Chapter Seventeen

Birthday Surprises

xxxx

Son Gokuto was the perfect name for the little boy in his opinion. Of course, he didn't want to all out 'Goku' him, it would put way too much pressure on the poor kid.

Still, it only felt right to honour his father in some way, and it even kept in line with the male naming tradition of his family. His mother had utterly sobbed her heart out when he had told her what he would be naming his son, Bulma too had shed a proud tear or two.

Kami he wished his family weren't so bloody emotional.

For now though, it was time to get back to reality. Gohan's paternity leave was over and he had to get into a routine of going to work and studying for his exams at West City Academy, all the while whilst juggling fatherhood.

It was starting to get a little lonely.

The other interns were not on speaking terms with the young saiyan, Iris having told them that he had been cheating on her and now as consequence had fathered a child. It was complete and utter bullshit, but Gohan just didn't have the time to confront the girl, he had much more pressing matters to attend to.

Gokuto was now two months old, and was starting to hold his head up on his own, recognise people and now had a full head of messy black hair. Unfortunately for the teenager, the little saiyan was still as hostile as ever, and he was certain that the child enjoyed making his ears bleed.

The month of May was upon them, the summer sun greeting the planes of Mount Paozu in a warm orange glow. Dew drops glistened as they clung to blades of grass amongst the deep and cavernous valleys. The forests swelled with life as sunlight greeted the lush trees and flower filled clearings. Vast lakes reflected the morning sun, casting a beautiful glow over their velvety smooth surfaces.

It was peaceful, save for the gentle chirp of sparrows and blue tits that rose at the crack of dawn. The small feathered creatures flapped their wings as they flew wistfully through the morning air, intent on gathering a good breakfast to feed their young.

The best spot lay at the edge of the forest, where the soil was rich and worms plentiful. They usually paid no mind to the small domed structure and cottage buildings that sat beside the trees. Sometimes, a small boy with thick spikey hair would throw out scraps of delicious home baked bread for them to eat.

The air was calm and still, perfect conditions to eat in peace.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

The birds flew quickly, startled squawks escaping their beaks as a loud, high pitched wail echoed over the valleys. It did not die down, gradually getting louder and louder as the cry protruded from a bedroom window at the back of the little domed house.

"I DON'T KNOW WHY YOU'RE CRYING, I SHOULD BE THE ONE THAT'S CRYING!" An adolescent voice bellowed. It was safe to say that the birds had well and truly scarpered.

Gohan's head was spinning, his features contorted in to one of disgust as he threw the dirty nappy into the already full bin next to him.

The newly turned sixteen year old was enjoying the first real sleep he had had in two months. Albeit a rather uncomfortable one, as he had had to kick out a few baby toys out of his bed as well as prise a bottle from under his backside during the night. But still, it was the best sleep he had had in a while, and the teenager was taking advantage of it for all it was worth.

That is, until the screaming two month old had offended his ears at the crack of dawn.

"Gokuto, stay still!" scolded Gohan, as the boy kicked his legs furiously on the changing mat he was lay upon, his tail batting the teen in the face. His eyes were scrunched up as hot ears rolled down his face, his bottom completely bare as the halfling struggled to put a clean nappy on him.

The young saiyan sighed in defeat, as Gokuto's tail hit him in the nose again.

Gohan's bedroom was in complete disarray, the floor littered with toys and piles of dirty clothes. Empty, scrunched up cans of energy drinks covered his desk, along with milk bottles, baby wipes and packs of nappies. Gokuto's crib was next to Gohan's bed, although the child now rarely slept in it, preferring Gohan's chest as a pillow. The changing table sat underneath the window, where the sunlight was steadily creeping in through the pane.

He was sure the glass would crack at any minute by the sheer force of the baby's lungs.

"Come on kiddo, work with me here!" he cried, waving numerous toys and rattles in the baby's face in a desperate attempt to calm him down.

Gradually his crying ceased, as he caught sight of the plush purple dragon Gohan was holding. Gokuto's emerald eyes widened in wonder, his chubby hands grasping towards the toy.

"Aw, you like that?" cooed Gohan, nuzzling the snout on his chubby cheek. He had to admit that the baby boy was rather cute when he wasn't crying, "Say hi, it's Icarus!"

The young saiyan was so immersed in watching his son play, it took him a second to notice something warm trickling down his chest.

"Oh Gokuto!" he groaned, as the baby babbled loudly.

Even though Bulma had readily given him the day off, getting pissed on was not his idea of a Happy Birthday.

