Eighteen glared at her cell phone as she flipped it open. After her little discovery minutes earlier, she had excused herself from their little party to try to figure out just what exactly was going on. She quickly dialed and brought the phone up, an angry look on her face as Yamcha picked up the other line.

"Put my husband on," she coolly commanded. As she waited for someone else to come on the line, the blonde walked all the way outside and leaned against the exterior wall of the house.

A small shuffle was heard on the other side. "Hello?"

"What the hell is going on?" Eighteen hissed.

"Oh, hi honey!" her husband cheerfully responded.

"What the hell is going on?" she repeated, making sure to keep her angry voice as quiet as possible. "I just did a ki scan of everyone, and Vegeta's is almost nonexistent."

Krillen shifted the phone to his shoulder as he wiped off his hands with a dish towel. "I don't know," he sighed. The short man glanced over his shoulder to make sure that the children were well out of hearing range before continuing. "Goku and Vegeta were fighting it out for a while, but when the fight broke up they were both still, well, noticeable. It was a couple minutes later that we felt Goku and Gohan spike, and by the time that happened…"

Eighteen rolled her eyes. "So Goku knocked the bastard out," she concluded. It made perfect sense, after all. Vegeta flew off the handle when he was worked up, and it stood reasonable to conclude that the taller Saiyan would have taken the prince down hard in order to keep him contained.

"No."

The blonde stiffened slightly. "No?" she repeated. "Then why…"

"I don't know," Krillen softly said. "Yamcha and I were trying to track the fight from here, but we only can tell so much from a distance." Again, he checked over his shoulder to make sure that the children could not hear him. "It was about three minutes after the fight ended that Vegeta disappeared and Goku spiked, and they weren't next to each other when it happened."

"Shit," she muttered, whipping around in frustration. "I thought we were supposed to be trying to put this family back together, not kill them off one by one."

"Eighteen," Krillen said in a soothing voice, "take it easy. I've been keeping tabs from here. Yes, it bottomed out there for a while, but they went straight up to Dende and Vegeta's been stabilized. I don't know what went wrong, but everything seems to be fine. Gohan's back with Trunks, who is still asleep. Goku and Piccolo are up on the Lookout with Dende, keeping an eye on Vegeta. And you and Chi-Chi are keeping Bulma sane, right?"

Sighing, his wife slumped slightly against the wall. "Right," she softly said. "If anything else comes up, please let me know."

"I will, honey," Krillen softly said. "I wish we could talk longer, but Yamcha's just been tackled by Goten and our sweet little girl is about to tickle him to death. I really should finish making their snack and save my friend from a giggling death."

With a smirk, Eighteen wrapped an arm around her waist. "In that order, right?"

"Do you know a better way to distract Goten?" Krillen replied with a soft laugh. "Look, I gotta go. I love you!"

Eighteen smiled softly to herself. "I love you, too," she quietly said before hanging up. She slowly slid the phone into her pocket and returned to the other two mothers inside.

/////

"Would you like something to eat?"

Goku turned around to glance at Dende. The young Namekian had grown substantially since the Saiyan had died eight years earlier, and even though he had been back for over a year, it still took him a moment to process the change. "No, thank you," he quietly answered.

Piccolo perked slightly at that response. "Son Goku, turning down food?"

With a sad look on his face, the Saiyan shook his head. "I'm sorry, guys, but I really just don't feel like eating or anything right now."

Shooting a glance at the youngest alien, Piccolo gave a slight nod toward the palace. Dende took the hint and excused himself, claiming that he had some unfinished business to attend to and leaving the two warriors alone.

"What is it?" the taller fighter asked.

Goku ran his fingers roughly through his hair. "I don't know," he quietly said, starting to pace. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know what it is. All I know is that lately, it feels like everything I'm doing is just getting in the way. I yelled at Bulma when she was in a coma, I had a breakdown when we were supposed to be keeping an eye on the kids, I ran away when Bulma's dad asked me how she was, I let my fear of needles risk Trunks' life, and I nearly killed Vegeta when I was supposed to be helping him calm down!"

The Saiyan paused his pacing, and his arms dropped to his sides in defeat. "What's wrong with me?" he whispered. "I used to always know what to do! I never used to let anything bother me! I…I just can't seem to get it right anymore…"

The warrior sat down on the pristine ground of the Lookout and hung his head. "Everything's just been so wrong lately," he softly said. "Everything's wrong and for once, I have no idea how to make it right."

Not being particularly skilled at comforting, Piccolo simply opted to stand in silence. He, too, had noticed that the Saiyan had been off his game as of late, and while he had his own theories of why exactly that may be, he would not speak them out loud.

