she tentatively placed her hands in front of her, grasping his stupid cape.
Something tingled in her—this was something she'd never done. She was going to ride on a motorcycle with a Veritable Bad Boy. Romance novel titles came tumbling into her mind as her cheeks heated up at the very idea. Every time a man took a girl out on a bike, things were prone to happen. Sure, all of those bad boys were strangers, and weren't giant green alien nerds that were practically members of the family, but…
The motor thrummed to life, and Chi Chi jumped. She couldn't tell if Junior laughed, as it was near impossible over the noise. He revved the engine again, giving her one last chance to back out. She held tight, so Junior hit the gas, shooting them out of Kami's driveway and onto the road.
Bulma wasn't surprised to find Vegeta in the gym. He was furiously slamming his fists into some poor punching bag—though, Bulma had manufactured these herself. After Chi Chi had busted one and dislodged it, along with a chunk of Bulma's ceiling, she'd taken it upon herself to build something muscle-proof.
"Hey." Bulma entered. She was rewarded with a snarl as Vegeta slammed a rather hefty hit to the bag. The chain creaked dangerously. "I just patched my ceiling, could you chill?"
He grasped the bag, stopping its course. His gaze upon her was rather disdainful.
"Didn't I tell you to avoid my presence when you were so disgusting?"
"So, you obviously can't be feeling that bad if you're still insulting me." Bulma strode in. It was true. She'd come here directly after eating, not bothering with a shower or change yet. She wasn't going to get dressed up for his highness, especially since she'd seen him just yesterday at 4 am in spandex shorts screaming about the toilet being clogged (four hours later and two family meetings had finally revealed that it was indeed Vegeta's fault).
"You can't tell me you're here to apologize," Vegeta scoffed. "I'm not a moron."
Bulma blinked. "All right, fine. My mom told me that I should say I'm sorry or whatever, but I don't really want to. Not my style, you know?" She winked at him, to which he pointedly turned his nose up. "C'mon, hubby. Weren't you throwing our marriage around before? What happened?"
"You insulted my pride," he retorted.
"Which is surprisingly easy. For someone with such a big ego, you don't do much to hide it." Bulma flopped down on the floor. She was exhausted. Between Chi Chi's stupid vehicle, and her stupid roommate, she wasn't going to catch a break. She wondered how Chi Chi was doing in the Namek colony—probably not any better. From what Bulma recalled of her research, Nameks were some real sticks in the mud.
Vegeta stared at her. "So. You're not going to apologize—then what do you want?"
"An explanation, mostly." She shrugged. "If you're willing."
His gaze rested on her for a long moment, obviously calculating the risk factors. He finally seemed to decide that she posed no threat, and cautiously came forward, joining her on the floor. He was still attempting to look princely, though, and she chuckled at his antics.
"Look, big guy—it's just you and me," Bulma said, swishing a finger between their persons. "So how about you relax, and drop the attitude?"
His mouth curved down into a frown. "I must maintain my dignity. In spite of your ridiculous taunts, I do intend to lead my people one day."
"Yeah, yeah. You keep going on about your people. But don't they all belong to the Cold family? I don't have enough friends to marry all of 'em out, you know that, right?"
He snorted. "Of course I don't expect that. I plan to abolish the Cold family in its entirety."
She gave a short, bark of a laugh. "Okay. Listen. They're huge monoliths in this world. There's no friggin' way you're doing anything about them! They have almost as much money as my family—and really, I'm only counting the legal stuff they claim on taxes. Who knows what other shit they have going on?"
"Slavery," Vegeta pointed out, tone far too even for the topic at hand. "Cock-fighting, essentially. You humans practically send yourselves into a frenzy when you think of animals pitted against one another. Surely a little exposure will ruin the Cold family. As my wife, and soon to be queen of my people, I assume you'll be leading that charge."
"Not likely," Bulma replied. His face was lit with rage, and she held up a hand. "Chill. First of all, I'll be a queen in name, sure—but we're not really getting married. I mean, you could technically leave me for another Saiyan or human, or any other species." Ow. She hadn't expected that to hurt so badly. "Just, do me a favor? Make it humanoid. I want some of my pride intact."
She watched Vegeta shift, and his tail brushed her knuckles. She found it oddly comforting, yet with the subject matter… Bulma swallowed. No way in hell was she going to let some fake marriage get to her. She'd been through this before. Just put on a pretty smile for the cameras and then dump them out the door the second you get.