Gohan sighed, successfully dressing the boy now that he wasn't screaming and picking him up, before heading downstairs and making his way to the living room.

Plonking himself down heavily on the floor after strapping Gokuto into his bouncy chair, he leaned against the soft material of the sofa, his foot bouncing the chair for the baby boy. If anything, this had to get the little saiyan to sleep, if not, Gohan wasn't sure how long he would last.

He yawned, maybe his mother wouldn't mind taking him off his hands whilst he got a couple more hours rest.

"Gohan, I'm going out!"

The teenager sat up so fast he nearly hurled Gokuto out of his bouncer, causing the boy to squeal in delight.

"Out? Out where?!" Gohan asked frantically, as his mother entered the living room with her handbag over her shoulder.

"To the shops of course dear," Chi-Chi informed, "We're out of milk, bread and all sorts."

"But Mum!" He pressed, "Can't you go later? I know! We can go by the village with 'Kuto after I've slept some more and-"

"Absolutely not," she frowned, "I won't be able to concentrate on what I need, and then there's the pushchair and what if he gets hungry. Goodness Gohan I'll only be gone a few hours, I think it's time you spent time with Gokuto on your own. Besides, I have to get everything ready for your party tonight, I just won't have the time!"

Ah, the party. The birthday party his mother had insisted upon him having. He had only eventually agreed to it given the fact that Gokuto hadn't had a proper 'welcome to the world' as it were, and the Z-gang were eager to celebrate the birth of Goku's first grandchild.

"A few hours?" The halfling sweated, he had never been left alone that long with the boy. When it got too much, he had always gone to visit one of his friends and attempted to pawn the child off on them. "But Mum what if he cries and I can't stop it?! He's been screaming at me all morning again."

"You'll be fine sweetheart," she mused, a small smile upon her lips, "I'll be back soon, I'm sure Goten will help out a little if you ask him to."

Before Gohan could protest any further she left the room, closing the door with a click and leaving the pair in silence.

"Don't leave me!" He cried longingly, but his mother was already gone.

He groaned, placing his hand in his hands. He couldn't see what help his little brother would be, Goten would no doubt prove as useless as he was. Not only that, the four year old didn't know how to change a nappy or make a bottle. Ugh, it was utterly hopeless.

The young saiyan turned to Gokuto, who's green eyes were looking at him in wonder.

"Well, I suppose it's just you and me kiddo."

xxxx

"PICCOLO MAKE IT STOP!"

"YOU MAKE IT STOP! YOU MADE IT!"

"OH, OH YEAH THANKS! NOW IF YOU COULD PUT ALL THAT EFFORT LECTURING ME INTO HELPING ME WE MIGHT ACTUALLY GET SOMEWHERE!"

Gohan was ready to pull his hair out, and he guessed Piccolo wanted to tear his ears off in a similar manner.

Gokuto hadn't stopped screaming for thirty solid minutes after his mother had left. The young saiyan just didn't understand, the baby boy was an angel when he was in hospital, if it wasn't for the tail, he would have thought he had taken the wrong baby home by mistake.

He had reached Piccolo via their mental bond when he was all out of options. Gohan had changed him, fed him, winded him, give him a bath, sang him a song, rocked him, cuddled him and yet, Gokuto was still screaming.

Calling his mentor probably wasn't such a good idea, and in hindsight, he should have called Bulma. The teenager wanted to prove that he could do this on his own, both to himself and everyone else, but he was having no luck so far.

"Maybe he needs feeding again," Piccolo offered, as Gohan rocked the wailing baby in his arms.

"He's had twelve bottles!" He blurted, "I know he's part saiyan but that's just ridiculous!"

"Well try again," the Namekian growled.

Gohan sighed, "Fine, hold him."

Piccolo was startled, as the teenager thrust a thrashing Gokuto into his arms, his tail hitting him in the nose.

Not a minute later, did the halfling return with a fresh warm bottle of milk, that was immediately backhanded by the infant as soon as it came near.

The two Z-Fighter's winced, as the bottle became embedded into the wall.

"Saiyan strength too," Piccolo observed.

Gohan moaned hopelessly, falling onto the couch next to him, "I'm not cut out for this, what the hell am I going to do?"

"It'll pass kid, he's probably just teething or something."

The teen gave him an odd look, "Since when do you know anything about babies?"

"Since you became a father at fifteen that's when," Piccolo shot back.

