Grape Soda and Magnets

by ChronicallyinFlaming

A collection of over a hundred Krillin/18 prompts, ranging from AU to proposals to holidays to babysitting. V/B, G/CC featured.

3. 51 thru 75

Thanks for the reviews/adding of the story to favorites/alerts/and the messages to remind me to finally, finally update.

And if you're familiar with my other stuff, I'm hoping to post a new chapter of Days soon, but the last two chapters are huge. The last one that's almost finished coming in at over forty-five pages and the second to last at over thirty and still needs a huge chunk written.

The final chapter of Heroes will be up very, very soon and so will the next chapter of Grape Soda and Magnets, which will push the prompt list to a hundred and I have at least another hundred prompts in varying degrees of being finished.

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51. Father

His daughter was peacefully coloring in a book with a crayon when she sprung the question onto him. For a second, he considered pawning it off onto Juuhachigou, as she'd done when Marron had asked where babies had come from.

"Daddy," she cocked her head, ponytails dangling. "Where's your daddy?"

Hardly any of his friends, as far as he knew, had a dad. Even Gohan had lost his-only Bulma and Chi-Chi had theirs. He'd never really thought about it, or even took notice of it. His mother had died when he'd been young, and as the years passed in the temple, he'd nearly forgotten about her. After the age of thirteen, he'd come to Master Roshi's house, and created a different family that didn't need any blood for a connection.

"My daddy? Well, I never knew my father. But, Master Roshi's been like a dad to me."

"Master Roshi?" Her nose was scrunched up in puzzlement. When Marron thought of the turtle master, it was mostly tied to the man who insisted on watching exercise tapes, played Tea and Dolls with her, and got yelled at by her mother. 'Father' was not the thing to come to mind.

"Yeah," he smiled at her, remembering his awe when he'd first seen the old man, and how much he'd expected to learn from him. "Did I ever tell you about the first tournament I was in, and how he beat me and Goku?"

"He beat Uncle Goku?"

"Yep, neither of us stood a chance against him. You should have seen him when he scared off these Red Ribbon army guys, too…"

52. Mother

Her past came in weak flickers of memory, usually when she lease expected it. It came when she was in the supermarket, when Krillin was trying to decide on a head of lettuce; during a movie, with one arm around his shoulders and the other resting not-at-all casually on his leg; in a cold shower in the middle of summer; lying out on a beach chair and watching the tide come in.

Strangely, none of them ever happened with her brother. At most she gets a sense of déjà vu when he'd be behind the wheel of a car and even more so when they were being chased by someone. It's as though with her twin, Gero's attempt to wipe all traces of her past worked completely.

When she holds Marron for the first time, she can remember a woman with pale eyes and delicate features and (her brother's?) dark hair. Her teasing smile as she let a cigarette and gazed at a younger Juuhachigou when she'd been addressed by something other than a number, applying makeup over a white vanity. There is no absolute way for her to know who this woman was to her.

But Juuhachigou did, and as she held her child, her sweet, helpless child who clasped her finger with surprising strength, not wanting to let go, she thought about her own mother.

53. Rejected

She looked at the passenger seat window, watching the dark-haired figure flee. When she turned the key in the ignition, she reassured herself that she was not fuming. Nor was she hurt. Just a little confused.

Since when did Krillin get to say he wasn't interested in going back to her and her brother's cabin? So what if her brother would be there with a massive collection of weapons? And so what if maybe Juuhachigou had told him that he would be coming back with her and she would not take any refusal for an answer?

But she was not mad, Juuhachigou told herself.

Even as she chased him with the car and nearly drove him down.

54. Pretext

There was a game they played, only when they were alone. The others wouldn't have understood. They might have misconstrued her grabbing the side of his face and pulling him close as something romantic. Her true reason, to see whether or not you could still see the six dots on his forehead through his hair, might have seemed even feeble. Even when her hands trailed through his dark hair, just to make sure the old scars were hidden.

And when he leaned forward, indicating that she had something on her face, right above her lip and since his eyes were closing, he couldn't see the napkin besides her. One small hand held up her chin and the other caressed the skin above her mouth. She had to wonder what exactly was there, and if maybe Krillin would believe her if she said he had the same.

But when he didn't move away and she shoved him against the opposite wall and drove her own mouth onto his, Juuhachigou was willing to allow that maybe some of her reasoning was faulty about a few things.

55. Cold Embrace

"I wonder," the detached voice asked him, "How it feels to have what your whole life has been about destroyed so easily?"

Juuhachigou, the monster, the horrible monster that was destroying earth, leaned closer to him. When he flinched, the curious smile grew. Machine or not, she was warm. In this desolate grey ruin of a city that was nothing like Kame island, Krillin always seemed to be cold. He swallowed.

That she'd destroyed, that she'd robbed of people and turned to ash. She killed this place.

He could see every pore on her nose.

She sounded almost concerned. "Aren't you going to answer my question?"

But then he couldn't.

If there was one thing he could definitely swear would never happen, even in a world where Goku died in his bed of a disease, and his best friends were murdered around him until he was circled by a ring of corpses and the earth itself seemed to cry out as it died and turned grey…he could have sworn that he would never sleep with an android, number eighteenth of Dr. Gero's creations.

In the morning she was gone, leaving him wanting to believe it had all been a terrible dream. Absurd, disgusting, to think of sharing a bed with an unrepentant murderous. He was sure, lying there on an empty cot, that it had not happened. He was Krillin, one of the last heroes on earth, and she was a monster that had killed and destroyed so much of what he held dear. Hold her, pull her close to him, hear her whispering something almost sweet into his ears? It wasn't possible. Sacrilege to the memory of his friends, to all those who'd died, to his place as a savior of Earth.

Later, digging through rubble, feeling dust settling into his throat, he'd turned to see her behind him. When he flinched, she smiled. It was a clownish thing, ugly on her pretty face. He just had time to see the blow coming, but wasn't quick enough to duck it. Awakening, Krillin found himself alone, one arm nearly sprained, bruises darkening his face and sides.

And then, later, she had brought him food and made him eat it in front of her, not caring about his bruised jaw. "I worry about you." A sly smile, mocking. Her gift was ashes in his mouth. Juuhachigou, small talking to him while Krillin nodded, and later her leading him patiently to the tiny bed only to be gone in the morning.

He was her pet. She would touch the slow growth of hair on his forehead, petting him. Finding him razors and shaving cream and clean clothes and water for when he would come home, his throat tight from coughing. His days were burying the dead and saving hurt, harmless people and his evenings were spent with the person responsible.

Once, there was coffee being made, dinner clumsily laid out on a scratched table he'd saved from somewhere. Aside from a few rare visits from Bulma, he'd never had a woman here before. He laughed at the sight of her so out of place in his sterile poor apartment, that pouting face, "What, don't you like fish?"

"Oh no, fish is fine. I didn't realize you could cook." Inside, something flinched at talking to her, and talking to her about herself which seemed so wrong. She probably hated personal questions.

Those lifeless eyes were half-lidded and a smirk on that mouth he knew too well. "There's lots of things I can do. Now hurry up and eat."

Was it worse to lay with her, or dine with her like friends? Or maybe the bad part was that he was growing used to it, and worst, looked forward to it. Because, goddamnit, it was a relief from the horror he saw every day. To come to an apartment where someone was waiting for him, sometimes with food or at least a smile and kind touch. Or rough ones, painful pinches and bites that made him pull away as she moved closer, that hideous grin on her face.

But there, there were moments as he helped the survivors, and hate her more than he'd ever hated Freiza. Seeing the dead, seeing her work, his chest would burn like an ember, full of rage and bitterness. So much waste, for nothing. They often didn't even laugh anymore when they killed people, trading smiles for dull looks of professionals doing their job. At least Freiza had felt something as he killed people.

The android, the android that's all she was, a machine a robot…she was like rotting meat being fed to a starving man that made him feel better momentarily only to feel sick later.

He didn't dare ask why she did any of this. Was there a reason? Programming? Was there truly a woman behind all that, peeking out when she was near him? As she would hit him, even, there was more passion in her eyes than as she blew another building apart. They would see each other a few times in the day, her attempted to spar with him by beating him within an inch of consciousness, then disappearing.

A terrible parody of a relationship went on as another month was peeled away: when he finished another day of helping survivors, he'd come home to her making dinner. Having coffee or tea with her or water when supplies were scarce, and they never talked about it. It being of course what she did, or what he did.

Her eyes would be bright with amusement, waiting for him to (snap?) say something. "So, how was your day," had never been more venomous. Krillin nearly laughed, thinking about it. Then weeping as he found himself pinned down in a small cot that was never meant for two.

But then she would come to him, always at night. There were moments where he would just forget about what the day had brought, and only in clear moments as he heard her heart beat and felt the human warmth, he would think, that hadn't been her.

Her head on his chest, eyes closed and breathe on his shoulder. Pulling her closer, loving this and her, and her so much that he nearly wept. Juuhachigou could never do such a thing.

