Chapter Four

The Gold Fighter

The rest of the week had sped by, and soon the morning of the charity ball was upon him. Gohan had eventually given in to his brother's relentless wake up call, and once he was dressed, headed sluggishly downstairs to have a decent breakfast.

Entering the warm kitchen with a huge yawn, the teenager found that Goten was already devouring his share of bacon and eggs, the sound of chomping and slurping filling the room. His mother tutted as she placed Gohan's share on the table, before wiping the young boy's sticky face with her apron.

"Honestly," she mused to herself with a shake of her head, "Just like your father."

Chi-Chi was always full of complements for the young boy, even when he was making a great mess of the kitchen table. Although the head-strong woman had an enormous amount of love for both her children, Gohan couldn't help but feel as though his outcome was a disappointment for her. While he mostly did as he was told as a child, the young saiyan was starting to find his own path; which was steadily veering off the one his mother had set out for him.

Despite this, she had taken a more relaxed approach to Goten's upbringing. She let him watch cartoons and eat sweets, and seemed to turn a blind eye when he would accidentally break something due to his saiyan strength. Something that Gohan never got away with. Just a few months ago did he catch her in the back garden with Goten, teaching him the correct way to hold a fighting stance.

Gohan wasn't stupid, and knew that she was giving him a few martial arts lessons around his usual studying. Like the teenager, Chi-Chi had started schooling Goten as soon as he learned to talk, and he never had thought he would see the day when his mother would don her old fighting gi and make Goten perform simple combo's up and down the garden.

He concluded that it was the absence of his father that had caused this odd behaviour, although he never voiced his opinion out loud. Their little house by the forest hadn't changed that much in four years. The cream coloured walls still bore photographs of time gone by, with only a few new additions appearing on the mantle piece since Goten's birth. Furniture had not been replaced or added to, and the kitchen still had four chairs, even though one was always empty. His father's clothes still remained in the wardrobe, and his training boots, that used to look so big to Gohan, lay dusty and unused by the front door.

It was as if his mother expected her husband to come waltzing back into the kitchen, with a cheery smile and an empty stomach, apologising for being late. But Gohan knew that day would never come, and with each passing year the reality of his father's death set in even deeper.

The teenager couldn't help but think that his mother was trying to fill a gap with Goten, he was, so much like their father after all. He didn't blame her, he could never fill his father's shoes.

"Gohan don't just stand there gawking in the doorway," Chi-Chi scolded, catching sight of him, "Your food's getting cold."

The young saiyan slipped into the seat opposite his brother, who was too busy wolfing down his breakfast to acknowledge him. Gohan sighed as he stared at the mountain of food in front of him, and suddenly didn't feel hungry anymore.

"Whatever is the matter?" his mother frowned, looking the sulking teenager up and down before nestling herself in between her boys with her bowl of cereal.

"Nothing," Gohan lied, twirling his fork in between his fingers.

"Are you going to do superhero stuff today big bwother?" Goten interrupted excitedly, now that his plate was licked clean.

"Your brother has school today," Chi-Chi said sternly before he could reply, "And then he's going to go dancing with Auntie Bulma."

The young saiyan blinked in surprise, his mother seemed a lot calmer today. He had half expected her to start ranting at the mention of his alter ego. Over the course of the past few days, Gohan had come to notice that Chi-Chi had a rather large vein in her forehead, that would pulsate rapidly when the image of The Gold Fighter flashed across the television screen.

The media had not let up about his run in with Videl Satan, The Gold Fighter had been the highlight of every news report that week and Chi-Chi was positively furious. Although Gohan and the rest of the Z-Fighter's had to admit that the whole situation rather entertaining, his mother would flip between nagging at him and yelling at the television. Whatever they did, she still wouldn't have strangers spouting rude remarks about her babies.

"Dancing? What for?" his brother asked.

Chi-Chi sighed wistfully, "Gohan has to go dancing with all these important people to make a good impression sweetheart, they might help your brother get a very good job one day, or even a reference so that he can go to a top university!"

So that's why she's in a good mood, Gohan thought as he rolled his eyes. Trust his mother to skip over the fact that he was branded a criminal in favour of daydreaming about his future employment.

"That sounds boring," Goten blurted, but their mother wasn't listening.

"Imagine that," Chi-Chi gushed, "My little boy in cahoots with the biggest intellectual minds in the world! Oh Gohan, I can just picture it now, you'll have your doctorate in no time. That'll be the first in the family, until Goten that is."

"Huh?" said Goten, an enormous burp erupting from his chest.

Her nose wrinkled slightly, as she patted the young boy on the head.

"I think you're taking it a bit far Mum," Gohan mustered, "I'm only there to accompany Bulma…"

"Nonsense Gohan, these people are in a completely different class," said Chi-Chi with a frown, "It's important to make a good first impression now for them to remember you, it can work wonders you know. Just think of what you could achieve if you make the effort - which is why there will be no Gold Fighter appearances today, you simply can't be late young man."

The teenager sighed, his mother was right, Bulma would kill him if he got caught up in another media frenzied mess before the ball.

"And another thing," Chi-Chi continued, "Please try not to get a detention from Mister Shu today, you'll need enough time to come home and pick up your suit before heading to Bulma's."

"Like I can promise that," he grumbled, causing his mother to shoot him a look.

"You can behave for goodness sake Gohan," she said, "really, I don't know whats gotten into you lately."

"He's pure evil Mum!" Gohan protested, "Whether I behave or not doesn't make a difference, he constantly picks on Lime and me."

Chi-Chi rolled her eyes, "Honestly young man stop exaggerating, I'm sure he's gotten over our little spat by now."

"Little spat?!" he guffawed, "You threw him out of my bedroom window!"

"The window was open dear," she dismissed, "I didn't do him any serious harm."

"Just to his pride," said Gohan, resting his chin on his hand moodily.

"Wow Mummy!" Goten gasped, looking towards their mother in a new found awe, "Did you rweally do that to the bad man?!"

A faint tinge of pink crept up her cheeks, "Well, I may have overreacted a little…"

"You think?" Gohan scoffed, "Now he hates me."