"Fair point. Ah! Gokuto no!" He cried, as the baby reached up and grabbed Piccolo's antenna.

"Get it off Gohan! Get it off!" he yelled, as Gokuto tugged hard.

The young saiyan quickly prised the child's fingers away from his mentor, causing the boy to scream even louder.

They sighed hopelessly, collapsing onto the sofa.

"I've created a monster," Gohan groaned, resting his head in his heads.

"No you've created a baby brat," came a sudden voice from the doorway, "And it's about time you learned how to deal with one like a man."

"Vegeta?" the teenager blinked, "What are you doing here?"

The prince scoffed, "I'm fed up of your whining and the runt's screeching, now stand aside and give me that Kami forsaken bottle."

Gohan stared at the man, dumfounded, "You're helping?"

"I know, I don't believe it either," said Vegeta, "But here I am, Mary fucking Poppins."

The young saiyan could hardly believe his eyes as he passed the bottle to the awaiting prince and allowed him to take his place on the sofa. Calmly, Vegeta picked up the distraught child by the scruff of his baby grow and sat him on his knee.

"Stop squirming runt," Vegeta growled, pushing the bottle to Gokuto's lips he continued to cry, "drink it, if you know whats good for you."

Gokuto made a tiny grunt of protest, before turning away from the teat, hitting Vegeta in the face with his tail.

Gohan cringed, as Vegeta's eye twitched.

The baby boy cried out in protest as he was firmly lifted up into the air by the scruff of his baby grow once more. The teenager knew the prince wasn't hurting him, but couldn't help but wince as Gokuto became level with Vegeta's line of sight, their noses almost touching.

"Listen here you little runt," he whispered harshly, "I will not tolerate such insolence, let alone from the spawn of an idiot low-class. I am Vegeta, prince of all saiyans, which unfortunately includes you."

Gokuto's frown only deepened, his tail swishing behind him as Vegeta continued, their eyes locked together.

"As your prince, you abide by my rules, which includes drinking your milk when your father tells you to," Vegeta's stare was penetrating, unwavering, and Gohan was glad he wasn't on the receiving end of that glare.

"So, what's it going to be?" the prince said dangerously, reaching over and picking up the bottle once more, "Are you going to drink this manufactured milk that is appropriate for your puny digestive system, or are you willing to suffer the consequences?"

Gokuto was silent, his emerald gaze shifting from Vegeta to the bottle, which was once more aiming for his lips. Then, to Gohan's amazement the little saiyan opened his mouth obediently, allowing the triumphant prince to thrust the teat into his mouth.

The teenager watched in awe, as Vegeta settled Gokuto down on his lap and continued to feed him.

"How did you do that?" the teenager asked weakly, sharing an aghast look with Piccolo.

"Consider it a birthday present," said Vegeta, "I've shown you how to handle the runt properly, I shan't be doing it again."

"Wow, er thanks Vegeta," he blinked.

"Hn."

"Has Gokuto stopped crying now?" came a tentative voice from the hallway.

"Yeah Goten," Gohan sighed as his brother entered the living room in his pyjamas, rubbing his sleep filled eyed, "Sorry for waking you up bro."

"That's okay!" Goten smiled, his eyes fixed on Vegeta, "What are you doing here Uncle Vegeta? Ooh! Is Trunks here?!"

"How many times brat, I'm not your uncle!" The saiyan prince snapped, though it didn't seem to faze the young boy, "And I'm here to teach your brother how to stop being a pussy."

Gohan face-palmed.

"A pussy cat?" Goten asked inquisitively, "Why are you acting like a pussy cat Gohan? Is it a new disguise?"

"It doesn't matter Goten," said the teen, shooting a glare at a smirking Vegeta, "Why don't you go and get dressed? Mum will have a fit if she sees you're still in your pyjamas when she gets back."

"Ooh like when she found out about your tattoos the other day? 'Cause that was really scarwy!"

"Yes, just like that Goten," he sighed, "now hurry up before she gets back and catches you."

As is brother scarpered, Piccolo gave him an amused look, "So, she found out?"

"Yeah, a couple of days ago," Gohan admitted, "I've been a bit careless lately, she caught me topless when I was changing out of a vomit covered shirt and saw everything."

"How did that go?" the Namekian asked.

"I thought I was going to die."

"That bad?"

"Oh yeah, I'm grounded until Gokuto learns how to walk," said Gohan, causing the two men to erupt into laughter.

"What's so funny?" the teenager frowned.