And always, there were the ghosts of his friends, looking on. Their eyes were black and shadowed. None of them said a word; they didn't need to. Hell, they couldn't say a word. That was the thing about being dead. The point, almost, if you could actually say that their deaths had a purpose. They tore him apart with their silent eyes.

"If my brother found out," her hair a mess, her voice playful. "He'd kill you."

So then there was a new twist to their relationship in the form of even more blackmail. Not just Juuhachigou occasionally tossing him into a wrecked building and effortlessly forcing him in tears to his knees. But now the threat of her darker, even more dangerous and evil twin only added more to his anxiety. If she'd been a simple woman with a protective brother, Krillin would still feel uneasy.

And then, to add to his list of never-ending problems, it wasn't as though he could break up with her. And dating wasn't exactly what they were doing. He couldn't even tell her to leave his apartment, let alone his life. Telling her so would indeed get her out of his life as she tore the reason for him to keep living away from him.

56. Rivalry

Bulma called him. Her voice was not franticly desperate, but nearing it. Krillin took the phone one-handed, balancing a bowl of popcorn in the other. His date sat on the couch, looking at him expectantly. He shrugged; you could ignore one phone call, but not the sixteen after that.

"I need help."

"Did another robot go insane and start terrorizing the neighborhood."

Juuhachigou threw him a dirty look.

"God, I wish. No, it's Vegeta."

"What, did Vegeta finally go insane and start terrorizing the neighborhood?"

Juuhachigou perked up with interest.

"I wish! It's worse. Since he's given up fighting, he's gotten a new hobby."

"Really? Did he take up knitting?"

Juuhachigou laughed and finally muted the movie playing.

"I wish. No, I don't. I'd probably strangle him with a scarf. He's driving me insane. He doesn't train, he hardly eats the way he used to, he encourages the neighborhood kids to play tricks on me; I'm sick of having to hose off eggs on the house! He's been bugging me, ruining my work, and spending too much time with Trunks."

"What? I thought you wanted him to spent time with Trunks more?"

"I thought I did. But now the two are talking in some language I can't understand, and I think they're mocking me."

"Trunks is two. He can't mock. He just became toilet trained."

Juuhachigou looked disturbed.

"That's what I thought. But now I don't know. They'll say something, Trunks will point at me, and then they'll both laugh."

"…maybe they are then."

"You have to help me. Somehow. Get his ass back into the training chamber and out of my lab."

"How can I help? Vegeta and I aren't exactly friends."

"He doesn't need a friend. What he needs is a new nemesis."

"Did you really just use the word 'nemesis'?"

"I haven't been able to sleep in three days! I can say whatever the hell I want!"

"I don't think I can fill that void in Vegeta's life, Bulma."

Juuhachigou looked even more disturbed.

"He needs someone to taunt him, who can rub his face in something he did, something awful and humiliating and painfully shameful."

His eye fell on Juuhachigou. "I have just the thing."

Juuhachigou looked up at him mystified, and Krillin's evil-tinged grin only made her more curious.

"I'll be right there, Bulma."

He threw down the phone, the bowl of popcorn, then himself before his lovely date. "Please, please, we need to go to Capsule Corp.

"It's an emergency!"

"It's just Vegeta's sanity," the blonde woman dismissed. "I think he can wait until tomorrow."

And now Krillin was torn. Going to argue with Vegeta as opposed to spending the night curled up on the couch with Juuhachigou?

…Maybe it could wait until morning.

On the other hand, having Bulma owe him one would be nice. Plus, Juuhachigou taunting Vegeta over how they'd met would be hilarious. She could mime how she'd thrown him into a mountain cliff and then swung his son from a different timeline straight into his side.

"I promise, it won't take very long. Afterward, we can…I don't know. Maybe go out to get something to eat."

She was still not convinced.

"Bulma will owe us one."

"Oh no, Krillin. You will owe me."

And the short man really began rethinking doing this. She saw the doubt, and smiled.

"Fine," she sighed, then turned the TV off. "I will say this about your friends. They make us very normal in comparison."

"Don't they?"

Then he ran to get their coats.

When they landed on the perfectly mowed front lawn of Capsule Corp, Bulma had the hose out and was swearing about toilet paper and her husband. She didn't say a word to them, and because the blue eyes held a particular fury in them, Juuhachigou and Krillin didn't push her. The scientist didn't even ask who the blonde woman was and better yet, what she was doing with her friend. Bulma pointed inside, toward the left side of the house, and the two hurried inside before she could unleash her rage onto them.

Inside, they eventually found Vegeta holding his son. He was not smiling or making face or babbling in baby talk to the toddler, and yet Krillin was still shocked. A crib sat there nearby, and the short man could imagine the Saiyan dragging it into here. There was a remarkable lack of anger in his face. Even when he saw the cyborg, he only became a little more suspicious, but did not throw down his child in denial over having actual feelings.

"What do you want, midget?" No 'baldy' which he had called Krillin, as though the shorter fighter had never grown out his hair. It was amazing, and frightening, this transition.

He couldn't exactly say, 'hey, become a sociopath again, will you? It's pissing your wife off that you actually care and are home now.' Could he?

Juuhachigou, however, seemed to think this adjustment was an awful thing. She was disgusted by his new paternal side. "You're pathetic."

The eyes as black as Krillin's narrowed. "What did you say?" And he didn't even make fun of her mechanical parts. Amazing. Krillin wished he had a video camera set up. 'Watch the once furious Saiyan holding his young,' he would whisper to the camera before zooming in. 'It's like he removed the stick from his ass!'

"You don't really care anymore than you ever did. Or any less," A smirk touched her mouth. "You're just trying to forget that Son is dead.

"And that, you never got to beat him.

"You'll always be second-class to him. How can you compete with a dead man?"

Slowly, Vegeta put Trunks into his crib. His jaw was stiff.

Now Krillin really wished he had a camera.

"What, do you think you could just pretend it never happened just because you're not fighting anymore?

"He's still dead, and you still lost."

Vegeta seemed to be considering something, looking deep into her pale blue eyes with a special kind of loathing. They, Krillin realized with a sudden drop of his stomach, understood each other in a way that their partners never could. These two could understand each others' weaknesses even easier than they could see and admit their own, and that was one of the reasons they hated each other so much.

They were alike in a way, arrogant and cold on the surface, uncaring and reluctant to show any failings they had. Underneath that the love they showed as possessiveness and all that fear hidden even deeper.

Which in turn explained why they'd chosen Bulma and Krillin as partners. These two could never be with anyone like themselves. There was too much self-hatred in them. It would have resulted in a bloodbath. Instead, they needed those who were passionate without killing others, who had a sense of humor, and could mock them harmlessly.

"Kakkarot is dead." Vegeta said shortly. Some tensions broke between them.

"Good. Now focus on being a better father and husband than he was, and move on with your life. Go back to training; you're so weak right now I could probably break your arm again."

Now the familiar vein was throbbing in his forehead. "Get the hell out of here, tin can, before I shove you down one of the woman's trash compactors."

57. Glass

He had only been up here to clean the windows.

This they would put on his tombstone.

Below his name, it would read, 'He was a nice guy, and when he went up there, Juuhachigou, he only was there to clean the windows.'

Not to get a peepshow.

If there was one thing he wasn't, it was a voyeur. He didn't even like very much the magazines or videos that littered the house. And that was, sort of, with those people's consent to stare at them. This was something else entirely.

But he couldn't look away, even as the shame tore at his innards, even as the glass began to fog and distort his vision and he carefully had to wipe it away with the cold tips of his fingers.

She was just standing there though, looking down. Only dressed in her underclothes that hid just the necessaries. He'd never noticed how small she was. When he was near to her, she was of course taller than him, but also had a larger-than-life quality that reminded him a little of Goku. Now, when he was free to observe her without her knowledge, he could see the delicate, breakable shoulder blades and the jutting knobs in her back.

Krillin wanted to comfort her, but if she so much as turned around to see him, she would murder him.

Then, he saw that she was looking into a medium sized mirror propped up against the wall.

And then he saw the scars dotting her body.

58. Masquerade ball

"Did you really not think that anyone could recognize you?"

"Hey, my face is hidden."

"You are the shortest Phantom of the Opera I've ever seen."

"Still, I am wearing a mask." Krillin crossed his arms, and she took a minute to admire how well the white shirt looked on him and that the cape, admittedly, did make him look a little taller.

"You didn't even try to disguise your voice."

"I tried," Then he did a passable French accent that made her start to laugh. "La madame, vous êtes la plus jolie femme à la boule."

"I have no idea what you said. Are you aware of that?"

"Yes." She could hear the smile in his voice. "Les hommes tomberaient à vos pieds pour une chance de vous rencontrer."

"Was any of that good?"

"I think so. I'm not all that sure exactly what I said. But, anyway, what are you supposed to be?"

Juuhachigou shrugged, still mentally trying to tear apart and analyze exactly what Krillin had said in French. "I came in a yellow dress and the people at the front door gave me a yellow mask to cover my face."

"Je n'ai jamais rencontré tel un beau…eh, what are you supposed to be exactly?"

"I'm not sure. It's very sparkly, though, isn't it?" She turned her face side to side so Krillin could take see all of it.