"Oh Gohan I'm sure it will all work out perfectly fine," said Chi-Chi, looking towards him in disapproval, "You and Lime just need to keep your heads down and work hard, then this little grudge of his will all be forgotten."

xxxx

If Mister Shu did have a 'little grudge' towards Gohan, then it was certainly the understatement of the century. The second lesson after lunch was when they would have to endure Shu for a full two hours before the glorious bell signalled for the end of the day. Five minutes in, and Gohan had already been scorned twice; the first, as he entered the room with his shirt untucked and the second for tapping his pen too loudly on the desk.

Gohan didn't think he could have so much loathing for a man that wasn't trying to blow up the planet. Mister Satan came as a close second, although his daughter was steadily catching him up. The young saiyan couldn't think of a worse way to spend a Friday afternoon, and the rest of his classmates seemed to share his opinion.

The sun poured unforgivingly through the window panes, causing the small classroom to be drenched in an unbearable heat, but Shu refused to open any of the windows, and would discourage any student that were brave enough to challenge him.

"It's so hot…" whispered Lime, stretching her arms out in front of her and resting her head on the desks cool surface next to him. However, she quickly retracted upright when Mister Shu's stern cough was directed towards her.

"What a complete arse," she huffed after he had turned away, "sat there with his fan whilst we're all melting."

Gohan averted his gaze to the tyrant of a teacher. Indeed, he was sat comfortably at his desk, flipping through notes whilst a portable fan whirred cool air in his direction. None of the fourth years dared to loosen their school ties, for want of not being subjected one of his medieval punishments. Just last week did he make a boy cry for making him stand holding two full buckets of water for ten minutes as punishment for not writing the date on top of his practice paper.

The young saiyan snarled at the memory, as he had to sit and watch, rendered completely helpless. He could have given the boy a small burst of borrowed ki, but couldn't come up with a way of how to explain how the kid would have suddenly regained his stamina. Mister Shu would have been suspicious and would have most likely punished the boy further.

"What's the matter with you today?" Lime asked, pulling her long hair up and tying it into a ponytail, "You seem quiet."

"Nothing," he replied, making sure Shu wasn't watching before averting his eyes from his work. This afternoon they were trawling through a heap of practice exams, which Gohan thought was completely pointless. Still, he had allowed the class to talk, if only it was to discuss the questions in front of them. "I'm just trying to stay out of trouble so I don't end up being late for Bulma's thing tonight."

"I didn't think that sentence existed in your vocabulary," Lime snorted, earning herself a glare from the halfling. The girl ignored him, instead abandoning her strawberry scented gel pen and smoothing her hands over her bare wrists, "I say sod the ball, you can help me prank the git for confiscating my bangles."

"Not today," Gohan urged, "Mum and Bulma will both murder me in my sleep if I end up missing half of it."

"Fine," she said, rolling her eyes dramatically, "Abandon your best friend and go party with the posh people, you might as well go ask that stuck up cow Videl Satan for a dance whilst your at it."

The young saiyan made a face, "Oh Kami, you don't think she'll be there do you?"

"Isn't it obvious?" teased Lime, "Mister Satan wouldn't pass up an opportunity to show off at a big charity event in front of a load of important rich people. I don't think anyone else but his daughter could stand to accompany him for that length of time. I feel sort of sorry for her actually."

"Please don't," said Gohan haughtily, he had already informed Lime on his encounter with the girl as The Gold Fighter, "Believe me she's just as pigheaded as her father."

She chuckled, nudging him in the ribs and nodding towards Shu, "Oh come on Gohan, you'd have so much more fun trying to figure out a way to make this bastard retire early."

"Sorry Lime," he smiled, "I already promised Bulma."

"But I feel so naked!" she cried dramatically, holding up her wrists in desperation.

"That's not a bad thing," Gohan couldn't help but say with a cheeky grin, earning himself a slap on the head with Lime's practice paper.

"Miss Lao!"

The teenager's winced, as Shu's voice bellowed across the room. "As much as it thrills me to see Mister Son getting what he deserves, may I remind you that violence in my class will not be tolerated - detention with me after school."

"But Sir-!" They both started, before Shu cut them off.

"Don't make me make it a double detention Miss Lao," He said snidely, addressing Gohan, "and you'll do well to keep quiet Son, before you receive the same."

Gohan snapped his mouth shut before he could retort. Fortunately, Lime gave him a look that indicated it was fine and the pair continued the lesson in silence.

The remainder of the afternoon trawled by, and in Gohan's readiness to escape , he had made it back home and picked up his freshly ironed suit in no time. He felt guilty for leaving Lime alone with Shu, but the girl had told him to stop fretting and go and enjoy the ball.

He was halfway to Bulma's, after changing and successfully avoiding his mother with a pair of scissors to his hair, when he received a text from the blue-haired heiress informing him that her hair appointment was running over. For want of avoiding running into Vegeta without Bulma present, Gohan made the quick decision to pay his favourite Namekian's a visit.

He had to fly over West City to get up to The Lookout, but the young saiyan didn't mind taking a quick detour, he had a little time to kill. Catching sight of the ancient Korin's Tower, Gohan gathered speed, hurtling up the vertical incline until he could make out the large domed bottom of The Lookout.

"Gohan!"

The sudden shout made him skid to a halt. The teenager looked below him curiously, where he could make out Korin and Yajirobe waving at him from the top of the tower.

"What's the rush kid? Can't stop to say hi to a couple of old friends?" asked Korin as he descended, floating opposite them as they hung over the railings.

"Sorry," Gohan smiled, "I was just going to say a quick hello to Piccolo and Dende before I went to Bulma's party."

"Typical," Yajirobe snorted, "No body ever comes to see us, and now your telling us there's a party that we're not invited to."

"It's not that kind of party," said the teen, holding his hands up defensively, "It's a ball for charity, Bulma's invited all the top engineering companies and their sponsor's."

"Sounds boring," Yajirobe stated, earning himself a glare from Korin.

"Well I must say Gohan you certainly look the part," said the old cat, looking him up and down, "a lot cleaner than your father used to look at your age I can tell you."