Bulma tilted her head. This time, though… she didn't really want to see her faux-husband go.
"Anyways, aside from that, my family relies on the Cold family." She gritted her teeth as Vegeta flared up once more. "That's going to change, of course, when I take over. But who knows when that'll be? My dad's got some longevity to him, that's for sure. And he'll be senile or in the grave before he hands over Capsule Corp. This is his baby." She rolled her eyes. "One time he was half asleep, I tried to tell him I loved him, and he whispered sweet nothings about the company."
"Very endearing," Vegeta sneered.
"And aside from my family," she pressed on, "I'm more worried that your case won't get looked on favorably." She pulled her knees to her chest. "I mean, I dug back a bit, and every time a case has even remotely come up against Freeza, he's always managed to prove that it's for a Saiyans 'own good'." She felt her stomach turn in revulsion, and saw something flicker across Vegeta's face. "He'll dig up some poor Saiyan that's not all there, drag them into court, let them act an ass, and then simper and buy the jury."
Vegeta's lips compressed.
Bulma felt guilty, now. If she hadn't felt bad about prodding Vegeta, she certainly felt bad for destroying the illusion he'd held in his head. He'd probably had many fantasies where he was able to usurp or completely dethrone Freeza. Sighing, she scooted closer to him. Her shoulder bumped his, and she saw him turn.
He was startled at her close proximity, but for once he didn't lash out. It wasn't defeat in his gaze, but she could certainly see traces of disheartenment. Her eyes flickered over him, scars peppering his face, his firm dark brows set over matching eyes.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't know why you're so adamant on being a prince but…"
"I'm adamant on it because I am one!" Vegeta snarled, his nose almost touching hers as he bared his teeth in her face. "Woman, are you not getting this into your thick skull? I am Prince Vegeta, of King Vegeta—my great-great-great-great grandfather is the one who commandeered the flight that brought my people to Earth to stay. It is he that was here when your petty alliance was signed that confined us all to this cursed rock heap."
Bulma leaned back, staring at him. "Wait… wait, wait, wait. You're like… seriously royalty?"
Vegeta's jaw dropped. "What did you think I've been talking about this whole time?!"
"I really just thought you were on an ego trip from hell, to be honest," Bulma shrugged.
Vegeta looked offended once more, and he sharply turned from her. "My ring had better be magnificent," he growled petulantly, and Bulma placed a hand over her mouth, stifling a giggle.
"You know, we're not really getting married, Veggie-dear," she teased, fluttering her lashes. "I don't technically have to get you anything."
"The marriage is real to me, Earth woman," Vegeta replied, turning to glare at her. Bulma paused, suddenly feeling caught. She sat there, meeting his gaze. Bulma Briefs wasn't much of a blusher. Hell, she'd offered her body once to Ma Junior himself once when she'd been younger, and hadn't even broken a sweat.
Yet, right then, Bulma could feel her neck heating up. She gulped, and eased into a laugh.
"Sure, sure."
"And woman—don't call me Veggie-dear," he turned his face from her, presumably to hide it. "That's specifically for your mother."
Freeza was murderous, his tail swinging behind him as Mai, Pilaf, and their mutt cowered beneath him. He could feel a muscle spasm forming as he paced. His nostrils flared, and he longed for one of his Saiyans to have accompanied him if only so he could let out this rage. He thought fleetingly of slashing open another scar on the woman's face, but…
"How dare you morons," he seethed, "let him do this. I need him out cold, not out purchasing inane things!" His tail slapped against the carpet, and he watched as all three shook in place. Mai seemed to fear it worst of all, her finger tightening against Pilaf's arm. His most recent attack had left her face split open, pink and raw.
"I'm sorry, sir," she mumbled, stumbling over her words. "He—well, I… I forgot to give him one of his doses."
"I'm aware of your incompetence, thank you," Freeza snarled. "And perhaps you three are not fit for this job alone. Such a simple task, I thought, for sure even you couldn't mess up." He reached up to his earpiece, and pressed the button. "Zarbon, come to Piccolo's mansion immediately." The green man began stammering over himself, but Freeza quickly ended the call. He wasn't in the mood to hear blubbering.
Zarbon's most recent failure had sent him into a cataclysmic mood as well. The moron had apparently been unable to contact Bulma Briefs again—not that that particular mission had ever gone well in the first place. Freeza had severely miscalculated how the Briefs woman would handle herself in front of a man she found attractive.
His lips pressed into a thin line.