"I think it's supposed to be a bird?"

"Damnit." She started to take it off, until he reached out and grasped her hands. "What?"

"You can't take it off now. The unveiling is at midnight."

"So what?"

"It means," the short man said patiently. Was he wearing aftershave? "That you can't take off your make yet."

"Fine." She huffed and shoved him away. "Why did you drag me away?" It had been quite a surprise to feel a small hand reach out to touch her arm, then pull her out of the crowded living room. She'd nearly hit the person who'd been so presumptuous, then once she saw who it was, decided to wait until she could make fun of his costume before hurting him.

"That's what I do." Krillin pulled the cape around his shoulders and tried to look menacing. But through the holes in the mask, the blonde woman could see the amusement flickering in his eyes. "I grab woman and take them to my lair."

"Just the one, Romeo."

"Comment un autre pourrait-il vous être comparable, la madame?"

"Enough of that." She leaned back in the couch, stretching out a leg that completely stole all of the short man's attention.

"Fine. Je donnerais n'importe quoi pour être avec vous."

Juuhachigou sighed. "Have your little jokes, little man."

Krillin sighed as well. "Je vous adore."

Just another game, not completely unlike the one she played with her brother when he hid the TV's controller and he would be so coy while she tore apart the house only to discover it hidden under the television itself. Then he would just laugh while the feathers from the torn pillows slowly drifted to the floor and onto Juuhachigou's hair. "So, did you rig up a bomb in the basement of Capsule Corp and are preparing to blackmail me into marriage?"

"Nope. I spent a wish making sure you wouldn't have to deal with any bombs."

"Do you think that's funny?" It was harder to stare him down when feathers obscured your vision, but not impossible.

"You look amazing in that dress." His voice was wistful and in the darkened light, she couldn't make out the emotion in his eyes.

"You didn't say that in French."

"I know."

And then she had to turn away.

"It has to at least be eleven thirty. Shouldn't we join the rest of your friends?"

"Why did you come here?"

"It gave me an excuse to buy this dress you like me in so much." Her voice was touched with playfulness. She was rewarded by a flash of shy delight on his barely visible face. Krillin laughed and moved closer.

"Really?"

"And maybe I was curious as to what you'd show up wearing. I expected something more ridiculous."

She could definitely smell aftershave. "Does that mean you like the suit?"

"It's better than that white one."

He coughed politely, but continued to move forward. "Merci."

"I guess your brother came as well."

"In a stupid looking blue suit."

"I'm sure-"

"It had a cummerbund."

"Ouch."

"Krillin?"

"Hm?"

Juuhachigou leaned forward, until the tips of her feathers brushed against his polished bone white mask.

"Have you ever been kissed before?"

He cupped her chin, and she tried not to flinch at the feeling of his glove. The dark eyes were warm and a touch sad. Juuhachigou could hear his breathe against his mask. "Are you offering?"

She pulled away, aware that her hand was shaking and felt rather amazed at her actions. It was the wine she'd had earlier. "No, I am not."

"Vous êtes l'ange."

"Shut up. Come on," she grabbed him by his new hair and tugged him out the door. "Let's get this ridiculous unmasking out of the way."

"Je peux voir votre caisse de cet angle très bien."

"If you say one more thing in a language I can't understand, I will beat you Krillin."

They could hear people chanting further down the hallway. Then he pulled his hair out of her grasp and positioned himself so he was walking ahead of her. "Ten, nine, eight," he chanted, and since she knew exactly what he was planning, decided to beat him to the punch by pulling off his mask and grabbing him by the collar.

"Juuhachigou," he whined in that annoying as hell voice. "You're supposed to wait."

"…Three, two, one…" Everyone chanted, but Bulma was too busy tearing off her shocked husband's mask and trying to apparently eat the face underneath to announce the actual unmasking. As were several different couples who had long since paid more attention to each other than the countdown.

"Its tradition and I wanted-"

"Fait taire." She hissed before taking off her own mask and yanking him upward to kiss him.

59. Wolves and their prey

Krillin understood he was trapped by the two twin terrors as they cornered him in the dark crumbling alley. The grey faded stone of the buildings reminded him horribly of a tombstone.

"Hang on, we can talk this out!

"We don't have to be enemies. You don't have to do any of this.

"Why can't we be friends?"

"Oh, shut up," Juuhachigou neatly kicked him in the shins, while her brother drove a fist into his stomach. "Just give us your damn lunch money."

"Never," Krillin managed to gasp. Then the blonde twin was shoving him down to reach into his pockets and make him squeal. When she found the wallet, she kicked him again although this time was across the ass and making him groan and roll onto his stomach. "Here we go." She waved the wallet in Krillin's grimacing face.

Together, they each grabbed half of him and threw the whimpering teenage boy into the dumpster.

Juunanagou waved at the pale, dirty face that popped out of the pile of trash. "I'll see you in gym."

Krillin waved back with one hand, while the other rubbed feeling across his butt. Although his eyes remained on the other lighter twin. "See you in life skills class, Juuhachigou. Remember not to let your brother put the fake baby in the microwave again."

60. Baby Steps

When the terrified parents found their child, the first thing they did was breathe a sigh of relief and lean on each other, dizzy. The rollercoaster of emotions was an increasingly familiar thing ever since Juuhachigou had first gotten pregnant months ago and hadn't ceded as the baby grew older. With her brother visiting for the weekend, it only escalated into near hysteria.

"She's fine," Juuhachigou said firmly. As though Krillin had been the only one worried, and needlessly at that.

"How did she move so quickly from her play pen? Did she crawl out?"

"At least she was with my brother the whole time." They looked at her brother's t-shirted back while he slept out in the living room, passed out after a drinking contest with Krillin's old master. The short man shook his head; he had warned his brother-in-law that he couldn't beat Master Roshi.

Then Marron rose, stumbling and uneven as her uncle after he'd had a few, walked over to them.

"Oh my god, when did you learn to walk?"

She just clapped and grinned at them.

The blonde woman cooed at her daughter. "I had no idea you could do that." Then she turned to her husband, nervous. "You didn't know either, right? And that doesn't make up bad parents, right?"

"No, its fine I'm sure. Hey, what's this? Were you drawing, Marron?"

The delight slowly dissipated once they noticed the permanent marker in her tiny, chubby hand that was growing more and more dangerously dexterous by the day.

Juunanagou rolled over.

The two stared at her sleeping twin, at his face with its emblazoned red kitty and sunflowers. They were actually quite well done, and Krillin reminded himself to invest in more art supplies for his daughter. Already he and Juuhachigou had promised each other never to make Marron fight; an artist would be great to have in the family.

Simultaneously, they told each other, "We'll blame it on Oolong."

61. Go away

When the perverts hurriedly told her to look at the TV screen, Juuhachigou immediately looked away and stood up.

"No. No, hey, look!"

"It's okay, Juu." Krillin was looking at the television as well. "They're showing the Cell games. I guess they managed to get some footage."

So they watched the shoddy, grainy footage of the end of the world almost happening. Krillin filled them in after the film stopped; talking over the announcers and the bellowing supposed hero who'd saved them all.

"And he swelled up because I guess he really thought size mattered, and Gohan punched him in the stomach.

"And that's how I met Juuhachigou again."

The implications slowly sunk in, and her other roommates looked at her in disbelief. Krillin just smiled at her, his eyes vacant as he played some movie in that empty head that Juuhachigou definitely didn't want to see.

"What does he mean, that's how he saw you again?"

It was odd when death was legitimately a better option that what had happened. Dignity would still have existed had she shared the same fate as her twin. Still though, why should she care what these disgusting two thought? If there was anyone's opinion she gave a damn for, it was Krillin.

The reasoning as to why wasn't entirely clear. In fact, she had a million arguments against caring about him at all. But the last thing she wanted was for the miserable shrimp to think anything bad of her. Perhaps fear, yes, she was okay with that. But disgust or dislike, anything to dim that gleam he got when he stared at her, that was unacceptable.

Juuhachigou looked away again, before getting up and leaving the room.

When he chased her back to her bedroom, she immediately shoved him back down the stairs. "Stop following me around like a puppy."

He immediately bounded up from the floor. "Okay, Juuhachigou. I understand. You need some time alone."

She slammed the door shut.

Then she paced around her tiny room. She wanted to take a shower, but was in no mood to have to barricade the door and search the place for cameras and bugs or holes in the wall. So instead the slim blonde woman flopped onto the bed and fell into an unsteady sleep.

She awoke at two thirty seven in the morning in a cold sweat.

Somehow, it wasn't just Cell advancing on her, or the memory of her brother being absorbed. No, that wasn't enough nightmare fodder for her brain. It also decided to throw in Juurokugou being hurt, and then having his head crushed. Then Krillin being slapped around by Cell's tail before being blasted into a cliff.

He's fine, she told herself. Krillin is anyway. Never been better. Juurokugou is dead and your brother is still his immature, mindless self who right now if probably tearing apart an animal with his bare hands and howling at the moon.

But Krillin survived. Probably having a nice dream about…whatever it is that goes through that virtually empty head. Puppies. Dancing and singing around a rainbow. Or something.