"Nothing," snorted Vegeta, "We just find it amusing that you're a father and still get grounded by your mummy."

"You have to admit Gohan, it is pretty funny," said Piccolo.

"Hilarious," the young saiyan spat, "are you finished mocking me now?"

"No," they chorused.

"Of course," sighed Gohan, "Well now that Gokuto's stopped screaming his head off you'd better go before my mum gets back, I want her to think that I managed to settle the little bugger on my own."

"You'll have a hard time convincing her brat."

"Huh?"

"Gohan, Goten, Gokuto! I'm back!"

"Bollocks."

xxxx

"Happy Birthday Gohan!"

The young saiyan smiled as he swung open the front door to greet the mini chorus.

"Thanks Bulma," said Gohan, as the blue-haired woman pulled him into an enormous hug.

It was late afternoon, and the sun was still shining brightly over Mount Paozu. His mother had finally ceased cooking and was currently changing Gokuto again as he had somehow managed to get himself into a bag full of flour. Gohan and Goten were still trying to clean up the mess when the door bell rang, and the first guests had arrived.

"Hi Gohan!" beamed the ever excitable Trunks, bouncing up to him and handing him a neatly wrapped, palm sized package. "Happy Birthday!"

"Cheers Trunks," he grinned, ruffling his lavender hair, "Come in guys."

Vegeta grunted as he followed his wife and son into the brightly lit home. After Chi-Chi had returned, she had ordered both he and Piccolo out of the house, exclaiming that she didn't want 'aliens' loitering around when she was trying to get everything ready for her 'precious baby boy's' birthday party. They had gladly left hurriedly, much to Gohan's distain, as as soon as they had left did Gokuto start crying again.

Vegeta was dressed in less formal attire than his family, instead opting for his usual attire of spandex gi and gloves. He held a ten month old Bulla on his hip, who giggled as Gohan tickled her belly.

"Hi there Bulla, aren't you getting big?" he smiled, as the baby girl squealed in delight.

"Just wait until she begins her training," smirked Vegeta, "I have no doubt that she'll be able to pummel your brat into the ground."

"Vegeta!" Bulma snapped, "Don't start pinning them off against each other before they can even walk!"

The saiyan prince merely shrugged at his wife, before breezing past them and heading for the living room, Trunks scurrying along in his wake.

"That man, honestly," Bulma sighed, flashing the halfling a smile. "You look handsome Gohan, what's with the outfit?"

The teenager rolled his eyes as she looked him up and down. He was dressed in a nice pair of black trousers and a white, Eastern style shirt.

"It was literally the last thing in my wardrobe that was clean."

Bulma threw back her head in laughter, "That's what you get when you have kids Gohan."

"Yeah, I suppose," he sighed, tugging on his shirt.

The blue haired heiress placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, opening her mouth to reply when the chiming of the doorbell cut him off. Flashing her an apologetic smile, he opened it, leaving her to go off in search of his mother.

"Happy Birthday kid," Piccolo smirked, as the door swung open.

"Piccolo?" Gohan blinked in surprise, "Since when do you use the door?"

"Since your mother put those ridiculous baby proof locks on the windows," the Namekian replied gruffly, stepping into the house.

The young saiyan chuckled, "Yeah she only locked them up for the party. It is a bit daft really, he only got out the once. I'd never thought I'd see the day though…" he added with a wicked smile.

"What?" he asked, eyeing at him.

"The Super Namekian! Finally defeated by baby safety equipment!" Gohan sang, causing his mentor to shoot him a glare most murderous.

"Do you want to live to see your next birthday?"

The teenager simply smirked, leading the way to the living room where his mother was currently handing out refreshments. Old tunes floated from the wireless on the mantelpiece, streamers and balloons filled the room and a large banner hung over the alcove leading to the kitchen, decorated with the words 'Happy 16th Birthday Gohan!"

"Oh hello Piccolo," the ox-princess smiled politely from where she was handing out appetisers.

The Namekian nodded in response, before going to find a corner to meditate in.

Bulma was sat on the arm of the sofa, sipping a glass of wine his mother had just poured her, whilst Goten, Trunks, Gokuto and Bulla played on the rug in front of her. Vegeta was leaning casually up the wall beside the buffet table, no doubt awaiting the point where Chi-Chi announced that the food was ready to devour.