"Um, thanks?" said Gohan, causing Korin to grin.

"You're growing up well," he continued, "Although I must say its a shame to see you not keeping up your training, a power like yours gave me shivers."

The teenager instantly felt uncomfortable under the cat's wise stare, "Well, I've been a bit busy…"

"I've noticed," he replied knowingly.

Yajirobe laughed heartily, "I'm so glad we decided to get a TV up here, watching you as The Gold Fighter and all. Never known entertainment like it! Wonder what Goku would say if he knew his kid was wanted by every police force in the world?"

"I've er, got to go," Gohan blurted suddenly, as Korin thwacked the fat martial artist over the head with his wooden staff.

"Alright son don't be a stranger now," Korin called as the halfling lifted into the air. Gohan gave them a quick wave, not paying attention to his father's old friends as they started to bicker and sped towards The Lookout.

As his dress shoes tapped lightly upon the gleaming marble tiles, it didn't take long for the occupants of the temple to notice his presence.

"Gohan!" Dende cried, running towards him and giving him an enormous hug, "I thought I sensed you coming!"

The young saiyan returned the hug; having not seen his friend in a couple of months. Dende, now as tall as he, was a very busy guardian-in-training and thus Gohan didn't see his friend as much as he would have liked. Being Earth's guardian was extremely time consuming, and with Dende still learning the ways of Earth, Otherworld and everything in between, Mr. Popo was always on hand to help out; as was Piccolo, who was currently stalking up the path to the babbling boys.

"Calm down the both of you," he growled as he approached, "Is this anyway to behave in a sacred place?"

Gohan stopped bouncing up and down, whilst Dende hung his head in shame.

"Aw, Mister Piccolo," Gohan said wickedly, "You don't have to jealous, it was your turn next!"

"Gohan…" Piccolo warned, before he was pounced on by the half-saiyan.

The teen wrapped his arms tightly around his mentor's middle, whilst Dende roared with laughter. "Mmm, so cuddly!" Gohan sighed blissfully, "Get in on this Dende!"

The young Namekian made a start forwards, before he was stopped in his tracks with a firm glare from Piccolo. "Don't even think about it," he growled, turning his attention to the halfling, "Get off Gohan, before I really start to get angry."

Sensing his mentor's ki beginning to fluctuate, Gohan released him, smirking up at his purple tinged cheeks. "What? I missed you!" he laughed, as Piccolo's eyes looked towards him in fury.

He scoffed, turning his attention to Dende, "And you, what do you mean you thought it was Gohan coming up The Lookout? It could have been an enemy, you weren't looking."

Dende looked severely upset, "Well -"

"Oh come off it Piccolo," Gohan cut across him in a bored manner, "If it was an enemy they would have hidden their Ki before attacking with a power level like your's on top of here, Dende wouldn't have sensed anyone coming."

Both Namekian's stared, dumfounded, until Piccolo's lips broke into a smirk, "At least one of you listens to my teachings."

"Sorry Dende, looks like I just won star pupil," Gohan winked, nudging his friend in the ribs.

"Shut up Gohan."

"Are you going somewhere?" Piccolo interrupted suddenly, taking in his appearance.

Gohan's suit was from some famous designer in the Capital whose name he couldn't pronounce. Although he had to admit, despite the initial tightness, he liked it. It was a midnight blue colour, with a crisp white shirt underneath. Bulma had suggested for him not to wear a tie, and that just leaving the first couple of buttons undone at the collar would make him look very sophisticated. The teenager did feel very smart, especially with his brown brogues instead of boots or converse. The suit was tailored so that it pinched in at the waist, showing off his muscular torso. The trousers were a skinny fit, that Gohan liked, and he even took the time to brush his hair so that it neatly tucked into a ponytail; yet he had had no luck in taming the spikey mass at the front.

"Sounds thrilling," Piccolo smirked when Gohan had explained his plans for the night. "Let's hope you can stay clear of Mister Satan."

"Yeah," the teenager replied haughtily, "Then all I've got to do is worry about his nutcase daughter and securing a place at university or something before the night is over."

"You certainly know how to keep life entertaining," Dende chuckled before grasping onto his shoulder, "speaking of, how's that arm of yours?"

Gohan groaned loudly, shrugging him off. Along with the emotional scarring that came with the end of the Cell Games, the young saiyan had inherited a physical scar. It was red and jagged, running from his left shoulder tip to wrist. Gohan hated it, as it was a constant reminder of his short-comings during the battle. He had received it when defending Vegeta from Cell's attack, and it would have healed, had Gohan had not put so much pressure on his body during his Kamehameha battle with the monster. The limb was incredibly twisted and broken, the bone sticking right through the muscle and piercing his ligaments and tendons. Dende had worked solidly for months trying to restore it, and although his arm was fixed, the scarring was too deep to heal. Lime had even suggested he get some tattoos to cover it up, but he knew his mother would hit the roof if he did anything else to his body without her consent.

"Gohan," Dende frowned, "I told you that you still need to come back for healing every few months, and here was me thinking you'd come here to get it sorted."

"Aw, I wouldn't come here just to use you Dende," said Gohan, offering him a winning smile. But Dende didn't budge.

"Don't make me get Mr. Popo to throw you in the Pendulum room again," he said in a threatening tone.

"Mr. Piccolo?" Gohan pleaded, but his mentor all but glared at him.

"If you're going you run around recklessly as The Gold Fighter without continuing any real training, the least you can do is make sure you aren't hindered by anything else," he stated.

"Fine," The teenager pouted, "It's just not nice when it stings."

"Sorry Gohan," Dende smiled, urging him to take a seat before a soft glow escaped his hands.

It was warm at first, like always, almost soothing in fact. But then several seconds later he felt his muscles begin to burn, built up scar tissue and worn tendons began to mend on the inside, sending shooting pains all the way down to his fingertips.

Gohan began to feel dizzy, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth did he hear Dende whisper, "Almost over."

And then it was. The pain left him and was replaced with pins and needles down his left arm, it was an odd sensation, but one he had gradually got used to. The first few times he was in absolute agony and had to get Piccolo and Mr. Popo to pin him down for Dende to heal him.