He need Vegeta back. He was sorely losing to his brother, and Cooler was certainly making it well known. Never one for family functions, Cooler had suddenly begun making appearances to Freeza and Cold's typical dinners and wine meet-ups. He'd even show up to what used to be their father-son bonding over choosing new fighters. He'd appear and make snide remarks the whole evening, until Freeza had to excuse himself to release some of his rage.
He'd always come back in the room, with Cooler giving him a smirk that said that he'd won.
It was a frustrating point in his life, and Freeza felt as if he were backed in a corner at every move. Now even his manipulation of the brain-dead Namek was collapsing in on itself. He needed more time to set up the fake bet, and if Piccolo were to regain consciousness, it would certainly not bode well. While not entirely there, the man would be certain to notice his bet placed wrong, and a large portion of his money gone with it.
He turned his back on the pathetic group behind him, and instead focusing on relaxing himself. It was hard to do—he was so used to having Vegeta at his side. The Saiyan had been a constant for him. Ever since he'd demanded him as a present, Freeza had Vegeta. The Saiyan wasn't a willing companion, that much was certain, but Freeza didn't expect real friends with his own position. He was far too important for that.
No, what he loved about Vegeta was the absolute loyalty he'd had in his best dog. A trained fighter, one practically fed from Freeza's own palm. His very first Saiyan.
Wretched thoughts, all in the past, that certainly did nothing for him now. Freeza cursed the Briefs family. Perhaps his next order of business would be to tackle them… yet he couldn't afford it right now. He'd have to fight his way back to the top of his father's favors before he was ever allowed to do something like that. Right now, though, he couldn't achieve that. Not with his low-level lackeys.
Practically steaming from his horns, Freeza stormed out of the room, not even paying attention to the Mai and Pilaf collapsing in relief after he'd left.
The wind whipped her face as they shot over now familiar roads. The one good thing coming of Tambourine stealing from her had been that she'd at least been able to explore the colony on an in-depth level. As they went barreling through the town, she watched as Namekians all around let loose alarmed noises, or just in general look dissatisfied.
Junior paid them no mind, however. Chi Chi hung tight as he drove, using her elbows to press down on his stupid cape. It was her first time on a motorcycle, and it was freaking her out to have something constantly flapping into her eyes. In her head, she just kept mentally running over the likelihood of them taking a tumble, and spilling out onto concrete. And with no helmets on, Chi Chi could just imagine the carnage.
What if they had to scoop her brain up while Gohan watched? What if Goku showed up at her funeral with one last little two fingered wave before leaving Gohan behind? Who would watch him? Bulma! She was hardly able to watch the grown ass man she had. Junior would probably die with Chi Chi—leaving Gohan an orphan. The system was cruel, too, she'd read. What if he was put with horrible cannibals that used him to find them victims?
She was practically in tears when Junior jerked sharply around a corner. He stopped, turned off the bike, but planted his feet. He began slowly pushing forward, glancing around him.
"Get off the bike," he murmured, and Chi Chi did as commanded—if only to be free of her horrid daydreams. She stood on the sidewalk as Junior parked the bike, stuffing the keys into his pockets. "Come on. And be quiet."
She furrowed her brow, but followed after. They were in front of a house that—to her—looked like every other house. It was that cream color, with plants covering every inch of it. Junior went running across the lawn, his footsteps light. Chi Chi followed more reluctantly, glancing around. She didn't know where they were, or what they were doing.
"Milk," Junior hissed, already by a window. "Would you hurry the hell up?"
"I don't see why I should rush," she grumbled, coming to a halt beside him. "Hey," she began feeling suspicion creeping up around her, "what the heck are you doing?"
"Just—sit tight okay? I need to get some things."
"Whose house is this?" she demanded.
"My cousin's," Junior replied, not turning to look at her as he jimmied open the window. She opened her mouth to protest, but he was already pulling himself up and into the building. She gulped, and glanced nervously around. There didn't seem to be anything nearby. She could feel her heart practically palpitating.
Chi Chi wondered exactly how many cousins Junior had. Were Namekian families notoriously large…?
Soon Junior's large form came through the window once more, but Chi Chi was startled by his attire. He had a leather jacket she didn't recognize on, and had a giant paper bag filled with stuff. He hit the dirt, and Chi Chi recognized a stupid band t-shirt had replaced his Namekian garb. He still had on the ridiculous purple pants, though, just with Doc Martens stuffed underneath. His smirk appeared as she stared at him.