Slowly but surely, the rest of the Z-gang arrived. First Yamcha and Puar, followed by Krillin, Eighteen and Marron; Master Roshi, Oolong and Turtle, even Tien, Launch and Chaiozu came from the North to wish the young saiyan a happy birthday. His grandfather had turned up with his usual mountain of presents, and Gohan was delighted when Dende had arrived too, exclaiming that Mister Popo was covering for him for the night. Korin and Yajirobe were too busy tending to the next batch of senzu beans to attend, though they sent many happy returns.

The Z-gang were simply besotted with Gokuto, who seemed more than happy to be passed around like a package in a game of pass the parcel. Thankfully, it kept him occupied whilst Gohan and Dende helped themselves to cake.

Soon enough, as Gokuto was handed to Launch, did the conversation turn to the upcoming tournament.

"So, how about you Krillin, are you thinking of entering the tournament?" asked Yamcha in between sips of beer.

"Well, I don't know, the wife wants us both to enter…"

"That's right," called Eighteen from where she was now sat with Gokuto on her lap, and allowing Launch to pull silly faces at the boy, "I heard there's plenty of prize money to be won, and we are not missing out on that!"

"I suppose," said Krillin glumly.

"Oh come on Krillin, it'll be just like old times, Chaiozu and I are entering," said Tien.

"Is that so?" Piccolo grunted from the corner, "In that case, I'll enter as well, seems like we've got a couple of years to train-"

"If dad and Piccolo are competing then we want to as well! Right Goten?" Trunks exclaimed.

"Yeah!"

"Well, I did hear that there's going to be a junior competition…" Bulma pondered.

"Nonsense," Vegeta scoffed, "I won't have my son compete with mere children, he is a warrior!"

"Yeah what dad said!" Trunks grinned.

"I'm not sure that it's a good idea," Chi-Chi tutted, "I don't want my boys involved. It seems as though they will miss a lot of their studies training to compete, and Gohan is starting his internship come September…"

Eighteen smirked, "Did I mention that first prize is ten million Zeni?"

"WHAT?!" Chi-Chi shrieked, causing the entire room to clasp their hands over their ears, "Gohan you have to enter, you could get a PhD with that kind of money!"

The young saiyan was halfway through swallowing a mouthful of chocolate cake, and choked, "W-what? But Mum I don't want to compete!"

"Nonsense Gohan, think of the opportunities you'll have at your fingertips!"

"But I don't want -!"

"Your mother's right son, that's not the kind of attitude to have!"

Gohan froze, along with the other occupants of the room. The young saiyan couldn't believe what he was hearing, he had only heard that voice in the darkest moments of his dreams over the last five years. And now, here it was again, echoing over the living room in that cheery manner as though nothing had ever happened.

He had originally thought he had officially lost it, but the look on everyone's faces said differently, as they had clearly heard it too.

"D-dad?" Gohan croaked, half-willing, half-dreading that the voice would speak again.

"Yeah it's me!" Goku laughed from above, "Happy Birthday Gohan!"

There was a dull thud, as his mother promptly fainted.

"Goku, i-is that really you?" asked Krillin, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Hi Krillin! Yep, I'm speaking through King Kai, he's just told me about the world martial arts tournament happening on Earth again!"

"So what Kakarot?" Vegeta snorted, "Come to wish us good luck have you?"

"No Vegeta, silly!" Goku chimed, "I'm communicating with you all to tell you that I've pulled a few strings and thanks to Baba, I'm allowed to come back to Earth for a full 72 hours to compete with you all!"

"You're joking?!" Yamcha exclaimed.

"Not at all my friends, I'm really looking forward to it, can't wait to see you all again, it's been too long. Um, has Chi-Chi fainted?"

There was a chorus of 'yes', causing the deceased warrior to chuckle.

"Ah well, I suppose I'll have to speak to her when I see her. I've got to go, train hard everyone! See you in two years!"

And with that, he was gone.

The room erupted into excitable chatter, each one of the Z-gang not quite believing what had just transpired.

"Wow, wicked eh?" grinned Yamcha.

"Yeah," nodded Krillin, happy tears shining in his eyes, "Goku's really coming back! Now I can't wait! What about you Gohan-? Gohan?"

But the young saiyan had long since left the room.

In fact, the teenager was lounging around outside, his back resting up the wall of the house as he puffed gratefully on a cigarette. Blowing out the torrent of smoke, Gohan rested his head back on the wall, lifting his gaze towards the starlit sky above.

"You alright kiddo?"

It was Bulma.