"See, that wasn't so bad now was it?" said Dende, smiling at him.

"Speak for yourself," Gohan grumbled, clambering to his feet and dusting himself off. After rolling his shoulder back and forth a few times, the teenager sighed, "Well I suppose I should get going, Bulma's probably back and flapping wondering where I am."

After thanking Dende and bidding the two Namekian's goodbye, the young saiyan headed over to Capsule Corp. where true to form Bulma nearly chewed his ear off when she saw him. That was of course, before bursting into tears and exclaiming how handsome and gown up he looked. Pregnancy hormones…

Gohan was relieved to find she had composed herself by the time they got to Satan City, where the charity gala ball would be held. One of the most expensive hotels in the city had catered for the event, and their large extravagant function rooms had been hired out. Gohan was simply bowled over at the grandeur of it all.

Glistening crystal chandeliers hung above their heads, the room was just as wide as it was long, and a huge wooden dance floor was set in front of a proscenium arched stage, where a smartly dressed swing band played. His attention was immediately drawn to the buffet table, that was covered in high class delicacies such as caviar, lobster and various wild fruits. In the centre, of course, was an ice sculpture in the form of Mister Satan. Gohan wondered aloud at just how the delicate structure was able to balance Hercule's enormous head upon it, which caused Bulma to cackle loudly and several people to sniff at them in disapproval.

Over an hour had passed and the hundreds of guests were packed into the large ballroom, but Gohan had yet to spot Satan and his daughter. The grand hotel was situated in the middle of around ten acres of grounds on the outskirts of the city, and Gohan was absentmindedly looking out of one of the delicately paned windows when someone clapped him hard on the back.

It was way too hard for a normal human, especially seen as he had nearly split his glass of cola all over himself. He choked, spinning around on his heel only to meet the cheery eyes of -

"Yamcha?" Gohan gaped, "What are you doing here?"

Yamcha laughed, tugging on his cream two-pieced suit, "Don't look so surprised kid, its not that hard to believe that a successful baseball star like me is on every guest list."

The young saiyan grinned in amusement, "Your manager made you come to represent the Titans didn't he?"

"Yeah, he's hoping to get us some more sponsors. But it's nice to pretend that I'm so famous that they begged to have me here," The ex-bandit chuckled, winking at Gohan, "Then again it is getting a bit dull, glad to see you here Gohan."

"Likewise," he replied wholeheartedly. Gohan had done nothing but escort Bulma around for the past hour, with her leaning on his arm heavily when she was starting to get tired. He had met a few company executives, but either they were too old and doddery to care or two busy fawning over him for Bulma get in a good introduction. He could have sworn that the wife of one CEO had pinched his bum at one point.

"Really though kid," Yamcha continued, "we don't see enough of you anymore. I know Krillin and the other's miss you, but whenever they pop in your mum says your out."

"Well I am most of the time," Gohan said a little guilty, "School takes up a lot of my time-"

"So does being a superhero right?" Yamcha jested.

The teenager jumped, immediately smacking a hand over his friends mouth, his eyes darting around him. "Shh!" Gohan growled, "Do you want people to hear?!"

He laughed as the halfling removed his hand, "Oh relax Gohan, no one's listening."

The young saiyan scowled.

"Don't look at me like that," said Yamcha, "I'm not going to tease you."

"You're not?" Gohan said disbelievingly.

"Honest," he smiled, clapping his hand on his shoulder, "I think your doing a good thing you know;,even if the rest of the world isn't ready for a Gold Fighter. Your dad would be proud of you."

Gohan blinked, the sincerity in Yamcha's words couldn't be missed, yet what Yajirobe said earlier still played on his mind.

"He would?" he asked.

Yamcha looked taken a back, "Of course he would! What would make you think he wouldn't be?"

Gohan opened his mouth to reply when he heard someone call his name.

"Gohan!"

The two males spun around to see Bulma walking with purpose towards them, flanked by important looking businessmen in pristine looking attire. Bulma, however, was absolutely glittering, she wore a shimmering golden gown that pooled at her feet. It was tight fitted at the bosom with a halter neck that was very revealing. The rest of the fabric draped tastefully over her growing baby bump, and she wore beautiful sparkling diamonds around her neck and ears. Her short hair was curled elegantly at the front and fitted back with bobby pins.

She smiled softly as she reached them, one hand resting on her belly and the other holding a champagne glass filled with orange juice. "Hello boys," said Bulma, a twinkle in her eye, she was obviously enjoying herself.

"Hi Bulma, you're looking well," said Yamcha.

"As are you," she replied politely.

Gohan looked back and forth between the two. It was weird to think that the pair used to be an item. Yamcha had always been a bit of a ladies man from what he had heard, but he couldn't help but think that Bulma settling down and having two children with a man who had inadvertently killed him once must have been hard on the poor bloke.

Kami his friends were weird.

"Gohan there's a few people I'd like to introduce you to," said Bulma, breaking the young saiyan out of his thoughts. There were five of them in total, each one the head of the largest companies in the world, bar Capsule Corporation.

"Splendid to meet you my boy," the man introduced as Seamus Bloom said as he took Gohan's hand and shook it, "Bulma here has told us a lot about you."

Another executive next to him, with kind eyes and greying hair smiled, "Such a pleasure, I must say though young man I did expect you to be a little older."

Gohan grinned sheepishly, as Bulma gave him a wink. He soon learned that these people were the driving forces behind the most pioneering scientific developments in recent history. Bloom, and the greying man Sebastian Salisbury headed renewable energy sources for the planet.

The others, a stout man with thick straw coloured hair was the inventor behind hover cars, and was its only supplier until Capsule Corp. outsold them. Jeremy Smithers, a tall framed man with a cheery grin and ginger hair was the CEO of Aero-Corp, a company that trained astronauts in high tech facilities. And the latter was a satellite expert with a strong link to West City's main university.

"Gohan here is the son of one of my oldest friends," Bulma informed, smiling proudly, "I'm just itching for him to finish school next year so I can really push that brain of his."