Unless of course, the movie from before got to him. But of course it didn't. Since of course Krillin is such a tough, unemotional man that's so well adjusted and completely jaded when it came to your feelings.

"Damn you," Juuhachigou told the empty room. Then she got up. Then she paced around the room again. She rolled her eyes, painfully, then dug through her dresser to find more casual clothes to put on so he didn't think she was a weirdo that slept in her everyday outfit. Then finding an outfit that didn't hang off her completely to show skin, or one that was tight and might give off just as bad an impression. But then, she also didn't want to show that she cared too much about his opinion. In the end, she rubbed her forehead and settled on a t-shirt and jeans.

Krillin slowly raised the covers, revealing the large liquid eyes that repulsed her as much as they did fascinate her. The short man was the exact opposite of her and her brother, and reminded her of nothing that was not placed in her head by Gero. "It's okay. I had nightmares too."

Of course, he was wearing the dorkiest matching pajama set. And waiting for her.

"Damn you."

"Do you want to talk about it?" His face was perfectly guileless. Take or leave it. If she wanted to talk, then fine. If she wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, that was okay too.

"No, I don't."

He stared down at her feet, eyes moving in small trapped circles. "That's okay."

"I don't remember any of it. The last thing I can recall is being…" She nearly shuddered. "Engulfed by that thing's tail." Engulfed wasn't an exact enough word. Swallowed. Suffocated. Devoured. Crushed. Those were more accurate.

He opened his mouth, and immediately she brushed whatever he was going to say off. "It doesn't matter. It's over with."

Krillin rested his head on the pillow, looking up at her, unconvinced. In the bedroom, bright and cheerful in the daytime, he looked hardly older than Goku's son, Gohan. "If you say so. You can always talk to me. If you know, it might make you feel better."

"It won't."

"Still. If you think it might help."

"I'm fine."

"Well. That's good. But if you ever feel, um, unfine, you can tell me. I'm here to listen. Always."

Her shoulders were becoming hunched and tensed. It was going to be a long night. She saw the future: herself laying in bed and watching the shadows creep up the walls until sunlight chased them mostly away, counting the individual boards that the room was built of, reciting over and over again the books on their shelves and categorizing them by genre and author. Tonight. And then the same tomorrow.

Still, what other option did she have, if she wanted to stay and attempt to sleep like a normal person? To pretend to be normal and whole?

That was her new mission now. And she could do it on her own, without her brother, or Gero or Juurokugou, or Krillin for that matter. Gero, who had twisted her and her brother's lives and bodies for his own disgusting goals, Juurokugou who'd died protecting the planet and couldn't be wished back since he wasn't human enough, her moron twin brother who she could seemingly only fight with nowadays, and Krillin who always looked up at her so admiring, begging for something she didn't understand.

None of them were necessary to her, and that knowledge made her feel much better.

"Good night Krillin."

"Good night Juuhachigou."

…but if that nightmare came tomorrow night as well, she might as well talk to Krillin about it. At the very least, maybe he would start suffering from them and there would be someone else up at night to study the crack in the ceiling and wonder where their life was going in a lonely room at three in the morning.

62. The past

Krillin moved his head finally from its resting place on his arms to stare at her, wincing a little when some of the sand blown from outside nearly flew into his eyes. "What do you remember, anyway?"

"What?"

"Before, well, you, er."

She continued flipping the channels from her place on one of the small hard red couches, not sparing him a look. "Had the misfortune of meeting you and your friends?"

"Before that."

"Becoming a cyborg? Meeting Gero?"

"Yeah." When he rolled over to rest his head on his forearms to gaze at her, he looked like a sleepy cat. Had they not been having this somewhat invasive conversation into her history, Juuhachigou might have rubbed his head and under his chin until he laughed.

"It's a little hard to explain." All she had were a chaotic jumble of sights and sensation. Even the exact feelings associated with the visions were muted and mostly…assumed? Now she put herself in those moments, the Juuhachigou that she was today rather than the unnamed young woman.

Her small and with her brother, in some small dark place presumably hiding although from what she couldn't say, and she assumed she was scared. A young child hiding was meant to be frightened? But she very well could have felt safe, or happy. It could have been a game, like when Krillin would spend time with the half-Saiyan boys and they'd play hide and go seek, but she had no way of knowing.

Her in a mall, and presumably happy since she was normally pleased in a shopping environment. Or pissed/determined, and happy. But maybe she was being forced to a dentist, a terrible one that operated in a mall. Maybe she was going to get braces, or cavities filled, or teeth just plain yanked out?

Her in a dusty, oily garage before a junked out car and almost certainly disgusted. Whose garage, whose car, why she was there and staring down at a rusty carburetor, all details lost. But really, that one stuck with her. Was she fixing a car? Was it her brother's car? A family member's? Her's? A past lover, even? So hard to imagine her life involved a burnt out vehicle in an old garage that might have involved a family member or boyfriend she no longer had. Especially when comparing it to her life now, with the shiny new capsule car resting in a drawer in the living room, her brother the only blood relative she knew, and Krillin, the happy, tooth-rotteningly sweet man who somehow managed to wiggle and charm his way into her heart and bed and wouldn't leave.

Really, they seemed to be snapshots of someone else's life.

How exactly did you explain that to someone? And to someone like Krillin, who already felt so awful for what happened to her.

"Just a few memories, really. Me and my brother as kids. Spending time in the mall as teenagers. Fixing things up around the house. "

63. Modesty

As soon as she moved in, she was given first a desperate, pleading warning from Krillin about what his other housemates would do and say, and to please show them mercy. Master Roshi was an old man, he hardly knew where he was, and couldn't be held accountable for his actions. Oolong, now there was a shape-shifting pig with a bad childhood.

The two, suffering from Alzheimer's and haunted from memories of the past or not, showed a marked difference in how they treated her compared to the short man:

He gave her a gift basket full of soaps and lotions, and a small, embarrassed smile that told her he had no idea what to do either.

They gave her underwear, with a creepy, terrible leer that said they knew exactly what they wanted her to do.

After she finished throwing them down the stairs, and shuddering, Krillin popped up to apologize, while they didn't seem to understand what they had done was wrong.

Krillin was kind and patient, and after a while of dealing with doors being opened for her, and porn being locked away, she was less suspicious of his gentlemanly behavior. The cyborg had a feeling that he threatened and blackmailed and beaten the old man into no longer trying to grab at her. Whatever he did, it did help and make her feel more comfortable. Sometimes, even wanted, since she had a feeling that the short man probably enjoyed having her around just to have better conversation than about what was on TV. Sure, they never said much, but he always seemed to enjoy their small talk.

Things were working out fine. Until one average morning when she jumped out of the shower and proved that the rest of today was going to go horrifically.

She stared around the bathroom, then pulled open the cupboards.

"Damnit."

This was the stuff of nightmares. Pathetic nightmares, but nightmares regardless. What made it worse was that she had a feeling that this was someone's direct fault. Not just a matter of forgetting to put the clean towels into their proper place, but deliberately taking them away just before she took a shower. Wait. Timing for the exact moment. There was timing involved in this.

And what further compounded the situation further was that she'd put her clothes into the hamper. The group hamper. There was no way she could wear them now. They had been dirty when she'd put them in, and now they were filthy.

Juuhachigou made a mental note to never ever do that again.

She pawed through the remaining towels. Okay, so she could use a pair of washcloths and maybe one of the larger towels to cover the rest.

'The rest.' My god, everything is 'the rest!'

No, this would not work. Horrified, she glanced at the keyhole and was not entirely calmed just because it was still covered by an abandoned kitchen towel that no one dared move. She was damp, even if she couldn't feel the cold enough to shudder, and was uncomfortable. Even in the shower, or in her locked room, Juuhachigou was never quite comfortable naked. There was always a creeping feeling that she would turn around to see sunglass covered face or a snout or big black eyes gazing up at her. And yet, here she was, just walking around the bathroom without anything on but droplets of water and horrified expression on her face.

Again, and again she searched and pawed through the cupboards before giving up. Then, eyeing the washcloths, gave up. The cyborg found the largest ones and after a brief, tearless cry for her dignity, made sure they were pulled as tight on her as possible. She opened the door, and stole a tiny glance into the hall. Her hair hung in wet clumps into her face, and for once she didn't mind it being there. A futile gesture, but the more coverage the better.

Carefully, she kept one arm around her chest, the other clutching for dear, dear life the bottom towel.

The T.V. downstairs was squawking away, and the perverts crudes cheers made her sigh for the first time in relief. They were down here, and she was up here, and therefore everything would be okay.

Halfway on the hallway, she lost the first towel. Juuhachigou stared at it grimly, then nodded. It was gone, but she had to move on. Any stragglers would be abandoned and perhaps collected after everything was done and she was clothed. She just moved her arm to cover more, and tried to remember to breathe and listen.

More silent steps down the hall, past the now familiar painting of a tanned woman in a grass skirt that's full outfit was utterly different from her own. Except that the effect didn't look dissimilar from Juuhachigou's. Another towel fell, a sign of the universe cursing her, and she cursed it back as she heard steps heading for the stairs.