"We made a detour so you could have an outfit change!" she squawked. He shushed her, much to her chagrin.
"Go climb in a fridge Milk."
"Excuse me…?"
"To chill."
Chi Chi stared at him, her face completely devoid of any emotion. He didn't seem to notice, and instead was walking around to the back of the house. Chi Chi threw her hands in the air and followed. Junior led her up to a rusty old pick-up truck, which he unlocked and clambered into.
Chi Chi frowned.
"Get in," Junior snapped, shutting the car door abruptly in her face. With her jaw jutted out, Chi Chi complied, climbing into the seat. He was fumbling in the driver seat, jamming a set of keys into the ignition as he hastily threw the paper bag in the back. She heard it thunk, and realized whatever was in it was presumably heavy.
It was as they were pulling out of the yard, Junior making a more devious face then she'd ever seen before, that Chi Chi felt her suspicious feeling develop into very sincere doubt.
"Junior," she spoke up quietly.
"Yes?"
"I've got this feeling—and well, I sure do hope I'm wrong."
"Yeah?"
"It's just that. I get the feeling that this truck isn't yours."
"Hm."
"And that the house wasn't your cousin's."
"I can assure you that it was my cousin's house," he replied helpfully, focused on the road. Chi Chi frowned.
"Do you have a good relationship with the cousin?"
"Debatable."
"Junior!" She screeched, whirling in her seat. "I came with you so you avoided illegal activities!"
He glanced at her, face bland. "Milk, relax. It's fine. Just sit back."
"No way!" Chi Chi fumbled at her seatbelt. She twisted wildly around, thinking of an escape route. What if the police caught them?! She couldn't ensure Gohan got to a good school if she were in jail! Or worse—prison! Suddenly the car felt suffocating, like it was over a hundred degrees.
"Milk!" Junior's voice was a snarl, one of his hands reaching out to grasp her shoulder. He pushed back on her lightly, pressing her against the cushioning of the truck's seat. "Relax. You're overreacting. I wouldn't do anything that would get you into trouble." His voice softened, his eyes still focused on the road. "I wouldn't do that to Gohan."
She sucked in a deep breath. "Fine… then what the hell are we doing?"
"You mentioned in the past that you never got to be a teenager," he threw her one of his crooked grins, and Chi Chi heard distant bells in her head. She loved those—not quite smiles. Goku had one of his own, just a bit softer around the edges. "Here you go, Milk. Tonight you'll get to be crazy and impulsive."
"I'd say thanks, but I know that this wasn't your intention when you invited me along."
He chuckled. "You're not wrong. But, since you're in for the ride—why not?"
"So where are we going." Streetlights disappeared as she realized that Junior was going off road. The wheels hit dirt, and he went rampaging outwards. Far in the distance she could see what looked like the wall. Something clicked in her brain.
"To the edge of the colony," he replied, though she'd figured it out at that point. There was something odd about it, the wall slowly rising up. They'd left the city behind them, yet this monolith lay ahead, shrouded in late night fog that the headlights cut through.
"Is it safe…?" her voice was barely above a whisper.
"There's nothing out here," Junior assured her. "Some trees, some shrubs." He shrugged. "That's it. And as you can see, not much of that."
"Why are there no buildings here?"
"The colony sustains itself on what it needs. This exists in case the population ever increases." Junior pressed the brakes, the tires struggling a bit over the slick grass. He stopped, the headlights shining brightly on the giant expanse of brick. He clicked the stick in reverse, and turned the truck in a full circle, to where the bed now faced the wall, and Chi Chi was left staring into the gloom as he cut the truck off.
She waited until Junior got out before she followed suit. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. The Namek shoes were apparently made out of some material that was resistant to water—the wet blades weren't affecting her at all as she strode around. Junior had grabbed the bag out of the back of the truck, and was setting up something.
She squinted, nose wrinkling up.
"The hell…?"
"Projector," Junior replied. "Snuck it in back when I was younger, so it's a little old. Still works fine, though. Even managed to nab batteries."
Chi Chi was rather dumbfounded. He was setting up the projector on top of the truck, but he turned to tell her to get in the bed.
"I packed some blankets and shit in the bag. You can dig 'em out." Junior returned to his task, and Chi Chi dug into the bag with a strange sense that she wasn't in the current reality. Her hands moved, grabbing the blankets that had been folded and crammed into the bag, flapping them out. She could practically smell how old they were.
