Disclaimer – I don't own Dragonball Z… but I've got it on lay-away, so it should be mine once I scrounge up the money.

A/N: Aw, you guys are nice. Thanks for all of the reviews! I love you guys! I had been taking a break from writing, but I'm back in the creative spirit, now that I'm in college. I'm just surrounded by some really talented people and they inspire me to write.

Convalescence

"And how is my fiancée today?" Yamcha asked.

She smiled back. "I'm fine."

"Stressful day?"

"No," she turned away from him and opened a drawer. She grabbed a knife and fork before looking at him again. "Why do you ask?"

Yamcha's brow furrowed. "You just look stressed."

She shook her head and forced a smile.

Yamcha chuckled. "And you won't look me in the eye."

As if to prove him wrong, Chichi looked up from getting a glass from the cupboard. She looked at Yamcha like a child forced to own up to a mistake. She smiled, this one genuine. She handed him the plate and silverware. "I am fine. I had a stressful day. The boys are being unruly." She explained it like a list and emphasized it, making each one sound like it would end the world. She needed him to believe her.

He believed her. Smiling, he took the plate, gave her a quick peck on the lips and sat down at the table. Chichi stood at the stove and turned down the pot of mashed potatoes until the burner was warm. She watched Yamcha ask Gohan how his day was, and Gohan respond enthusiastically. He was more of a father than Goku ever was… or could be. Gohan loved him, Goten loved him, and her father loved him. Everyone loved him. It was her that had the problem.

Things hadn't been the same since she postponed the wedding. It wasn't totally her fault. This was the second time their wedding had been postponed. The first time, Yamcha had postponed it. His mother had recently died and he went into a state of blind panic and confusion. He suddenly forgot how to function. He wasn't close to his mother, at all. And that's what she figured led him into that incurable state. The regret. He told her that he didn't know who he was anymore. He told her he loved her more than anything, but he couldn't commit the rest of his life with her, if he didn't know who he was. She nodded and said she understood. She threw away the wedding invitations, put the wedding dress back the closet, threw herself on her bed and cried.

"Are you coming back to the table?" His question broke her daydream. She smiled. Yamcha smiled back.

"Of course."

She sat back down. Gohan asked for Yamcha to pass the chicken. Yamcha waited for the correct ending of the sentence. Rolling his eyes, Gohan added 'please' but added it with a smile and laugh. Goten made a mashed potato mountain and asked Chichi to spoon the gravy lava.

They had somehow become a functioning family.

------

The sky was impossibly blue, Yamcha noticed. Not just a pretty color, but an impossible shade of light blue. It looked like something right out of a novel. Or a movie. He couldn't decide which. He was sitting outside in a trendy café in the city. The tables outside had umbrellas that were a neutral shade of brown. The chairs and tables were the same color of brown. It was if the café wanted to just dissolve into the earth. With every gentle breeze, the paper napkins on the table threatened to fly away. Yamcha wasn't focused on the décor. He started hopelessly into the sky, transfixed.

"Is there a reason we're staring at the sky?" The woman with the lovely blue hair asked with an amused grin.

Yamcha looked up, smiled and stood to greet his guest. "Bulma, you're late. And I was admiring the day. It's nice."

They quickly hugged and sat back down.

"I'm sorry I'm late. Too many things going on to name."

"Go ahead. Name them. I've got time."

Bulma smiled her thanks. A waiter came back, dropped off two glasses of water a promptly left.

"Yamcha, you're sweet. But the shit I've got going on will only pile on top of your shit…"

"I'm pretty shit-free right now, Bulma."

Bulma looked up from the menu to give Yamcha a quizzical glare. "Really? I figured you'd be knee deep." She shrugged.

Yamcha laughed. "Why's that?"

Bulma started at Yamcha incredulously. "Goku."

Yamcha stared blankly at Bulma. "…is in a coma?" he finished for her.

Bulma let out a short burst of laughter, and then shook her head. "Oh god, I'm sorry, Yamcha." He tone turned serious, and her gaze concerned. "I thought you knew. I thought she would have told you."

"Told me what?"

"Goku… he's awake."

Yamcha looked down at the table, trying to pretend the news didn't affect him. "Well." He swallowed, hoping that would make him look more nonchalant. "Good."