Juuhachigou pulled open the closest door, throwing herself inside, one arm remaining wrapped around herself and she knew without looking that it wasn't enough. The footsteps continued past, and her eyes opened. Then they widened with horror.

Godammit universe. It wasn't her room. She would never have a poster of a race car on her walls. And especially not pictures of girls and posters from musicals either. Was that a band advertisement, was that a print of a famous painting? Where the hell was she?

And then she noticed that she was also not alone. Her arm didn't cover enough, and the lower, last towel was held unsteadily, slipping, in her other cold hand, and she wasn't alone.

And that Krillin had been getting ready for bed right before his newest roommate came rushing into his room, as half naked as he was.

64. Distraction

Bulma finished putting in the thirty-ninth light screw in her latest contraption, a beginning training device for Trunks that played music and flash lights and would distract him in the early morning when the coffee hadn't finished being made, when something truly brilliant came to her.

A solution to another problem. Bulma threw down her screwdriver and ran to her intercom for an assistant to immediately bring her Vegeta. And to bring Juuhachigou within twenty minutes of her husband's arrival. If they thought her request odder than normal, the intern did not reveal that fact. The scientist immediately made a note to herself to give him a raise, and told a different intern to write it down.

It was only after she grew tired of fixing another training chamber, broken from either Vegeta's rage, or Juuhachigou's, or her own, when she realized it was too much. She could only take so many homicidal maniacs at her house. At one time. When she was raising a young child that screamed at her when there was no blue Popsicles.

One of these lunatics had to leave, before they dragged her into their cesspit of rage and aggression until her face was regularly contorted with rage, all she could go was insult people, and ultimately she turned into them. It would not due: there was no way she could pull off being a blonde like those two.

Juuhachigou wouldn't just go…Although, to be fair, she had left a few times. But Kami's place was too boring, Launch had a tendency to either scream at her, or want to braid her hair and Tien and Choatzu did nothing to help, and Piccolo spent all his time under a waterfall or in the desert, or babysitting Gohan and Goten with Chi-Chi, who didn't care much for the blonde cyborg. Her brother…well, Bulma wasn't even sure what had happened there. Only that Juuhachigou brought her an unconscious Juunanagou to her, to have an arm pulled back into his socket.

Bulma had thought about giving her a stipend and getting her a place in the city, but after watching her taking a swing at Vegeta, she realized that the cyborg needed someone nearby that could help calm her down. Or at least, when she snapped and hurt/killed them, the other fighters would be able to sense it.

The other place the android refused to even think about going. No matter how many times Bulma told her that Krillin was a nice guy that wouldn't try anything (the truth), and that the perverts weren't too bad and wouldn't dare do anything to her (a lie), Juuhachigou would just give her a cold eyed stare and refuse to listen. But if she thought an occasional needy look from Krillin, and an occasional dirty movie and magazine were bad, Bulma would show her how much worse this place would be.

She talked Vegeta into her lab, and out of his leotard.

When someone came in, angrily asking what she needed now, the Saiyan just froze instead of hiding behind a table, and only made things worse. Juuhachigou looked at the blue-haired woman, horrified. Truly horrified, as though she'd witnessed a man being turned inside out.

The blonde cyborg shuddered, and turned away. "I never want to see that again. Ever. God."

"You know, I hear the South's lovely this time." Above her, Vegeta's face was carved out of stone.

"Fine. You win.…I'll go to…I think I'm going to Kame house for awhile."

65. Shy

Her first real job, real legal, tax paying job that she wouldn't be arrested for, was at a bar. The pay wasn't bad, it took up the hours that she otherwise would have spent doing god knows what at night, but it also only made drifting through her classes easier. Through the tired light of day, how much could you care about elasticity of supply, and what this group did to this group a hundred years ago (it was always terrible). She could do well enough, but nothing exactly interested her.

Sure, there were drawbacks. Pushy drunks, and vomit, and spilled liquor and the horrifying bathroom aftermaths. Getting groped by idiots, and people who didn't tip or wanted a complicated cocktail that only the club up the street served right. The music.

But she was no longer hassled by the police, and it was safer here with a sawed off shotgun under the counter.

Still, even when she had would count the wad of cash in her apron pocket as she left the dark grey and black building with its gothic structure and interior, it didn't mean the drawbacks could be ignored. Especially now, as she listened to her brother joking with another bartender in-between exchanging insults with the cook in back. She'd been closer to the mop, and this was her punishment for that. Her hair hung in her face, feeling sweat running down her neck, and as she mopped up the last patrons previous meal, the blonde woman imagined shoving her co-worker's arms into the huge garbage disposal in the kitchen.

When a group of people came in, new or at least she'd never seen them in here before during her shift, Juuhachigou had worked here long enough to know which one would pay, and who would leave a good tip.

The short one with the huge Freudian hair wouldn't give her a dime, but the big happy one would, perhaps not being able to read which was a ten and which was a twenty, and wish her a good day even though it was night. The two bald, humorless ones would give her maybe ten, fifteen percent, and the scarred one might ask for her number. She didn't even care really about a few bucks. Right now, she just wanted a shower and a long nap.

Then someone else came in, yelling at them for leaving him behind to dig through the car for a dime to put into the machine. He just froze, staring at her, and making her wonder how mussed her hair was. When he sat down with his friends, he was silent and kept staring at her. Which made her paranoid, and she wondered if she and her brother had once jumped and rolled the guy. But she couldn't remember robbing him, and his shortness made him stick out like a sore thumb.

But if he had a problem with her, he kept it to himself. Even when he came back the next night, and the night after that, and the following night, never saying a word to her beyond his stuttering order which was always an absurd grape soda. And since she was sure he wasn't a cop on the stakeout and wasn't about to charge her with anything, she didn't say anything to him either.

66. Dwelling On It

The thought went off in her head with more strength than any bomb, explosion, and blast that she could have physically done: Oh god, I want to kiss him again.

What?

What?

How had that thought come to her? All she'd been doing was staring at the back of his head, bored, and he'd turned to give her a small patient smile that asked for her just to wait a little while longer while he and his friends fawned over the new addition to their gang. Before the bolt of random insanity struck her, Juuhachigou had reflected that it was much better to be near him since he'd stopped acting like a hurt puppy around her, as well as grown his hair out.

Why would he ever shave his head? So much easier on the eyes now.

And then, her mind had become momentarily unhinged. Just a little, a crack large enough to let the craziness in. Her stomach had given a twinge and what was that feeling…? It was unpleasant, vulnerable, and she didn't mind experiencing it again.

She wanted to take the thought back. Like a bad move when they played chess; so long as you kept your fingers on the piece, you could move it back. Since it was so clearly emblazoned into her head, she could remove it just as easily.

I did not think that. No. I did not.

Everyone had a stupid idea every now and then after all. That had just been one of those. It was nothing. She didn't even want to express it again, even paraphrasing it or try to think about what had caused it. Really. It hadn't truly happened.

Then Krillin stood up and nearly made her jump from her seat in the small cheery kitchen. He moved towards her, and she'd never properly noticed the ease of his grace in some moments when he wasn't tripping over his own feet. The small, casually clad man leaned next to her, his shirt very blue, and he was saying "Sorry about this. Did you see the baby? He looks just like Goku!"

His smile was wide, easy and adoring while he thought about his best friend and his new godson, smell the shampoo and condition in his hair, the soap he used on his skin, and Juuhachigou could almost feel the warmth from his body.

Everyone was looking at the baby and the twice-over mother, no one was looking in their direction in the least, no one would see or take notice or care, she could do whatever she wanted to him right now and his idiotic friends would never know, right here. Just pull him down, lace her fingers behind his neck which would soon grow sweaty from nervousness, and just put her mouth against…hell, why not against his?

She could do it right now.

Krillin wouldn't mind.

Her stomach lurched again, and Juuhachigou ignored her sensors informing her of her heightening breathing and faster heartbeat and dry mouth and clammy hands. A five second movie of his scared face as she leaned in, mockingly cheerful and teasing, the soft, unfamiliar feeling of skin against hers, even more exotic since she was not planning on hurt him…

She just wouldn't think about it again. It was nothing. This horrible, powerful, mind destroying thought would be tucked away to be inspected every fifteen seconds, interspersed with staring at him and replaying those short seconds of their first kiss that had warped them both immeasurably.

67. Apples

It was a cliché, although neither seemed aware of it. She dangled it before Krillin's eyes, and no snake had ever held such an evil expression.

"One bite," this mysterious, inhuman creature whispered to the closest thing Master Roshi had to a son. "Just one."

"Juuhachigou," Krillin pleaded, pulling away. Even her name was just another sign of her inhumanity. Not a name, a number. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"It's the last one. And Oolong called dibs on it."

Her smile was cheeky. "I would have thought the pig would avoid having an apple in his mouth. Someone might get ideas."

"Juu," But as awful as hearing her assigned number on the short man's lips, this nickname was worse. "He apologized for before."

"Only after I threatened to make a bacon cheeseburger out of him." The android leaned in much too close to him, still holding the red fruit before his face. "You know you want it."