It could only make things worse.

/////

"Come on, Goten, it's your turn!" Marron cheerfully encouraged. When the little boy did not react, she frowned and leaned her head to the side. "Goten?" she asked. "Goten, it's your turn! Roll the dice!"

The half Saiyan boy blinked as he looked at his blonde friend. "Huh?" he asked.

Marron rolled her eyes. "It's your turn," she repeated, starting to get frustrated.

"Oh," the elder child responded. "Sorry, I guess I kinda spaced out for a while."

The little girl leaned her head to the other side before getting up and walking around the game board. "Goten?" she gently asked. "Why don't you wanna play the game anymore?"

Goten sighed and looked out the window, toward the beach. "I'm sorry," he genuinely apologized. "I just really miss playing with Trunks."

Marron huffed and pushed his head. "What, I'm not fun enough to play with?"

"Hey!" Goten protested, staring at his younger friend and moving out of the reach of her arms. "I didn't say you weren't fun! I said that I miss playing with Trunks!" He frowned and looked down at the floor. "I've never been away from him for this long."

The boy's lower lip began to quiver, and he kept his eyes on the rug. "He's my best friend, Marron," he went on, his lip trembling. "He's been with me for as long as I can remember. I've always played with him, at least once a week for my whole life. Mommy used to say that we were actually long lost twins, but I never really got that, since Trunks was always there, and how can you be long lost if you've always been there?"

The little girl crossed her arms as she plopped down next to her friend. "At least you always had someone to play with," she pouted. "You boys are never here, and when you do come over, you never want to play with me."

Goten's eyes got huge. "That's not true!" he argued back. "We play with you!"

"Only when we're stuck inside or building a sand castle!" the pigtailed girl argued back. "You never play your other games with me!"

"Because we're not allowed!" the half Saiyan hollered back. "Mommy and Auntie Bulma said we're not allowed to play with you like that because we're Saiyan's and we might hurt you on accident!"

Blowing a raspberry at her companion, Marron settled into full blown pout mode. "You're just saying that because I'm a girl!" she grumbled back.

"I am not!" Goten hollered hack. "It's got nothing to do with you being a girl! It's because you are a human!"

Marron took a swing at Goten and connected firmly with his shoulder. "Ow!" she screamed, pulling her hurt hand in to her lap.

"See?" Goten shot back, throwing up his arms in frustration. "I can't even let you beat me up without you getting hurt! How am I supposed to play tag with you, or wrestle with you, or play any of our other games with you if you get hurt with me just sittin' here?"

Again, the little girl huffed. "Well, you should find a way!" she shouted back. "I hate being left out just because I'm a human! I wanna play with you guys!"

"Well it's not like we don't want to play with you!" Goten hollered. "We don't have anyone else to play with!"

"Then you need to become a human so you can play with me!" the blonde fought. When Goten did not respond immediately, the little girl rolled her eyes and crossed her arms again. "You're stupid."

"You're stupid!" the half Saiyan fought back.

And with that the fight ended as the two children pouted and glared out the window.

/////

"So, how did we become actual friends?" Bulma asked. When the younger woman looked almost offended, Bulma used her spare hand to wave it off. "You know what I mean," she clarified, swallowing some of her drink. "The last time I remember seeing you, you had just dropped off Gohan in that dorky little outfit and had put so much gel in his hair that it didn't move once on that entire trip. Sorry, honey, but you and I have never spent any real time together as far as my memory is concerned."

Grumbling as she pulled her hair tie out, Chi-Chi responded, "Oh, you make me sound like nothing but a boring old biddy."

Bulma chuckled, taking another sip. "Do you really want me to comment on that?"

"Shut up," the brunette responded, shaking her hair out. "It's not like you were all that much fun to hang out with twelve years ago."

"Hey!" the balded heiress sputtered. "I was a lot of fun!"

Snorting, Chi-Chi sipped at her drink. "Please," she shot. "I heard the stories from Gohan and Krillen. You were a pain in the ass on that trip." Before the elder woman could counter, Chi-Chi finally answered the question. "When Goku left eight years ago, I was already three months pregnant with Goten. I was scared and alone, and without a husband or a direct source of income, the idea of raising two half Saiyan sons alone was overwhelming."

Slowly, she took another sip. "About a month after Cell…a story that you'll here about some other time…I called you because I needed help. Gohan was getting out of control, and as my pregnancy progressed, I realized that it was going to be a lot harder than the first time. Every little thing about it was so much harder, and I couldn't do it alone. I didn't exactly have a lot of friends I could call, but you and I are the only women on this planet to have carried Saiyan children. It seemed like you were the good choice to call."