She sat on it, and Junior flopped down, shaking the whole truck with his weight. Above their heads, the light flickered on, and Chi Chi stared as a familiar black screen shot onto the wall. She turned to him, a smile on her face in spite of her best efforts.
"Really? Twilight Zone?"
Junior scoffed. "You underestimate what a little shit I was back in the day. I used to watch this show religiously." He leaned back. "I can't offer you popcorn, unfortunately."
"This is fine," Chi Chi chuckled, the familiar grainy black and white image appearing. She settled back, ignoring the warmth in her stomach. Especially when it was at times like this, with the most ridiculous lighting, that Junior looked his best. It cast all of his features into sharp contrast, and when they were alone he seemed to lose some of the roughness around his edges. He wasn't nearly as objectionable. She thought, fleetingly, of leaning against him.
Instead, she tilted her head back against the glass.
It was as Junior began packing up the projector, that Chi Chi rose to her knees, stretching her limbs out. She glanced around her, soaking in the last moments. The sky above—so beautiful and clear, almost like she was home once more. The air was nice and clean here, good to pull in as she watched Junior work.
"So…" Chi Chi pulled her ponytail holder out of her hair, fussing her fingers through the mess. "Your cousin's truck, huh?"
"It really is my cousin's," Junior said, giving her a flat look as he tucked the projector back into the paper bag. "Kind of. I don't really remember how Mori's related to us…" his brow furrowed, but he waved it off.
"Is Mori the same age as Nail and Dende?"
Junior snorted. "Hardly. It'd be a bit weird if they were the same age as their sire."
Chi Chi jolted. "What?!"
He blinked. "Their sire? Dad? Whatever."
"No—wait, it's just… I guess I…" she frowned, voice trailing off. "I guess I never imagined them with a father."
"They have a grandfather too," Junior's voice was clearly mocking. "Would you like to analyze that, too?"
"No," Chi Chi responded hotly. "It's just weird, is all. I can't even imagine Nail as a kid…"
"Well," Junior was squatted there, his t-shirt far too tight on his bulky form as his elbows pressed to his knees. "He was a kid. Actually, he had a shit phase like me. All this junk was stuff we kept hidden in the ceiling of his room." He broke off, a wistful expression on his face. "Once Dende got old enough, though, he kind of fade away. Dende was obviously going down a traditionally Namekian path, and Nail kind of felt like he had to follow."
"Oh." Chi Chi twisted her fingers up, the rubber band tight around her digits.
He stood then, the truck jolting as he hopped down. "We used to come here all the time. Whenever I wanted to get away from Kami and my dad—I'd grab my stash of shit from his room and take off here. He used to come out here for fun, and after a while it became 'to monitor' me." Junior kicked at a lump of grass, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket. "All of a sudden I should be listening to Kami, and doing something other than fighting."
Chi Chi slid to the tailgate, her legs dangling. "You don't seem to care about fighting all that much, though," she said, and Junior pinned her with an indescribable look. "So what was the big deal?"
"I was so angry back then," he replied. He leaned back, his hip pressed against the gate, almost against her fingers. "Fighting was what felt good. I enjoyed the power I had over people." His face became twisted, almost inhuman with the amount of savage joy she saw reflected there. "Messing people up, hospitalizing them, humiliating them—it was a high that I couldn't get from anything else." His chuckle was deep and sinister.
Chi Chi stared at Ma Junior, before she bit her lip, and placed a hand on his shoulder. His expression seemed to instantly fall.
"But not anymore…?" she prompted.
"Not anymore," he echoed. "Now it's… now it's being with that kid." His shoulders slumped, and he glanced at Chi Chi. "Now it's movie nights." He squinted his eyes up. "I can't even get angry at Kami properly anymore. I don't think I have it in me. I told you to come with me—but hell, I don't know if I would have been capable of anything anyways."
Chi Chi laughed, tilting her head back to look at the stars. "Well… without you, I think I'd still be sitting at the phone, damn near in tears waiting for my husband that isn't coming back."
He seemed startled, and she gave him a coy smile.
"Don't look so surprised. I'm not. But I was always so afraid of what would happen to Gohan—if anything were to happen between me and Goku. Could he handle it? How would he recover? But… well, it seems like Gohan's stronger than I gave him credit for. Definitely stronger than me."
"That kid's stronger than the both of us," Junior agreed. "You two would have been fine without me."