The old Martial Artist had tried numerous times to talk sense into Krillin. He tried to bring up the three years spent training for their arrival, the way they'd defeated his friends without breaking a sweat, and Krillin had only sighed like a schoolboy in love. "You should have seen how amazing she looked when she beat Vegeta up."

He expressed his doubts about her emotions, what she could feel, how his friends would react if he told them that he was seeing one of the murderous androids that had wiped out most of the population in a different timeline. The turtle master stony gaze was met with Krillin's eyes widening with amazement, "You think she would want to date me? Really?"

You couldn't reason with that.

Then he went onto list her flaws, straight out. "She's mean, she will never respect you, she can hurt you without a single thing, don't you think you should find someone who shares your values?"

And wouldn't he want a woman who wasn't so skinny and would have a nicer ass, and bigger hips than a twelve-year old boy?

Which actually got a reaction from Krillin. He stared at his Master with huge eyes. "You don't think Juuhachigou is beautiful."

Roshi shrugged. "Her chest is okay. But don't you think she's a little too pale? A little spooky eyed?"

"No," he shook his head, wide-eyed. It was as though the old man had revealed that he thought the earth was flat. Bizarre, and so crazy that you couldn't attack this belief. "She's easily the most amazing woman I've ever met.

"Her forehead is too big." And Krillin pulled back, as though scandalized.

"You did not just say that."

And then Krillin had stomped away, still shocked. The retired Martial Artist hadn't seen the boy again until the following day when Juuhachigou had stopped by. The happy grin that erupted on the short fighter's face, the one pupil that had remained, when he heard a polite, mocking knock on the door reminded Roshi that he was losing him to her literally steely grasp. He'd nearly wagged a tail in delight over seeing her again.

"Just eat the damn apple." Her own odd way of stirring up tension here, and establishing control over Krillin.

But Krillin resisted, and Master Roshi felt a surge of pride. "No thanks Juu. I don't want to make Oolong mad. He might hide under my bed, then wait until I'm asleep and then transform into a Minotaur. Again."

"You could always buy another mattress. Or have someone look under there for you." Her tone was slightly arched. Bless the boy for not realizing that, since Krillin did not turn red and have a stroke.

Personally, he felt a little ill.

She looked attractive enough, albeit a little cold, if you just met or saw a picture of her. If you knew what was under the clear skin and pale eyes, you'd run away and hope she didn't shoot you in the back. So long as you weren't a sweet, kind, short man who had bad luck with woman, and an unhappy childhood that left you desperate for someone to care, that was.

But Krillin was waving her hand away.

"Fine." She sighed, but her voice contained a timbre of humor. "But eventually I'll get you to eat fruit."

Master Roshi straightened his magazine with a humph.

"Well, if that's what you want," the boy was smiling. Carefully, he clasped Juuhachigou's hand and led her into the kitchen. "I think there are some strawberries in the back of the crisper."

As they left the room, the hermit had a feeling that she was mentally sticking her tongue out at him and waving a middle finger.

68. Fairy Tale

After opening the red-emblazed windows, she threw another pebble at the tree, trying to judge exactly how far it was. In a few years, maybe the branches would outstretch for enough for her to safely jump for it.

Just a few more years. Ten, maybe twenty.

Juuhachigou tore down another tapestry with one hand and threw it into the fireplace.

The terrible smell of it burning comforted her, and she imagined what this castle would smell like if she set it ablaze. Brimstone. Glorious brimstone and ash. The flames would burn for hours, if not days. And she would dance around it, remembering her long life, the terrible memories, and the awful pink frilly dresses she'd been forced to wear. The ridiculous hats and scarves and the goddamn petticoats and underclothes and the terrible corsets.

"Hey!"

Slowly, she glanced down. Bright, shiny, eye-searing armor glistened, and the owner of it waved at her. He pushed up the helm, revealing a pale face and hopeful, strained eyes. It was must have been terribly hot beneath that armor-the man must have been cooking in it. Why he was going around on a summer day dressed like that, she had no idea. Beneath him, a worn brown horse whinnied.

"Are you Juuhachigou?"

She looked at him for a long moment. "Nope. I think you got the wrong castle."

His mouth dropped. "What? Really? Damnit, I've been looking everywhere and…" Then he glanced back up at her, suspicious. Juuhachigou rolled her eyes. It was painful, dealing with these morons. But it was, as her brother might have said jokingly, in her contract. She missed her useless twin, if only for his ability to scare her would-be suitors off. He could not defeat the dragon, since he had his own 'contract' to fulfill as well as lacking the strength, but he could stand such idiots no more than she could.

"This is the right castle, isn't it?"

As though the dotted the landscape, especially this far north. But it was best to play dumb. "For what?" She stared at her fingernails, traced a crack in the heavy grey stone.

"To save the princess." An eager grin made him look even dumber. Just another hero with big dreams about winning a princess' hand and a kingdom. And a dragon head to stare at on his wall while putting a well-bred notch on his bedpost.

"You idiot."

"What?"

"You're supposed to come in winter."

"No one told me that."

The blonde woman sighed. "Of course not." Now he stood not a chance, and she wondered if this foolish man had any enemies and that were trying to kill him by giant flaming lizard.

He wiped away a layer of sweat. "Where's the dragon?"

She tapped on the crack, wondering if she could jam a candlestick into it hard enough to widen it. Then she could throw the stone at this moron and go back to bed. It was too hot for this nonsense.

Juuhachigou pointed to the left. "Around back. It's the giant green and black lizard that will try to kill you."

"Thank you." He held up a hand as thanks, before lowering the front of his helm, and nudged the old, bedraggled brown horse forward. Then he paused. The knight stared up at her. She couldn't make out his expression at all.

"And the princess…" His tone was oddly gentle. Its patient tone made her realize that he was older than she'd expected.

Juuhachigou sighed. "Is me."

"Ah." He was still looking up at her, and she could hear embarrassment in his voice. Then he glanced down, as though bashful. He shied away from woman more than a horse around fire, Juuhachigou realized, disbelievingly.

I'll be glad when this one dies.

It's just too pathetic. The dragon will be an act of mercy.

But it was rare to get more than a leer and a testosterone driven yell for her hand that was more a demand than a request. Besides, she was bored. "You should come back in the winter. The dragon hibernates then. Of course, you still don't stand a chance. But when it's resting you have better odds of getting a good shot in."

"No," he shook his head, sounding oh so brave. Now she was okay with smelling his charred body in a few minutes. "I'm going to save you now, miss."

"'Miss'?"

"Lady," the knight sounded sheepish. "My lady." He bowed his head to her.

"Whatever." She slammed the windows shut, ignoring his amazed face that was apparent even through the air slits in the heavy steel.

But still, she couldn't help sparing a glance at him. Especially when he led the horse away from the castle. Just as she'd lost sight of him behind the rocks that littered the area, she heard a whistle. Just as she stood up, her brother burst into the room. As usual he smelled of the armory: hot metal and sweat. And horses, unfortunately.

"Gero told me that a group of knights-"

There was a battle cry, and she saw a half dozen armored knights riding past. The one from before was riding with them, and she nearly nodded to him in respect. It was, sadly, a better strategy than most of the ones that had come before. Of course, this threw his claim into question since he wouldn't necessarily be the one to defeat the dragon, but had still talked to her and established that he wanted her hand.

Bad news for him.

She nearly smiled.

But it was irrelevant. Since any second they would be hurtled through the air.

Juuhachigou had no way of viewing the battle. There were no windows facing that direction, in case the dragon ever grew hungry enough to reach for her and somehow became smart enough to find a way to grab her. Which was very unlikely since Juunanagou had thrown stones to tease the dragon, always managing to get away before so much as a hair was singed.

So she was left listening to the yells, the cursing, the threats that were not necessarily directed solely at the monster, the screams of pain, and more threats and cursing. She didn't entirely blame them, it wasn't exactly a festival out there of course, yet, still thought they had a rage problem.

Her brother listened, mouth open, catching her eye every few seconds and grinning clownishly at the particularly thoughtful insults. He moved a shoulder up slightly, asking, what do you think?

She shook her head. Then heard a roar of the dragon in pain.

Juuhachigou settled for a shrug of her own, maybe.

Juunanagou grabbed her arm after another cry from the beast. "Come on, let's go see it!"

Since she couldn't find an excuse to say no, she willingly was dragged along. On the way, she was able to tear down more tapestry and armor that would drive Juukyugou insane.

"Who did this," he would yell, his high pitched voice rising even higher. "It was you, wasn't it Juunanagou!"

"Me?" Her brother would stare at him, innocently. "Never."

And Juuhachigou would smile behind her goblet, noticing how the wine was sweeter when someone else was upset.

On the way down the many stairs, she tried not to trip on her long skirt, and to keep her hopes dead.

Outside, she stared at her 'heroes.' Weirdoes, the lot of them. One of them was as green as the dragon, the rest worse. And the big guy had his arm around a boy, who was looking as out of place as he was bloody. "Way to go, Gohan!"