"Quite," the satellite man said, eyeing Gohan from behind his thick rimmed spectacles, "But like Sebastian said, isn't he a little young to be joining your ranks so soon?"

"Trust me this kid is a genius," she stated boldly before the young saiyan was discouraged, "Do you remember that nasty power surge we had a few years back? Knocked out our central controls cutting out complete access to our satellites. Nothing we tried would work, but Gohan here had it back up and running within the hour. Luckily he was over babysitting my son that night."

The group were listening intently, positively awestruck when she had finished.

"My word," said Jeremy, stepping forwards and clasping his hand, "That was you? How magnificent, we could certainly do with a brain like yours over at Areo-Corp. that's a given, absolute nightmare when one of our training rooms packs in."

"Well, I could always come over and have a look Sir," Gohan politely replied.

The group around him chuckled.

"He says it as if he's nipping round for a cup of tea!" Bloom chortled, looking at the teen fondly.

"Excellent stuff," said Sebastian, turning to him, "I'd love to hear your thoughts on the price of renewable energy my boy."

"Sorry Sir, but I'm afraid I'm more of a lover for engineering and mechanics," said the halfling.

"Well that's a shame," he replied, still smiling, "I must say I envy you Bulma."

She laughed him off, although she couldn't hide her smug grin.

Gohan couldn't help but smile too. It was refreshing to talk about something other than the Cell Games, his father or The Gold Fighter, these people were interested in him, as a normal person; as Son Gohan the smart kid, not Son Gohan the delinquent, father deprived teenager.

The atmosphere was relaxing, and he found he was in his element as Yamcha offered to join the conversation and buy everyone a round. It seemed that the rich CEO's were big fans of the Titans. As Gohan sipped on his fresh cola, he noticed a rather disgruntled old fellow heading towards them. He was fat and balding, the buttons on his waistcoat practically bursting under the strain of his oversized stomach. Every finger was adorned with a jewel embellished ring, as if he was trying to show off his wealth.

As the small group noticed him, each one of them seemed to tense. Bulma looked towards him, pursing her lips as he approached.

"Miss Bulma," the man said in a smooth tone, taking her hand and kissing it, "How radiant you look this evening."

Gohan silently thanked his stars that Vegeta wasn't here, as if the hot tempered prince had caught the exchange, the man would currently be surprised to find that he was missing an arm.

"Stanley," Bulma said shortly, retracting her hand. "How lovely to see you."

It took the teenager a few seconds to realise who he was, Stanley Coyne, the chief executive of Capsule Corp.'s rival company. His business, Mechacorp. developed military arms along with other gadgets and had recently appeared on the news as King Furry's army's main supplier. Bulma, when Gohan had asked why Capsule Corp. hadn't competed for the deal, she had merely shrugged, 'why build weapons of mass destruction to protect the planet when I have you lot?'

Bulma and her father had never had any real intention or need for developing arms, but despite this, Stanley Coyne had been exceptionally smug about securing the deal before his rival, which was evident from the way he was smirking at Bulma now.

"Likewise, gentlemen," he added, acknowledging the other's before turning to Bulma, "I do hope that your not put off by our company's victory Miss Bulma, would be such a shame to put a dampener on this fantastic evening."

"Not at all," she smoothed, "Like I said in my emails, Capsule Corp. aren't in the business of weaponry. It isn't our style."

"Ah! So you say, so you say!" Coyne chortled, "No hard feelings though eh? Can't have bad blood between the two most pioneering companies in the world now can we? Not with the anarchy of today."

"Whatever do you mean Stanley?" Jeremy frowned.

Coyne puffed out his cheeks angrily, "Why with people taking the law into their own hands my good man. Times are hard enough as it is, did you see the incident in Satan City just last week? Frightful stuff. It's why the King's recruited my company you see, someone he can trust to ensure if anything were to go a-rye then we have the best equipment on hand to deal with it. The last man he entrusted with his supplies only went and sold them off to that Red Shark Gang. Word is their working under The Borbonne Family, it seems they're the ones who started whole mess. Every major gang is wanting in on whatever Borbonne's got to offer them. Money and weaponry is the only thing on their agenda. Of course not many people are fond of my business ventures, silly really, when people of this city rely on the sheer guts of a mere girl to get the job done. If you ask me its time Mister Satan put his daughter on a leash."

"Dangerous business," he continued, twirling a finger in his long moustache, "only a matter of time before she winds up with a bullet in her pretty little head."

"How can you say such a thing Stan?" gasped Sebastian.

Gohan stared at the man, who all but took a large gulp from his whiskey glass. There was truth in what Coyne said, but that didn't stop the young saiyan from suppressing a shiver.

"Once one of them starts they all go at it you know, militia start springing up everywhere and before you know it you've got a right mess on your hands," boasted Coyne, smacking his lips, "Worst of all of them is that Gold Fighter, bloody trouble maker if you ask me."

The teenager was halfway through sipping his drink when he inhaled sharply, causing him to start having a coughing fit.

"I think you're over exaggerating there Stanley," Bulma quipped, as Yamcha started pounding the young saiyan on the back, "I honestly don't think The Gold Fighter is as bad as the media is making him out to be. People like him just want to help people like us."

"Oh?" Coyne pressed, his eyes widening at his rival, "So you're saying that Capsule Corporation supports anarchists like The Gold Fighter are you?"

"In a way, yes," said Bulma with a small smile, "It's obvious that you've noticed that the crime rate has suddenly increased. I think we should start allowing these individuals to make a difference in their own way, The Gold Fighter is just trying to make the world a better place to live in."

The large man scoffed, "You sound like you know him personally."

"Surely your joking Stan," Jeremy interjected, "You honestly expect Bulma Briefs of all people, to keep company with a wanted criminal?"

Coyne said nothing, instead, his gaze landed on the still struggling Gohan, as if only just noticing he and Yamcha were there. "Bulma, it seems you haven't introduced me to your new assistant."

"Oh Gohan here isn't my assistant Stanley," informed Bulma, "he's soon going to be working as one of our junior engineers, we were just talking about his opinion on our new propulsion system design before you arrived."