"Maybe," Chi Chi said slowly. "Gohan probably could have gotten over his heartbreak." Wind tickled the back of her neck. "But you could have easily found something else to live for, couldn't you have?" She lowered her head back down, meeting his gaze. "You asked me about love, and I've already told you it isn't like in the movies. Even the platonic kind between us three." Her heart puled a bit at the thought. "Everything in media tells you that you wouldn't be the same without someone's love—that it takes a special person to pull you to the finish line."
"You don't agree?"
"No." Chi Chi shrugged. "Listen, I'm not that smart. I'm not one for waxing poetic. But I've been here for long enough to know that you don't need a certain person. You're not put on this earth to hope and pray you stumble across some great person. You just enjoy the people that you do meet, and what they bring to your life."
Junior remained silent, before his crooked smirk became visible. "For someone who isn't all that smart, you sure did rattle that off easily."
She smiled. "I guess I've just had a lot of stuff on my mind lately. Like is there only one person in the world for you. It lead me down that thought process." She pulled her knees up to her chest. She felt small suddenly, her chin pressing roughly against her kneecaps. "And I came to the conclusion that—I don't think there's anybody for you."
"Cynical—you sure I didn't rub off on you?"
"Oh," Chi Chi swatted at him, finger barely tapping his bicep, "I don't mean it in a negative way. I just mean… Goku's not my soulmate. I recognize that now. We're both two grown adults who have thoughts and functions outside of one another. Our plans didn't mesh, so why would we stay together? Love be damned."
The heel of Junior's palm was pressed down on the gate, dipping it down just a bit. He rolled his head to the side.
"So… you're talking as if you and Goku are in the past tense?"
"I think we always were." Chi Chi said it quietly, solemnly. She pressed her eyelids closed, feeling heat bunching up there. "I'm not indifferent to it," she said, "but I can't see what the point in crying over spilt milk is."
Junior bit back a laugh, his hand visibly covering his mouth as he grinned at her.
"I guess we'd better get headed back, though," Chi Chi slid forward, her toes unable to touch the ground. "I'm sure Kami's probably worried. Especially after the way we left."
"The old shit'll be fine," Junior sneered. "He's not even going to care. He never does."
"He obviously cares," Chi Chi argued. "Did you see his face? Hear his voice?"
He remained impassive. "I've been dealing with the asshole for a while. He doesn't do shit. He'll just make that face and keep going. It's infuriating."
Chi Chi huffed. "You're acting like a child! What are you expecting from him?"
"Something!" Junior exploded, whirling away from her. The nice mood that had been settling in them dissipated quickly. "For him not sit there like a fucking pathetic waste of space! For him to do something! My dad's laying there dying—yet that moronic lump of flesh gets to live on for nothing!" His chest heaved, his eyes wild, before he thought to collect himself. His face was flushed, but he kept it averted from her.
"Junior…" Chi Chi sat in the wake of his words.
"Let's go home." His voice was gruff, and he left everything sitting in the bed of the truck.
"Wai—,"
"Get in the truck or fall out the back when I start it up," he snapped. "I don't really give a shit which." He disappeared inside, and Chi Chi felt a hole open up in her chest. People may not need each other, but they sure could benefit from the proper influence. Chi Chi only wished that she could be that person for Junior. Instead, she could only feel her own selfish anger broiling at the way he spoke to her.
She clambered into her seat, and clicked the belt into place. She figured this would be the part where a better person could offer him some sort of reassurance, or say something magical that could heal all of his issues. Yet all Chi Chi could do was broil over with indignation as he drove the car in stony silence.
"Just so we're aware," Chi Chi's voice was frosty, "I think you're a completely childish ass."
She figured that would be the end of it, but she was startled when he spoke up.
"And I think you're an insufferable busy body." There was no malice now, his voice seemed normal—which, for him, meant a slight dose of condescension.
"Well," she said primly. "I won't argue with you."
"Good thing, too. You didn't have a carton to stand on."
She groaned, her forehead thumping against the window.
*Finger guns* I got puns
Who likes pain and suffering followed shortly by lame jokes - me.
Also! Over on Tumblr, the-aquarian (and on FF as .phoenix ) posted a lovely fic that takes place whenever Chi Chi answers her phone call with Goku, and is all about Junior's reaction to it.
And check out Chiccolo-Fans over on Tumblr as well, where plenty of awesome people participated in Chiccolo week, if you just need some more of that fix.
Anyways, I hope every one is enjoying, and please leave a review to let me know how you're digging it.