"I'm sorry, Yamcha. I thought Chichi would've told you."

"Yeah. Well." Yamcha forced himself to look up at Bulma. "The best laid plans."

Bulma smiled sympathetically. "I'm really sorry I broke the news to you before she had the chance. I'm sure it's just because she hasn't had the chance." She was covering for Chichi.

"Of course. I'm her fiancée. Why wouldn't she tell me?"

"Exactly. I mean, this is pretty giant news. She probably didn't want to tell you just any old way."

Yamcha sat in silence for a moment. He chewed on his bottom lip. "I saw her last night. But we were with Gohan and Goten. She probably didn't want them to know so soon." He was speaking aloud but to no one in general.

Luckily, he didn't notice Bulma furrow her brow. Chichi had told the kids. Chichi had taken them to visit Goku. So why was she hiding the news from Yamcha?

------

This was new and unfamiliar. Not to say that everything he had been experiencing was new and unfamiliar. But taking a look at the black pants, white button-up shirt, black socks, black shoes, black suit coat and long skinny tie… this was just too weird.

Goku stood in his hospital room. After spending a week in the hospital, he'd actually forgotten about regular clothes, much less dressing himself. He tried to search his memory for the last time he wore these clothes. There were no flashes of pain and no reveries. He was somewhat disappointed.

The pants were easy. He remembered how to put on pants. He wasn't that far gone. He wasn't dumb, just a convalescent. He put the shirt on after the pants. The white shirt was pressed and clean. He tucked the tails of the shirt into his pants. He grabbed the tie. He put it around his neck. He stood in the room, next to the bed for a long moment. He didn't remember how to tie a tie. He held both ends in his hands and looked down at them feeling an odd sense of failure. Deciding to forgo the tie, he put on the socks, shoes and suit coat.

His back to the door, he didn't see, or hear, Bulma come in. She was leaning on the frame, smiling.

"You look good." She commented.

He turned around and smiled. "Thanks." He looked down at his clothes. "Is this what I usually wear?"

"Most times."

He held up the limp ends of the tie. "I don't remember."

She smiled and walked to him. She tied it slowly and deliberately, so he could repeat the motions later. "Looks nice, now. Doesn't it?"

"Sure."

"So. Where do you think you're going?" she asked with a smirk. "Last time I checked, you weren't going to be released from the hospital for quite some time. Another week, at least." She sat down in the chair next to his bed. It squeaked as she sat on it. Goku stood facing her.

"I can't be here anymore. Plus, I feel fine."

"Well, I'm sure you do. But they need to run tests."

"I'm tired of tests, Bulma. I just want to get my life back."

Bulma frowned. "How are you going to get your life back if you don't even know who you are?"

Goku frowned at her and turned toward the bed.

Bulma sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be a bitch. But come on, Goku." She stood up and put a hand on his shoulder. "You don't know anything about your life."

"I'm learning."

"I know. But, you think things are so different."

"Just… take me to my house. I think that'll help me remember things."

"I can't take you out of this hospital."

Goku turned and faced her. "I'm not staying here anymore. I'm done recovering. I'm fine. I want my life back."

There was a moment of silence, and Goku could tell Bulma was sizing him up. She bit her lip and let out a graceful sigh. "I'll go get the release forms."

--------

He stood at the door for quite some time. Bulma stood behind him, patiently waiting for him to get the courage to open the door.

He stood at the door waiting for a memory to strike. He stared at the number 816 for what it seemed like was an eternity. He was sure he had them burned in his memory by now. He couldn't figure out why this didn't trigger a memory. He stood with coat draped over his arms, staring at his own door. Where were the memories?

"Give me the key."

Bulma warily handed it to him.

He forced the key in the lock and heard a gentle click. His apartment was unlocked. He had no clue what he'd find inside.

The door slowly opened as if in a horror film. He stepped in the doorway and instinctively reached out on his left side. He felt the light switch and turned it on. Light flooded the room.

"So, this is your place" Chichi stood in the doorway. There was an unsure smile on her face.

"Yeah. This is it."

She looked around, unable to meet his eyes. "Neat."

She walked in a few steps from the doorway. Goku set his keys down on the table next to the door and stood in front of her.

His arms wrapped around her waist. "You still wanna come in? Or are you going to stand in the doorway all night?" As he spoke, he leaned down closer to her.