He eyed the teenager, "Ah, so you're an educated boy. Tell me, what's your opinion on this Gold Fighter business?"

The young saiyan frowned, feeling Yamcha's eyes burning into the back of his head. He studied Coyne for a moment, having decided not long into the conversation that he disliked the man. It was obvious the only reason he was addressing him was to ridicule Bulma's little protégée.

"Well I don't pretend to know a lot about The Gold Fighter," Gohan said cooly, the businessmen hanging onto his every word, "But I do think if anyone were going to stop him, then they would certainly need bigger guns than your's."

xxxx

"Bigger guns?! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!" Bulma whispered angrily into his ear as they spun around the dance floor.

Gohan sighed, twirling her in time to the music before bringing her back close to him and placing his hand on her waist. "I held my tongue the entire time he was spouting absolute bollocks, be thankful I didn't say anything else."

Her eyes narrowed as they side stepped around a few more dancing couples, the young saiyan whirling her around when they reached a clearer space. In hindsight, he was surprised just how quickly his lessons had come back to him, martial arts had certainly helped the fluidity of his movements and he could see a couple of teenage girls giggling at him from the sidelines.

They had abruptly left the conversation with Coyne when Bulma made the sudden excuse of needing the loo and dragged him with her. Having no idea where Yamcha had disappeared to and with the swing band cranking up the volume, the halfling had no choice but to whisk Bulma around the dance floor. It seemed the majority of the guests had brought their dancing shoes, and soon the floor was almost completely full.

"He's not a person to be getting on the wrong side of kid," Bulma seethed through gritted teeth, "He'll take that as a challenge!"

"Oh please," Gohan scoffed as the music picked up, wrapping his forearm over her waist and spinning them both on the spot, "What's he going to do? Convince King Furry to set an army on me?"

As they circled to a halt, Bulma gave him a pointed look.

"Nothing bad is going to happen Bulma," he said, lowering his voice, "I'm The Gold Fighter alright? You lot worry too much."

Catching his hand in hers once more she rolled her eyes, "Honestly, for someone who says he try's to stay out of trouble, you really stick your foot in it kid."

The teenager laughed, dipping her low to the ground, causing several people around to 'ooh'. Gohan brought her up to standing again, twirling her as the music picked up tempo.

"Well at least you made a good impression with my business friends," she grinned, allowing him to lead, "When you do start working here, because believe me you will, you have to keep fellow associates close to you, otherwise competition gets too much and they go off on one like Coyne. They were very impressed by you I could tell."

"I'd like to think so," he smiled back, "But Mum still expects me to go to university and become a scholar. I don't want to study how to be an engineer Bulma, I want to be one!"

They spun again, "She'll come round honey, I'm sure of it."

Gohan sighed, willing himself not to think of his mother's interrogation he would receive in the morning as he whipped Bulma away from him in a fluid movement, then caught her right before she touched the ground.

"Woah Gohan," Bulma giggled, clutching her belly, "I think the baby felt that one then."

His immediate panic dissipating, the young saiyan allowed her to place his hand on her bump. "Wow, it's going mental," he exclaimed, the odd sensation of the baby kicking him causing him to smile. He wondered if Vegeta did this as his palm got attacked by a foot once more.

"Definitely Vegeta's kid in there," he chuckled.

"You're telling me," sighed Bulma, "Come on, let's go get a drink."

Gohan followed obediently, weaving in between dancing couples until he reached the edge of the dance floor. His dark eyes flickering around him, he realised he had lost Bulma in the process and was just about to search for her energy when he was startled by two pairs of eyes that seemed to materialise in front of him.

"Hi!" the girls chorused.

"Um, hello?" Gohan blinked, recognising them as the two who were ogling him and Bulma dancing earlier.

"You're a really good dancer," the girl with short blonde hair exclaimed.

The other had bright red long hair, both of them looked to be his age. "Yeah, do you want to dance with us?"

The young saiyan looked around him, desperately hoping Bulma would come to save him soon, he could sense her and Yamcha a few feet away.

"I'm Erasa by the way," the blonde chirped, grinning at him madly, "and this is Angela."

"Hi!" she blurted, "What's your name?"

"Gohan," he said simply, causing them both to squeal.

"So can we dance with you? We can take it in turns!" Erasa beamed.

"Um," Gohan mustered, "I just need to find my friends -" he started, as his eyes caught sight of the pair in question. Bulma was giggling at his current predicament, whilst Yamcha got out his phone and took a picture, before giving him a thumbs up.

He sighed hopelessly, no doubt that photo would end up circulating the Z-Fighter's before tomorrow morning. Not that Gohan was against female attention, he actually found it rather flattering, he just didn't understand why some of them had to be so… screechy. Lime certainly wasn't that way inclined. In fact, he never really had any sort of problems with girls at school, as they quickly became intimidated by Lime's presence. Not that he minded, some girls were incredibly irritating, speaking of.

"Oh there she is!" Erasa exclaimed suddenly, looking over his shoulder, "Videl! Over here!"

Gohan spun around at the name's mention, and nearly fell over laughing when he caught sight of her. Videl Satan was etching her way through the crowd towards them, her pigtails abandoned and curled into ringlets. She was stuffed into a bright pink ballgown, which was puffed out at the shoulders and made her look like a meringue. By the disgruntled look on her face he concluded that she had been forced into such a hideous outfit, her skirts catching on the backs of chairs and tables as she walked.

"Gohan, this is our friend Videl," Erasa stated proudly, "And get this, her Dad's the -"

"This is hell!" Videl fumed, cutting her off sharply as she ripped her dress from underneath someone's foot. "I don't understand why my Dad brought me here, and in this ridiculous dress!"

"It's not that bad Videl," Angela soothed, "Mister Satan invited us here too and besides, you look really pretty!"

The Satan girl scoffed, glaring at her friends before her inquisitive eyes landed on Gohan. As her annoying friends introduced him, the young saiyan felt as though he was being analysed. Those sapphire orbs were piercing, and he nearly lost his cool underneath her stare.