He shrugged his shoulders, not really feeling like giving her an answer. Bulma sighed, leaning up the wall beside him and getting out her own cigarette. Gohan wasted no time in helping her to light it with a spark of Ki from his finger. She smiled, inhaling her fix and watching the smoke disappear into the night.

"Your mum's in shock," she said after a while, though Gohan said nothing. "Gohan, talk to me, are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm just splendid Bulma," the teen scoffed, "Just spoke to my dead father who tells me he's just nipping back from Otherworld to compete in a tournament. I'm fan-bloody-tastic."

"There's no need for sarcasm Gohan."

Gohan ignored her, taking another drag. "I just can't believe it."

"Neither can I," she sighed sadly, "But chin up kid, I'm sure the reason he's coming back is because he misses you all, the tournament is just a convenient time for him to spend time with everyone."

"I suppose," he sighed, "It's just been ages since I last saw him, the last time was…"

"I know," said Bulma knowingly, "You've changed so much, I think it will be hard for him too."

"Which bit?" he couldn't help but smirk, "The tattoos, the smoking or the kid?"

Bulma chuckled, hitting him playfully on the shoulder, "I meant seeing you all grown up, but yes I can see what you mean. Gokuto will be a big surprise for him."

"He was for me," he snorted.

"Speaking of surprises," said Bulma, fishing inside her jacket pocket, "I have one for you."

"I think I've had enough surprises for one day," the young saiyan groaned.

"Oh, I think you'll like this one," she smirked, taking out a shiny capsule and deactivating it in a cloud of smoke in front of him.

Gohan's eyes widened as the cloud subsided, revealing a sleek black motorcycle with silver cylinders. A large dome, much like one's on the new Capsule Corp. modules, spread over the drivers seat which was covered in plush black leather.

"No. Fucking. Way."

"Yes way," Bulma chuckled, "Do you like it?"

"Like it?!" he exclaimed, walking over and examining the bike, "Bulma, its incredible!"

"Well I should hope so, I didn't have much to work with," she winked, catching the quizzical look on the young saiyan's face, "It was Lime's old bike. I spoke with Mister Lao a couple of weeks ago, he called me up saying the broken bits were just lying around in his garage. He told me how much you and Lime loved that bike, and how she would have wanted you to have it. I've even put a booster seat in for Gokuto."

Gohan's mouth ran dry, and was so overcome with emotion he nearly bowled Bulma over in a fierce hug.

"Thank you," he whispered into her shoulder.

"You're welcome kiddo," she grinned, hugging him tightly, "do you want to take it for a spin?"

"Do I?!" He jumped up in exhilaration, swiping the keys out of her awaiting palm and jumping into the driver's seat.

"Oi Gohan! Nice ride mate! Do you like it?" Yamcha called from the window as soon as he revved up the engine.

Soon enough, the rest of the Z-gang were hanging out of the window, watching with knowing, beaming smiles as the young saiyan got a feel for the bike.

"This, is awesome," Gohan spoke aloud, turning the keys in the ignition. The engine roared to life, echoing over the valleys, and just as he began to ride away into the forest, did his irate mother run out into the garden.

"Son Gohan where do you think you're going?! Who gave you permission to ride that death trap?! You can't leave your birthday party! Get back here!"

"Gohan be careful!" Bulma cried after him.

But the teenager didn't listen, he sped over the mountain's treacherous path, knowing exactly where he needed to be on the night of his sixteenth birthday.

A loud roar echoed over the vast mountain range, and Gohan looked up to see Icarus flying overhead, keeping a vigil on his master's journey. It must have been at least half an hour before he reached the sleepy town of Chazke Village, and ten minutes more before he reached the Lao's.

Usually, he would have gone straight up to Lime's bedroom, but he knew that would startle the now fragile girl. Still, even just sitting outside her bedroom window helped.

Oh what he wouldn't give to tell her of his father's return, what he wouldn't give for her care and support. He wanted to speak to her, he wanted to hear her laughter and smile at her incredible witty nature.

But for now, this would have to do.

He didn't know how long he had spent outside the Lao's home, resting against his motorcycle as Icarus flew around in circles overhead. But by the time he had gotten back the Z-gang had already left, the empty plates and glasses from the party mostly cleared away and his mother and brother fast asleep. Gokuto was sleeping soundly in his cot, gurgling happily in his dreams.

Gohan leaned over the crib, his forearms resting on the wooden frame as he watched the infant sleep. He wondered what he was dreaming about that had made him so peaceful that night, but the young saiyan couldn't help but think that the same thing would fill his own dreams, as soon as his head hit the pillow.