. O .
Dr. Briefs leaned towards Cyril like he was heading a meeting with some of his engineers, "Go back and review your intel. There's been no recorded deaths on Capsule Corporation property during any attempted break-ins."
The doctor gave the group a cursory glance, not quite dismissing them before returning most of his attention to Gohan.
"You're old enough to know now, I think. Let me fill you in on a little secret, Gohan," Dr. Briefs said as he plucked another piece of chicken from his bowl. "Bulma was not the first one in this family to go searching for the Dragonballs."
"Really?"
"Really. Long before Bulma ever thought or even knew about them, I hunted them down. It was one of the major events that preceded my starting the company. I figured if I had the fortitude and wherewithal to track down the legendary objects, make any search tools I needed along the way, and not die in the process, then I'd be able to handle the roller coaster of small business ownership."
"Small business?" Cyril laughed. "Your company is leading about a dozen different industries globally."
"Scalable sustainability," the doctor demurred. "We didn't always used to be so large. The whole enterprise started in the backyard shed of my wife's and my first house.
"Anyways, Gohan, I made a wish, and trust the dragon's power," Dr. Briefs explained. "I don't worry about the future of the company, and not one of the major tech inventions has been compromised by outside forces. No assassination or kidnapping attempts have been successful."
"So let me get this straight," the loud one (Pam, was it?) ventured, "one of the largest tech companies in the world was started because its founder made a wish on a dragon like some sort of genie in a magical lamp and his alien bodyguard now keeps said company and family safe and prosperous?"
"More or less," Dr. Briefs confirmed.
"How long," Gohan, confused, glanced between the doctor and Vegeta, "how long has this been going on?"
"Vegeta's been on my payroll since about three days after he got here."
Gohan's eyes widened to saucers.
"I know not to pass up as good a thing as a highly skilled mercenary all but literally landing on my doorstep."
"But…"
"It's been mutually beneficial for all of us. Vegeta has put in the most time now, but all of Bulma's fighter friends have done a stint on my security team at one point or another, your father included."
"Dad worked for you?"
"For a few days, back when he was a teenager. It didn't suit him much, if you can imagine," the doctor said with a laugh. "Though he did successfully defend against the worst Red Ribbon attack on my company that I've ever faced."
. O .
"Holy purple blood of our timid young Kami, what the hell happened to this place?!" Bulma exclaimed, surveying the mess that was once her kitchen. Piles of chicken carcasses, rice cooker opened and half empty, dishes missing from the cabinets. It was a disaster area of Saiyan proportions.
"Well it wasn't Gohan," Chi Chi sniffed delicately, nudging their new acquaintances further into the room. "He had strict instructions to clean up after himself this week-"
"And you expect him to listen to you?" Malory asked, incredulous.
"Yes, of course."
Malory snorted and immediately hit the Briefs' bar, rummaging around for a glass. Mrs. Briefs shooed her to the table and poured her a generous glass of scotch before assembling the ingredients for what looked like a giant pitcher of mojitos.
"Better start getting used to disappointment," Malory replied with a sigh, sipping greedily from her newly acquired glass. "From those pictures, your boy looks like he's entering his teenage years and it's all downhill from there. First it'll be the sassy backtalk and ignored instructions, then the calls from boarding school about the all night raves and experimental sex positions, then the endless stream of hooker mistakes to clean up after."
Chi Chi and the Briefs exchanged a series of dumbfounded expressions. It was impossible to tell who was having a harder time imagining Gohan in any of the described scenarios.
"Are… are you serious?" Chi Chi voiced when her brain finally stopped short-circuiting.
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
"Honestly?" Bulma replied. "It's kind of hard to tell."
. O .
Gohan sensed a very slight change in ki as he felt his mother and Bulma and others arrive on site and he breathed out a sigh of relief he didn't realize he'd been holding in. Vegeta shifted in his spot and nodded once to Gohan when he caught his gaze, giving him the okay to quietly slip out and away. The new group was making no attempt to be stealthy, he could hear them almost as well as he could sense them once he got out of the influence of the lab's shielding.
He rounded a corner and paused as several sets of footsteps drew nearer. On high alert, Gohan tensed, stopping just short of flipping into Super. Bulma was the first to enter the hallway, brow furrowing as she registered he wasn't Vegeta, but aside from that she appeared surprisingly unruffled. Under the circumstances, probably the best sign Gohan could ask for.
Two more unfamiliar woman followed close behind Bulma, one with her arm in a sling but still carrying a baby around Trunks' age, the other holding a tumbler of some sort of alcohol that she took a healthy sip from before waving his direction.
"That one must be yours," she said, glancing back at his mom as she finally stepped into view. "He has Sterling written all over him."
As the group drew ever closer, the older woman stage whispered to him conspiratorially, "Try not to give your mother too much trouble as you get older, alright, dear?"
The woman patted him on the shoulder and it took everything Gohan had to keep from flinching, whether from the actual touch or the knowledge he'd already given his mother several lifetimes' worth of trouble, he wasn't sure. "That's a good boy."
His mom drew him into a quick, relieved hug next before narrowing her own glare. "We'll talk later about the kitchen."
Gohan gulped.
"How was your day, darling?" Mrs. Briefs asked as she passed, bringing up the rear of the group, carefully balancing a large drink pitcher and stack of glasses.
No more or less confused than he had been all evening, Gohan could at least put together who didn't belong. He sidled up just behind the unfamiliar trio. The baby caught sight of him, yet another new face, and reached out with a cheerful gurgle.
"Be a dear, Gohan, and help Lana out," Mrs. Briefs said from behind him. The woman holding the baby glanced back and sized him up with a surprisingly discerning stare, the likes of which Gohan didn't usually see outside of a fight.
"He's great with kids, no need to worry," Mrs. Briefs reassured. And Gohan found himself watching over a curious little girl, who chattered happily as she squirmed in his hold, vying for as many different vantage points as possible while they entered the lab.
Vegeta rolled his eyes but beckoned Gohan over, relinquishing his protection of the babies. Probably for the best now that a third had been added to the mix. The prince immediately took up position by Bulma, with careful attention to stay within defending distance of the doctor. The balance was still off though, as Gohan counted up the spread of opponents, decidedly human that they were. In the relatively close quarters of the lab, things could get messy, quickly.
Or, at the very least, messier.
It had just been that kind of night.
. O .