"Is something funny?" she growled at the goofish grin the young saiyan had on his face.

"Oh, no not at all," he grinned, desperately trying to keep himself from laughing, "I was just thinking of how lovely you look in that dress."

"See Vi! Everyone else likes it!" Erasa exclaimed happily.

Videl eyed him, unsure of whether he was joking or not. "Well, thanks I guess," she said warily, tearing her gaze away from him.

"So who are you here with Gohan?" asked Angela, "I've not seen you around before."

"Oh well -," he started, before he was abruptly interrupted by a booming voice that echoed through the hall.

"Videl! There you are, you missed the part where I was about to knock Spopovich out of the ring!"

Gohan wanted to crawl into a hole, as none other than Mister Satan approached them. Like his daughter, his attire was rather extravagant, with a frilly white dress shirt and a deep purple bow-tie. His sleeves were rolled up, displaying his enormous hairy arms and he had a scotch in hand. The teenager didn't realise just how tall the man was in person, and would have possibly been intimidated if he wasn't immensely stronger than him.

"I've heard it a hundred times Dad," stated Videl, causing Gohan to blink in surprise at her reproachful tone, "I just came to find my friends."

Mister Satan looked taken aback for a second, before throwing his head back in obnoxious laughter; "Well of course! You should have said Videl, I wouldn't have started the story without including your little friends here, would you like to hear it?" he finished, looking at the teenager's expectantly.

"Ooh yes please Mister Satan Sir!" Erasa gushed, "We always love hearing your old fighting stories!"

Gohan rolled his eyes, turning around and attempting to escape when a large hand clasped his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

"You there!" Mister Satan frowned at him, "I don't remember my little Videl mentioning she had any friends that were boys. That is, you are just a friend aren't you?"

He opened his mouth to retort when Videl cut across him in a drawling tone, "I've never seen him before Dad."

"Yeah we met Gohan just now," informed Erasa.

"Gohan eh?" The hulking man studied the teen for a moment, "You look familiar."

The teenager started to sweat, just how good was Mister Satan's memory? And how would he recognise him? Last time he saw the man he was a beaten and bloodied super saiyan two, surely the man couldn't compare him to that, unless he had heard Cell shout his name.

To Gohan's surprise, Hercule broke out into a huge grin, "HA! Well I suppose when you've got as many fans as the Champ, they all start looking the same!"

The halfling breathed a sigh of relief as Mister Satan clapped him hard on the back, "Don't worry about it kid, my Videl knows the rules, no boyfriends unless they're strong enough to beat me in a fight!"

"But that's impossible Sir!" exclaimed Angela, "No one is stronger than you!"

"Well I suppose that is true," chortled Hercule, his enormous hand still having not left the half-saiyan, "So kid, you got any posters for me to sign? A baby sibling you want me to kiss?"

Gohan stared, he was just as big of an idiot in person as he remembered.

"Whats the matter, never seen the Champ in person before?" Mister Satan laughed at the expression on Gohan's face. "Tell you what, you can even stay for the rest of the story and I'll make sure to get a picture with you afterwards huh?"

"Lucky me…" Gohan drawled, looking hopelessly at the spot where Bulma and Yamcha had disappeared.

"Dad, I don't think…" Videl started.

"Aha! You're right Videl! Absolutely right!" Mister Satan roared, drawing the attention of several people around them, "A simple story telling just won't do, I bet you've never seen the Champ in action off screen have you?"

"Can't say I've had the er, pleasure," said Gohan, thinking he should start some sort of tally to see just how many times Hercule referred to himself in third person.

"Well then its settled!" The large man beamed, "Caroni, Pirozhki!"

"Oh no really Sir," said Gohan, a feeling of dread coming over him, "You don't have to - "

It seemed that Mister Satan had gotten the entire halls attention by now, as his infamous students brought over a huge duffle bag that they struggled to dump in front of the Champ. Gohan couldn't help but snort as he recognised them both from the Cell Games, Caroni had even managed to get himself a new set of teeth.

"Ah thank you boys," Hercule grinned as the crowd gathered, the swing band had long since been silenced as the Champ prepared for his display and addressed the hall. "Hello honoured guests, fans and … ladies."

Beside him, he heard Videl scoff.

"So sorry to interrupt your evening, but it has come to my attention that this boy has been deprived of seeing any sort of real martial arts in action!"

Gohan wanted to crawl into a hole as Hercule pointed a hairy finger in his direction. Several onlookers gasped around him, looking horrified.

"Now the Champ loves his fans!" Satan continued, "And I won't just stand by whilst some kid isn't getting an education in the greatest art in the entire world!"

The crowd were lapping it up, as cheers and applause filled the hall. Mister Satan called out to him again as he started to stack up roof tile upon roof tile in front of him, but Gohan was too busy trying to keep himself from slapping the man in front of his possible future associates.

"Thirty-six tiles!" Caroni gasped, his wavy blond hair flowing about him, "Sensi, if you manage to break those it'll be a new record!"

"Don't worry about it Caroni," Hercule winked in Gohan's direction, "Something about this kid seems special, he could learn a thing or two."

As the cheers of the crowd diminished, and the room was engulfed in silence, Hercule inhaled a deep breath and began to hum, seemingly deep in mediation. All eyes were fixated on the Champ, except Gohan's, who currently looking above him, wondering if he could manage to hang himself from one of the chandeliers.

Gohan completely zoned out, relenting in the fact that he was stuck right in the middle of Mister Satan's arrogant showboating without the option of just switching off the television.

After what seemed like an age had passed, the oaf of a man still hadn't made any effort to break the tiles, and the young saiyan was getting increasingly bored. However, his boredom was short-lived when a sudden sense of unease came over him.

Tearing his gaze away from the ceiling, Gohan looked around him; but couldn't see any sign of anything untoward. But still, something didn't feel right, and as soon as he clasped eyes with Yamcha in the crowd, he new that he could feel it too.

When Gohan was about to mouth something to the ex-bandit, did his sensitive saiyan hearing detect a small shatter of glass from behind him. As he turned, he saw a silver canister roll across the room before tapping against his shoe. Gohan didn't have time to wrap his head around what was going on when the entire hall was engulfed in a shower of smoke.