The heiress cringed slightly. It was no secret to her that Chi-Chi had never exactly had a large social circle, but it was painful to hear that the woman had to have gone an entire month into her second trimester, with all of her difficulties, before she had to resort to asking for her help.

"Anyway," Chi-Chi went on, swirling her glass, "I was confined to bed rest a few weeks later, and you let us come stay here with you guys so that you and your mom could help me and Vegeta could keep Gohan in check."

Bulma froze at that statement, her glass poised at her lips. Slowly, she set it down on the table, a somber look on her face. "Vegeta…" she whispered.

Chi-Chi's eyes grew wide as she realized her mistake. "So," she tried to continue, hoping to distract the heiress, "after Goten was born, he and Trunks formed an almost instantaneous bond. The boys have been practically joined at the hip from day one, and after all of those years of play dates and sparring matches, you and I finally got a chance to spend a lot of time with each other. Over time, we became quite close."

"Right," Bulma said with a distant voice. "While we're on the topic of our families…"

"Oh, don't do this to me," Chi-Chi pleaded.

"Sorry," the heiress said in a completely unsympathetic tone. "You guys came to cheer me up, and I will not be happy until I at least know how I ended up with Vegeta of all people."

Groaning, the brunette put down her own glass and put her face in her hands. "Bulma, I can't answer that."

Bulma began to grow frustrated with her friend. "Chi-Chi, I'm getting kind of sick of all this side stepping around my personal life!"

"I'm not side stepping!" the younger woman snapped back. "I honestly don't know how you ended up with him! No one does! You two had been together for a year and had a son together before any of us even suspected that you two would be together!"

"You just said that you and I have spent a lot of time together over the last eight years," Bulma countered. "Are you seriously telling me that in all that time, I never once told you how it all began?"

"Yes!" the brunette shouted back. "You'll talk about just about everything else in the world, including what you two do in bed together, but even when we asked you, you never told us how it happened. So if you want to blame anyone for not knowing what the hell made that happen, then you can blame yourself!"

From the doorway, an alto voice cleared. "I leave for five minutes and you two fall apart," chided Eighteen, entering the room and shaking her head. "You two are just pathetic." With catlike grace, she sat down between them and refreshed her beverage. "If you two can't act like the adults that you supposedly are, I'm taking the good stuff and flying away."

The other two women huffed as they slouched back against the couch.

"That's it," the blonde tacked on. "Act like the children. That's a lot of fun."

Bulma and Chi-Chi snapped their heads to the side, glaring hard at the icy blonde. Eighteen, however, remained completely unfazed by them. Having spent the last few days on daycare duty, such a mild temper tantrum seemed hardly worth commenting on.

Five minutes passed in total silence and virtually no movement. Finally, Bulma leaned forward, looking past Eighteen and over to Chi-Chi. "I wouldn't tell you how he and I got together, but I would tell you about our sex life?"

"Talk about?" Eighteen snorted. "Please. You would brag about it."

Slowly, a wicked smirk crossed the heiress' features. "He's that good?"

"According to you," Chi-Chi answered, once again grabbing her glass, "he's phenomenal." The brunette took a good solid gulp before adding, "And creative."

"Really?" the bald woman pushed.

Taking a smaller sip, the younger mother rolled her eyes. "Let's just say that I don't need to know the details of how that crack ended up on your kitchen ceiling."

"The kitchen ceiling?!?" Bulma squeaked, shooting to her feet. She wavered for a moment, trying to fight off the beginning effects of her drinks as she got her balance. She quickly walked to the room in question, leaving her companions behind.

Remaining on the couch, Eighteen raised a blonde eyebrow at Chi-Chi. "They did it on the kitchen ceiling?"

"I have no idea," the other woman confessed, giggling as she put down her glass. "All I know is that there's a crack on their kitchen ceiling, and I wanted to get her on to a subject she would actually enjoy."

A devilish smirk crossed the cyborg's face. "Chi-Chi, you are positively evil."

Shrugging, the brunette ran her fingers through her long black hair and glanced at the doorway, making sure that the heiress was still out of the room. "Maybe, but I'm want this whole nightmare behind us as soon as possible, and I am willing to say whatever I have to in order for her to start thinking of Vegeta as something other than a monster."

"True," the blonde agreed. "And the sex life really is the best way to get that ball rolling."

"Yeah," the dark haired woman snickered, "but let's face it, given the stories she's told us, that probably is the most likely way that crack in the kitchen got in that particular spot. If I really wanted to be evil, I'd tell her about the report Goten gave me after he and Trunks walked in on them that one time."

"They WHAT?!?"

"Oops," Chi-Chi giggled, barely trying to look coy, "I guess she's back in the room…"