Elata opened the door carefully and closed it quietly behind her. She turned around and bumped into a confused Goten. He eyeballed her from head to toe. He was able to recognize his mother's clothes, but Elata was certainly not his mom.
"And you must be?" he questioned, amazed by her power level, he knew she wasn't a human,
"I'm Elata, I was here yesterday," she introduced herself proudly,
"hmm. I don't think I noticed you," he said rubbing his chin while looking at her suspiciously, "Are you a friend of dad's?" he asked again. Elata stood there wondering, she couldn't tell whether she was Goku's friend or foe. So she gave him a hesitant nod. He gave her a slight smile and said,
"I'm, Goten. Goku's youngest son, but most powerful of course!" he introduced himself with a slight of exaggeration,
"I see. I can sense your power level. It's not that high though,"
"Uh…But I am the strongest. At least I will be," he assured her." One more question. What are you wearing?"
Elata looked down at her dress with the floral print. Her cheeks turned red. She shrugged.
"You don't seem to like it," he interpreted; "I think I have an idea," he rushed to his parent's room and after a while he dashed to Elata's side again. She looked down between his hands at what seemed to be clothes. He threw them at her beaming, "Try these on" he said. Elata didn't question it; she was willing to try anything on.
She went back inside the bathroom, holding the clothes up with astonishment and wonder,
"These are my dad's clothes, but they shrunk in the drier, I just thought they'd look great on you!" Goten explained from behind the door. She now started questioning her ability to trust anyone so quickly and irrationally. At the small bathroom mirror, Elata checked herself out. She glanced at her new outfit. She stared at each fold and at every little thread. She was unsure. However, taking a little glimpse back at Chichi's dress helped her make up her mind. Anything is better than that abomination, she thought. Then Elata tried jogging in her place. It didn't irritate her skin nor did it constrict her movements. And that's all what a Saiyan warrior could wish for.
"You know what. I look perfect!" she said proudly staring at her reflection. It was Goku's classical outfit but, as Goten said, it was smaller, it hugged her curves perfectly. She stood outside the bathroom smiling from ear to ear, cockily.
"Now you look better," he said cheerfully,
"Where are your mother and father?" she asked,
"They're out. Mom is grocery shopping, and Dad is somewhere alright, while Piccolo is still lying down sick. Mom told me to move him to the guest's bedroom, but he won't move a muscle," he replied. He seemed like a kid with a lot on his plate. He went back downstairs into the living room and glanced at the sick Namakian.
Elata did as well.
"Poor guy. He seems very sick," she said,
"But I thought Namekians never get sick," Goten said perplexed, placing his hands inside his pockets,
"They don't," Elata replied in worry. She had a wide knowledge about almost everything that lies in this vast universe; she even went to Namek and met a lot of it's native roamers. She learned a lot about them and about their life style, and during her journey she has never seen one getting sick like that. She knew that it's almost impossible for Namekians to be ill.
Elata rubbed her chin, thinking about what might have happened to him, "he seemed fine when we fought," she said. Goten's eyes widened in wonder,
"You two fought? Who won?" he asked seeming excited about the news, but little did he know Elata was evil when they did fight, and she almost killed him,
"Maybe," she went on saying, ignoring Goten's question, "Maybe it's a sign,"
"A sign? What do you mean?"
"Maybe. He's not sick. Maybe he's…Dying," She said it with such ease and yet she wasn't quite sure about the accuracy of her words. But Goten was freaking out,
"Huh? What? No. He can't be!" he said tensed,
"Relax. I said maybe. I could be wrong, it's just I've never seen a Namekian sick before,"
"Well we better take him to the guest room, because he's gonna stay here for a while," Goten said as Elata nodded. They both held him up, Goten from his feet while Elata took the other end. On their way to the bedroom they bombed the Namekian at least 15 times into walls and furniture before finally laying him on the bed.
"He's on fire," Goten commented at Piccolo's increasing body temperature,
"We need something to cool him down," Elata said while she opened the window. It was a hot summer day, not a time for a cool breeze to be.
"We don't have ice," Goten said disappointingly, "We should buy some. Or maybe we should go to Capsule Corp." he added only making Elata more vexed,
"To where?" she asked,
"Bulma's place. You probably know her husband, Vegeta," her stomach ached at the sound of his name. She scoffed and replied,
"We should go," Elata made sure that the teenager heard her clearly. She wasn't willing to go there alone where she might die,
"Sorry El, I can't go anywhere besides school. I wish I could cut school and come with you, but sadly I can't. My mom's gonna freak out if she found out," Goten explained.
Now what? She asked herself. She desperately wanted to help the Namekian, but for some reason she kept finding herself alone. Her medical experience is somehow limited. For all she know he might be dying gradually with every passing minute. There was no time for school and all those nonsense, earthly entertainment. She was frustrated,
"Sorry," Goten apologized after noticing the annoyance on her face. She looked back at him and forced a smiled,
"No. It's fine. I'll just stay here until the Namekian feels better," she said. She lied about how fine things really were.
"Okay then, I'm going to school, if you need anything just ask my mom when she comes back home" Goten said as he hurried outside leaving the lonely Saiyan alone. But before he left he turned he said: "Oh and El, I'm pretty sure you can handle it. Why else would mom and dad leave you here all by yourself?" And then he left.
"You should have not said that, little boy," she spoke to herself. She glanced at Piccolo, at his sweating, aching body, and knew she could offer him naught but company. He was her responsibility and she was already letting everyone down. Elata was stressed and every bone in her body trembled with fury. What was she supposed to do? "I'm a warrior not a doctor!" She yelled in this little guest room. Venting to no one but herself.