He cursed loudly in between coughs, as the crowd was suddenly in uproar, loud screams reached his ears and several bangs and scrapes could be heard as people scurried around in a panic. Getting annoyed as he got knocked into for the fourth time, the young saiyan used a wave of energy to dissipate some of the smoke, just in time to hear a gunshot sound, and see the bullet hit the chain of one of the sparkling chandeliers.

As it was sent crashing to the floor, Gohan reacted in an instant, shielding Videl and her friends who were nearest to him as the crystal shattered, sending bits of glass flying everywhere. The young saiyan looked up, relieved to find that people had dodged out of the way before it had hit. But his relief didn't last long, as around twenty men donning black ski-masks smashed their way through the windows, each one wielding a gun in hand.

"Alright you slag's," shouted the leader of the gang over the irate crowd, "Get on the ground gis' us yeh jewels and money, and no one gets 'urt."

Several terrified people got to their hands and knees, yet the majority of the rooms occupant's were in utter pandemonium, scrambling over each other to reach the fire doors that had cleverly been barricaded from the outside.

The teenager gritted his teeth, attempting to single out Bulma's energy. He looked over and managed to spot her, and was relieved to find that she was being covered by Yamcha next to the bar. She was clutching her belly protectively, staring wide eyed at the masked men.

A strangled scream penetrated the air as the men opened fire without warning, "Let's shut 'em up!"

"NO!" Gohan cried, his heart beating faster as he spotted several casualties on the ground, he knew that most of them were critically injured, or worse. He gulped, his eyes darting about him, struggling to find an exit so he could transform.

"Makes our job easier doesn't it lads?," laughed one of the brutes, as the crowd began to whimper, the sound of gunshots dying down. People were injured and shaking, leaning up against each other with blood spattered across their most expensive attire.

"Richest people in the world gathered all together in one room? And their s'posed to be the smart ones!" A man circulating a rucksack for people to drop their wallets and purses into growled.

"Stop mucking about and hurry up," snarled the gang leader, pointing his weapon directly into the crowd, "Copper's will be here soon, and they'll be hell to pay if we get caught."

The brute shrugged, shaking the bag so that it's contents jingled.

Gohan bit his lip, he couldn't see anyway out without drawing attention to himself, people around him had started muttering in panic, and several had started crying. The leader growled, "Shut it! One wrong move and we'll blast yeh brains out!"

"I'd like to see you try!" one woman shouted out bravely, "I think you're forgetting that Mister Satan's here!"

At once, it seemed the rest of the crowd realised this too.

"Yeah Mister Satan will get you!"

"He's the greatest in the world!"

The champ, crouched low to the ground with everyone else began to sweat as the crowd started to chant, "Sa-tan! Sa-tan! Sa-tan! Sa-tan!"

Their chants soon became screams as the gang leader sneered, firing his rifle several times in the air, blasting holes in the ceiling. Debris rained down upon them, as white plasterboard rained from above. "If Mister Satan doesn't want tah be responsible for anyone else's death, 'e'll stay right where 'e is."

Gohan sighed, he needed to get out; if one more person tried to be a hero, he wasn't sure the gang would be so forgiving, they could wipe out the entire room.

"And who do you think you are giving out orders to my father?!"

The young saiyan groaned, not this shit again.

"Videl honey!" Mister Satan panicked, pulling on his daughter's arm as she stood up in defiance, "It's too dangerous!"

"No Dad," Videl snarled, her eyes narrowing at the men; although they were clouded by tears. Her dress was torn at the shoulder and blood that was not her own was splattered across her face. "I'll not stand aside whilst these terrorists kill these innocent people. Not in our city!"

"Oh look it's Satan's little princess," one man snickered, "We ain't got time to play dollies, so why don't yeh be a good girl and sit quietly with everyone else."

"Fat chance!" growled Videl, "I'll go play with my dolls after I've arrested each and everyone of you!"

The men stared at her, before erupting into hysterics.

"You've got guts girly," the leader smirked, wiping a tear from his eye, "allow me to show 'em to yeh."

Gohan took his chance, as the gang was distracted by the Satan girl leaping in front of them. In a swift movement, she kicked the bag full of money from out of his accomplice's hands and dodged several bullets that came speeding her way. The young saiyan didn't have time to contemplate how she managed to move so freely in a dress like that, when he appeared at Yamcha's side. "I'll take care off this, get Bulma out of here if you can." He stated quickly, whipping his head over his shoulder to see Videl deliver an uppercut to one man's chin, knocking him out on impact.

"You sure you'll be alright?" asked Yamcha, his wide eyes darting to Videl, "I can step in if you need me too."

Gohan shook his head, "It's fine, just get Bulma to safety, it's nothing The Gold Fighter can't handle."

"Do your thing kid," Yamcha winked.

"Be careful!" whispered Bulma, her voice shaking fearfully.

Phasing out as quickly as he could, the young saiyan managed to slip outside undetected. Pressing the button on his watch, his suit was soon replaced with his black bodice, gloves and boots. Hearing more gunshots and screams from inside, Gohan hurtled around the back of the building, from where he could see Videl still fighting the brutes.

She may have been stronger than she looked, but there was too many of them for her to handle, and she could only dodge bullets for so long.

"Bleedin' little pest! Messin' wiv us!" The leader roared, firing up his trigger and aiming it at Videl, who was too busy delivering a spinning kick to another gang member's stomach for her to notice, "I'll make sure you regret it!"

Just as he was about to pull the trigger, a white hot ball of energy disintegrated the gun before his eyes. He gasped sharply, clutching his burning hand as a gust of wind filled the room, along with a bright golden glow.

"I-it's The Gold Fighter!" someone gasped, but Gohan didn't know if it was friend or foe that had made the exclamation.

Instead, the golden haired teenager stared down the quivering man from behind his visor. He smirked, his aura licking at his frame, "The only thing anyone's going to regret here is not packing an extra pair of underwear, because believe me, you're going to need them after I'm through with you."