She smiled and kissed him.

This time, the memory didn't cause a full fledged attack. Goku winced and held onto the door frame for support. Bulma watched him carefully, with a comforting hand on his back.

The carpet was dark blue. Or black. No, definitely dark blue. The walls were painted a light blue, like the sky on a clear summer day. There were nondescript paintings placed with care on the walls. There were multiple rooms, most of which he couldn't see, but he assumed. He walked in on the living room, with its multiple shades of blue. There was a couch placed, with its back to one wall, and a TV and stereo placed on the opposite side. Walking in further, he found a kitchenette to his right and another room to his left. He saw the foot of a bed to his left.

"So. This is where I live."

"Yep."

"Is that my bedroom?" he pointed into the room.

"Yeah."

"I sleep there?"

"…Goku, you have amnesia. You're not retarded."

"Look, I'm just making sure, okay?"

"Okay."

Goku walked into the bedroom and stood at the foot of the bed. He leaned over and softly touched the comforter.

"You're sure this is what you want?" He spoke calmly, but he was having a hard time keeping himself propped up.

Chichi was lying on his bed, her arms wrapped around his neck. She was breathing heavily. Her hair was mussed, and her shirt partially unbuttoned. She stared back at Goku, her eyes intense. "What?"

"Are you sure? Cause… we can stop." He offered the suggestion hoping she would tell him full steam ahead. Cause that's what he really wanted.

"Am I sure?"

They were inches away from each other, both of them struggling for breath and composure after their intense making out. Somehow the kiss goodnight turned into the French kiss goodnight. And somehow that moved to her straddling him on the couch and somehow they had moved to his bed. Now, Chichi was on her back, arms around his neck. He propped himself off of her. From the waist down, they were entangled. In the dark, it would have been hard to tell her legs from his.

"Yeah… are you sure?"

"…Are you kidding?" Chichi smiled and laughed breathlessly.

Goku let the weight off of his arms and eased himself down, their mouths joining in a passionate kiss.

"You" kiss. "know" kiss. "what" kiss. "this" kiss. "means" kiss. "for" kiss. "us." kiss.

Chichi smiled and broke the kiss. "Why are you talking? I just agreed to have sex with you and you want to write the next great American novel."

"I'm not writing anything. I was speaking."

"Why are you arguing with me and not kissing me?"

Goku chuckled. "Excellent question" He started at her mouth, then placed a delicate trail of kisses down her neck. He made quick work of her clothes and his.

"I love you," she murmured before he kissed her again after removing his own pants. He pulled away. She noticed he had a pained look on his face. She sighed. "I didn't say it so you'd say it back, ok?"

"Ok."

"Goku, I'm serious."

"I know."

"I don't care if you say it back."

"Ok."

She could feel him slipping away. "I take it back." She blurted out. She suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

He pulled away even more. "What?"

"I take it back."

"You can't."

"What do you mean I can't?"

"You can't."

"Yes I can."

"No. You can't. You told me you loved me."

"I know. I was there."

"So, stand by it. You love me, right?"

"Yeah."

"Ok. Good." He coughed and looked away. "Me too, I guess."

Her face lit up. He smirked with he saw her grin. "What?" he asked, rolling his eyes.

"You love me." She teased.


"What are you, four?"

"You love me, and you want to have sex with me."

"Ok, that's what I was trying to do before you pulled out that 'I love you' shit."

"You love me, and you want to have sex with me, because you love me."

He couldn't help but smile. As he leaned down and resumed his actions, he couldn't help but think that this was absolutely perfect.

He regained consciousness on his bed, sprawled out. He looked up and found Bulma at the foot of the bed. "What happened?"

She sighed. "Well, you had an attack. I moved you to the bed." She sat on the edge of the bed. "It seemed like a painful one."

"It was about Chichi." He responded, his voice deadpan.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Was it… a good one?"

"Well…yeah." Goku sat up and sighed. He looked at his blue bedspread and traced the stitches with his index finger. "I love her."

"Goku…"

"No, Bulma. I love her. I want to be with her."

"Goku…"

"Bulma, there is nothing you can tell me that will stop me from marching over to her house right now and taking her in my arms and telling her I love her."

"Goku…"

"What!?"

"… she has a fiancée. She's going to get married in three months."