"Thanks Dad." But he didn't look especially happy, even as he dragged behind a dragon head, and Juuhachigou refused to marry a boy that couldn't be more than ten-years-old. She would fashion a noose. But, the child hadn't spoken to her, and meant that he hadn't sort of asked for her hand since he hadn't made his intentions clear to her. A helpful loophole.

No, the boy hadn't. But the other man…

The he bowed before her, taking off his helm and revealing hair as dark as his eyes hanging into his face. "My lady."

"Wow, you're short."

He froze. "Uh, yeah."

"So…you were the one to talk to me." She eyed him, wondering how exactly it was possible for a man to be born without a nose. "Are you aware of the rules?"

The knight blinked. "Excuse me."

"You weren't the one to defeat the dragon?"

He shook his head.

"But you were the one to talk to me and mention that you wanted a princess." Her disgust was apparent, she wanted him to know how horrible she found him and his friends who'd saved her. The scarred man tugged at the big man's armored shoulder and asked, "So who gets to marry the chick? Krillin?"

The short man froze. Eyes as wide as a boy around his first girl. How could he have been a knight?

Juuhachigou wasn't sure if she should pray that the boy was 'Krillin' or the noseless knight.

Juunanagou finally said something. "Well, I know you have to talk to her before you can marry her."

"Gohan definitely didn't do that." And both the child and Juuhachigou breathed a sigh of relief.

"…Krillin did."

He was better than the ten-year-old, Juuhachigou was willing to give him that. Although no taller than him.

"Princess?" He was resting on one knee, and she nearly ran away back into the castle.

"I just wanted you to know," his jaw was clenched and he blinked sporadically and didn't look her in the eye. "That I will not force you to marry me."

"Good," Juuhachigou said slowly, suddenly aware that he was still bowed as though asking for her hand. There was a catch. There would always be a catch. He did not want to marry her because he was already married and so legally could not take another wife. But oh, he could take that kingdom since he did save her. Then marry her off to one of his bizarre friends, one of whom had a scar like a third eye on his forehead, another with even more scars, a big guy with an idiotic grin, a shorter, furious one nursing a wounded arm, the green one. They were all very tall it seemed. Except for the two short ones.

The big one shook her hand. "Hi, I'm Goku."

Her lips pursed, and her brother exhaled loudly. And then, before they could even say anything to the second part of the contract, the big part that said that they could leave as soon as they killed a goofy-haired moron named Goku, Gero and Juukyugou burst through the door, armed and armored.

69. Fourth of July

Her brother, for all his faults, was the reason they all saw each other. He even served as an icebreaker. Or at least, his screams did as he caught abruptly on fire as the bottle rocket Krillin had set off exploded onto his face and clothes.

Bulma's fault really. She'd waggled the 'newly improved' firework before his face while Goten and Trunks cheered and danced around, begging to be the one to set it off. But Krillin wanted to be the responsible adult, and therefore was the one to light the fuse with a grin of excitement as it immediately flew off.

And maybe, it was Bulma's fault as well for saying, oh no, I'm sure using the forest nearby will be fine. It's empty, and you know, a little forest fire might be good. She went onto explaining that some trees could only spread their seeds through catching afire, and so bored, Krillin just nodded and agreed to go into the woods with the boys. Together, they pretended they were doing more than distracting two small children with fire.

But Juunanagou…Krillin could even feel sorry for the normally cold-hearted cyborg as he rolled around and yelled about his clothes and he better still have eyebrows, or he would murder every human on this planet.

Thankfully, he still had them. Although the short human didn't notice that or his exact words as he saw Juuhachigou staring at him. She looked exactly the same, except for her clothes, which were new. She looked quite adorable in her flannel shirt and jeans and boots, like a model from a catalogue rather than anyone who might be camping.

Around them, more fireworks were set off by the small children not far away, them dancing in the bright multi colored sparks, streams of pretty light that left the smell of gunpowder in the air. They cheered, and Trunks expertly flicked another match one –handed, to Goten's awe. A trick he could have learned from either parent, in all honesty.

But, no matter how many fireworks shrieked and exploded, no matter how many sparks showered down and set Juunanagou on fire again, Krillin and Juuhachigou could only looked at each other.

70. Seeing you cry

She swore, she hadn't meant to do this. She'd wanted to give the child up, to hand her if not literally over to Krillin who would know exactly what to do and how to handle this tiny person. He could be a parent, with his endless patience and kindness.

Juuhachigou had no business with a child; it was only the thought of the other person responsible for the baby that kept her carrying the infant to term. The cyborg stared at the cheerless yellow walls and wondered what exactly to do. Did she take the child to Krillin, or call him and tell him he was a father and to pick up his infant?

But then, the baby had started to weep.

Awkwardly, still aching, she sat up and stared at it. Large, accusing eyes that matched the father's squinted back at her. Juuhachigou couldn't just let her cry, so for the first time since the child had been born, she held her painfully. Bonding. She definitely needed not to bond with this thing. Even looking at it was literally making her heart ache unaccustomedly. The baby, still nameless since what did Juuhachigou know about names when she herself only had a number, weighed nothing.

A mother should protect her child, shouldn't she?

Did that mean that the baby was safer from her? God knew she wasn't the mothering type, not a true mother even after giving birth...But how could she leave this defenseless thing alone? Her thin flaxen hair covering the delicate misshapen skull only made it look more helpless. No nose. Was that why she was weeping?

Juuhachigou nearly smiled down at the child. The tiny grasping hands and squinting face.

Now that she was holding her daughter, feeling the baby's breathe, hearing the gurgling since she was no longer crying, she couldn't bring herself to put her down again.

71. Food

After spending fifteen minutes poking at it, putting it into the microwave and then the freezer again, they just poked at it. It was whitish, covered in a film of blueness and covered in wrapping and resting on a plate covered with frost. This was to be their meal.

Neither was willing to go shopping, even if this was the only thing to eat in the entire house aside from the ice trays. Although married for long enough to no longer keep track, they didn't have a schedule for doing chores. He might go shopping, but this time she hadn't cleaned the bathroom, so didn't that mean that she had to get the groceries.

"I think it's an ice cream cake. Look, that's frosting."

"Oh my god," Juuhachigou said dully. "It's a piece of our wedding cake."

72. our own world

"Hey, you know," Krillin prodded her back. "That woman looks like you."

"Shut up and stop checking girls out. What do you want to order?"

"Just a burger."

"We come all the way out here, and that's what you get?"

"I can order what I want. Besides, we have to make it back home before Master Roshi tried to use Marron to pick up girls."

When they sat down, he still couldn't keep his eyes in his head. "Really. She looks like you. Actually, she looks like your brother."

Finally, unable to resist, Juuhachigou stole a look at her. "Eh. A little I guess."

"Uh-oh. She noticed you staring at her."

The blonde woman immediately turned away. "Damnit, Krillin."

Krillin was turning away, picking up his drink and trying to hide his face behind it. "She's coming over, oh crap."

"Oh my god, is that you baby?" The woman was weeping, and running to Juuhachigou. Who just stared at her as Krillin made a choking noise behind his glass.

"Where have you been? My god, where have you been, darling? We looked everywhere for you and your brother." She had a lot of pearls and good jewelry, and her suit was an expensive piece of fabric in a fine cut. Her haircut must have costs quite a bit as well. The woman had good taste.

Well.

It wasn't as though taste was necessarily an indication of genes. After all, look at her brother.

"Where have you been? Where's your brother?"

Oh, in the woods somewhere, howling at a wolf and tearing apart a tree with his bare hands. He can do that, you know, since he's a cyborg. We both are.

Are you my mother?

There was of course nothing she could say.

Across the table, Krillin was wearing a shocked grin, mouthing 'oh my god' as well. "Are you this woman's mom?" He pointed to Juuhachigou, as though she was there, but at best a mannequin.

"Yes," she was sniffling. "I am. Who are you?"

Krillin was beaming, and Juuhachigou could see her future laid out for the next few weeks, if not years. Baby pictures exchanged, embarrassing antidotes, and this woman would babysit and spoil Marron, and adopt Krillin as one of their own.

With her, he would get the mother that he always wanted, and they would make holiday meals together, laughing instead of weeping in a cascade of despair and stress when the water boiled over for the potatoes like he did when he had to do everything alone and was stressed out from all the holiday crap. They would hug in the parlor room, talk about what misadventures their children had done this time, while she sat there holding a cup of tea she didn't want, and Juunanagou got mud from his shoes on everything.

Was her father alive?

She could remember neither of her parents. Her brother probably didn't either.

How would she ever explain any of this? Anything?

What they needed was to excuse themselves, no, sorry, you have the wrong woman, and slip out the back. Bad enough that she couldn't remember this well-dressed lady, and worse why and how she didn't.

"I'm her husband! We have a newborn daughter together, her name's Marron. I have pictures." Never before had Juuhachigou been more annoyed at his tendency to pull out his wallet and show baby pictures than now. He had so many of them, and he refused to remove the one of her, right after giving birth, pale faced and barely conscious of her surroundings and the baby in her arms. Or the one where Marron had spat up on her shirt, and Juuhachigou could only stare at her giggling daughter. Nor would he part with the one of her daughter putting facepaint on her mother's face as she slept in.

"You…got married? You have a child?" Even if she'd never really met her, this woman's blue eyes pierced her. They made Juuhachigou want to say 'I'm sorry' although she hadn't done anything wrong. "Does your brother know?"

"He gave away the bride."

The lady began weeping again, and the blonde could now see the wrinkles that the makeup had skillfully hidden until the ringed fingers had wiped it away. "Your father had hoped to one day do that."

"'Your father'?" Krillin squeezed his wife's arm. "You have a dad, isn't that amazing?"

"And your brother? Your baby brother? He is okay, isn't he?"

"You mean…'baby brother'?" Krillin looked at Juuhachigou.

"He's the younger one," the cyborg sighed.

Krillin grabbed her elbow, and Juuhachigou punched his shoulder. "That's adorable."

Her mother was staring at them both, uncertain. "He is alright, isn't he? He was always a delicate boy."

The short man tugged at his collar. "'Delicate'? Uh. He's got a small place in the woods that he lives in."

"Oh, so he's a forest ranger?"

Both Krillin and Juuhachigou gave each other horrified glances. He managed out, "Yes. Yes he is."

"Where have you been, the two of you? You ran away before, but never for so long."

And there was no reply from Juuhachigou. There was no explanation she could give her. At best, her mother would simply think she was lying, if not outright insane. Her life story was definitely a case of 'you had to be there.' She couldn't explain any of her life to someone who was an outsider, a stranger.

73. Foot

Roughly twelve inches of space separate them, and they seemed insurmountable.

She looked at him, torn before relief because on either side of him was Goku and Vegeta, and just a few inches to the left or right was all it would have taken to have gotten one of them. Juuhachigou would have flat out rejected that, and stomped away, and no one would have blamed her. But he was not taken, especially by any of the women in this room that would tear her piece to piece if she dared touch him.

His eyes fell downward, counting out the space again. Chanting, like the swelling of a bee hive, rose in his ears. Kiss her, kiss her! There was a gold bangle on her left hand. A pair of black gloves on both hands that were balled into fists. Dark jeans and a darker vest through over a light shirt. When Krillin glanced up, her eyes were too angry to be dead.

In order to make this all end, he needed to lean forward, to rest his weight on his hands, and look up at her. She might move closer, or he would have to come all that way, all those inches, to touch her. It would make everything end, everything. All he needed, Krillin swallowed slowly, was to just avoid landing on the bottle as he moved in front of her, and leave the rest to her. He didn't even need to actually kiss her, just look like he was maybe willing, and if she stomped off, it would be fine.

Juuhachigou already seemed to rightly suspect something.

Her stares when he would ask if she wanted to come over to watch television or help him with his biology homework were already becoming tainted with suspicion. She no longer thoughtlessly would allow him to carry her books when they would walk home together. Sitting on the bus, she was sure to put her backpack in the space between them. Krillin needed to either completely make it clear he only thought of her as a friend, or put everything on the table and show that he was interested in her. Harder to say which was more terrifying.

He had kissed girls before. The lizard, animal brain buried deep inside of him would take over gradually, and he could walk away thinking there was nothing to it. Only, with the blonde teenager, he didn't think he could shut his brain down. With her, he couldn't just calm down and not stare at her, imagining touching her, leaning against her, kissing her, taking off her clothes, and Juuhachigou allowing him. Daydreaming over what if she liked him, just a little.

He could back up. Just get up and act the part of the gentleman. A slight laugh, oh come one, we're just friends and it would be right. They wouldn't talk about it, and maybe tomorrow he would find it within himself to move on and find another girl.

He would leave tonight, nod to her while he jumped on his moped and sped away, hoping he looked mildly cool. When he'd met her, she'd been dressed in denim, punkish despite her clean schoolgirl looks, and on the back of a motorcycle she and her twin shared. It stuck with him, even as he tried to ignore it when he looked online for bikes and settled on a moped as a compromise to his size and need for something more impressive than a ten-speed.

But, no matter what his mind told him, he just remained frozen, looking at Juuhachigou, who had the same expression. They just stared at each other, spooked, frozen, as their friends continued on, groaning and shuddered and refusing when the bottle landed on someone that repulsed them.

74. Metal

He was not going to propose to her. The last time he'd thought of doing so…and just the memories made him want to jump up and scream in frustration and disappointment and so, so much relief.

If he had asked Maron to marry him, and she'd said yes, what life would he be living right now? Would they have those three children and fancy white picketed house and cheerful pets that would come in through the fancy doggy door he would install?

And what about when he met Juuhachigou? She'd stolen his heart in one kiss, but was that because he'd been single? Was it just because Juuhachigou was perfect for him? Could he have stayed married to Maron if he had met the cyborg who had thoughtlessly stolen his heart? Would he have even met her, or stayed home to take care of his wife and kids? What if…he never met Juuhachigou?

The thought nearly made his clutch his heart.

Thank god for how everything turned out, he reflected, looking out onto the sea that he'd once swam in with a blue-haired woman who bounced between being sweet to him, or ignoring him in favor of someone she thought was cuter. The sun made everything glow, and the golden shine reminded him of the very blonde cyborg.

The only time Juuhachigou ignored him was when she shopped. Or was pissed at him, which drove him crazy with frustration and made him want to jump into a fountain like the actors did in commercials for depression medication to get her attention. He wanted to sing to her, to grab her, to have a tantrum and save a bunch of kids to get her to look at him again.

Once, when she'd done this, he'd finally snapped and thrown a snow cone at her which eventually resulted in them, both artificial syrup covered, getting literally tossed out of the fair. They'd laughed as soon as the security guard turned his back, laughed until they'd been in tears, smiling at each other and understanding that everything was okay. Then she started to complain about getting her clothes dirty, and he'd slung an arm around her shoulders and led her back home. Their happy, forgiving kisses on the way to Kami house made him first wonder how he could have ever spent his life without her.

Krillin definitely wanted to spend the rest of his life with Juuhachigou, and planned on doing so. Just without the marriage part. The freedom of not thinking about being a husband was luxurious. Who knew, maybe if Juuhachigou couldn't have kids, he would learn to be perfectly fine without the thought of someday being addressed as dad. Without kids, after all, they would have more time with each other. They would just be together, without any complicated titles that they didn't need. Each other was all they needed.

All his friends with their offspring, and the fights and arguments and snide remarks at the dinner parties because someone hadn't changed someone's diaper, and someone was dead and would never have to give someone a bath. Who needed any of that? A child would be great, sure, but he could live without one. To think he'd once been jealous of that.

They could just babysit, and then come home to a quiet house. Their friends would be grateful and a little envious because at Kami house, no toilet was ever plugged from a diaper.

A drowsy smile crossed his face, just as her shadow fell upon him.

She settled down without a word, although when he rested his head against her thigh, she stroked his hair absently.

"I was just thinking about you, Juu."

"I was thinking about you as well." Her tone was serious, and although he kept his eyes closed, he could see her pushing back a strand of hair and licking her lips. "I went to see your friends."

Now his eyes slid open. A heavy weight, lead, began to drift down to line the bottom of his stomach. This could not be good. His friends, no matter how much he loved them, had a nasty tendency of messing up his love life. The blind double dates they'd set up to sabotage with their fights, the way with one remark they could scare away the few woman who would talk to him, the questions peppered down on any girls that might appear to like him, him, really, why Krillin, why, why why why, what is going on in your head?

"I plan on spending the rest of my life—or rather, you life—with you, Krillin. So we should get married. And," her voice fumbled. "It might be good. In the long run for…Since. Since I'm pregnant."

When she took his hand, he was so numb he did not notice the new ring, except for the flash of it in the sun.

75. the space between dream and reality

With Juuhachigou, the turtle master didn't dare give his say or no say on whether or not Krillin could date her. There were technicalities, such as Krillin no longer being a fighter, but it really came down to not believing that they were an actual couple. Also, Juuhachigou might have thrown him through a wall had he said anything about her needed his approval.

The boy could be charmingly sweet, but women did not necessarily care about that in a man. Especially one like the cyborg. She didn't even seem the type to allow anyone close to her; let alone stoop so low as to date the man they insulted at every attempt he made to have conversation.

She did however have fun turning his need to be nice to pretty girls into a game. Sometimes she would lean against him out on the beach. And sometimes he and Oolong would hear mysterious noises from one of their bedrooms, and see one of them sneaking out. Eye contract would be made, bold, which turned the other two all uncomfortable. But when they'd find Krillin making breakfast, they chalked the bruises up to late night sparring, and tried not to think about ruffled clothing.

And besides, Krillin never went around with his arm on her, showing her off. "Oh yeah, this is my girlfriend."

Juuhachigou might pet the top of his head like a pet, but that didn't mean she owned him-she had no right to lead him on like that.

Master Roshi snorted as he tossed aside the wedding invitation.

Meanwhile, hundreds of miles up north, Juunanagou fell to his knees, screaming "No! I was joking! What do you mean, you aren't doing this to spite me" as Juuhachigou handed him the wedding invitation with the hundred dollars she owed him for losing the bet they'd met long ago inside.