EDITED - 05/01/2014
…
Hey, guys!
The most important thing I have to say before beginning this chapter is this: Look at this lovely picture that Kisa-kun drew of Videl, inspired by our little story! :D Is it ok if I'm proud? :D The hair is exactly how I envisioned it (the bangs, the length, the volume... spot on!), so, here you go. :D Directly from my brain to yours, via Kisa-kun's amazing work of art. Thank you! XD
misskisa. deviantart .com (without the spaces), and then paste this thingy afterwards: /art/Pretty-Girl-366216637?q=gallery%3Amisskisa&qo=0
In response to Birdy's question: since I have no idea what ES21 is, I can assume that I'm not indeed a fan. XD Sorry! (but I'll go look it up, if only just for the curiosity) Most of the things in this story are NOT randomly selected (for example, the coach's names; Gohan's other teammates names and their respective poses, when he remembers talking about the whole 'subtle yet meaningful gesture' thing; Rick's name and number; Gohan's number, although just so I could come up with the shirts thing XD) but, the name 'Shin' is the ONE thing that I came up with that is actually random. Lol. You've nailed that one in the head! :D
Oh, and I didn't want Magel91 to be the only one with the scoop about the last chapter's 'pink eyes' thing (sorry, Magel :D) so here's what I told him/her: Little hint... I didn't made it up. It's in the series (and I have the screenshot to prove it XD). Now, what it MEANS... that one's on me. :D
Sorry for the big bold-lettered text. :D
Enjoy!
"Hey, Erasa. Did Videl mentioned how much late she'd be?" Gohan asked.
The blonde was walking in front of him, arm latched onto her boyfriend's. "No, but she promised to text you the moment she arrived." She paused, looking over her shoulder to him. "Don't worry, Sweetie, she wouldn't miss this for the world."
The OSPU Alumni Christmas Gala this year - as every other, he'd been told - was being held in the conference hall of the self-entitled Premier Hotel, a few minutes away from campus but still walking distance, which was good. The three friends arrived at the ample lobby, marvelling at the high ceilings and wide marbled floors for a moment before checking off their coats on the wide reception desk.
Gohan was feeling kind of pumped up, he had to admit. Not only because the full-moon was doing its usual thing on him, but also for a much vainer reason. A couple of weeks ago, out of the blue, Bulma had insisted he'd go to see "her guy" for his tuxedo. He'd resisted it at first, not really seeing the importance of having an outfit you'd probably only wear once or twice in your life custom made for you, but damn the thing if it didn't make him look like James freaking Bond!
Every bulky muscle was impeccably wrapped up by the black garment, hiding and yet showing them off perfectly, but not only that, it was actually comfortable! Well... as much as a suit could be, anyway. But still, considering he was coming to such a formal event, one that he was expecting to be long and tiring, it was good to know he wouldn't have to be feeling constricted and itching to get out of the thing all night long. He'd surely have to thank Bulma for sharing her guy with him.
"You look beautiful, Babe," Sharpner told his girlfriend then. Erasa had always been a very girly girl, as far as he could tell, so the hot-pink knee-length dress suited her perfectly, as did that bright elated smile.
Her high-heels made her a little taller, of course, but she still had to get on the tips of her toes to get a kiss from her boyfriend, whispering, "Thank you, Honey-bunny."
It took him a great deal of effort not to laugh. "Honey-bunny?" Gohan repeated softly, just barely containing a smirk.
"Shut up, G!" His roommate snapped back, a wide variety of deep shades of red painting his entire expression. How amazingly entertaining it was to get him all bothered like that.
With a series of satisfied laughs and huge grins - mainly from himself and Erasa, of course - the trio crossed one of the labeled double-sided doors to the ballroom. It was a huge venue, decorated in tones of warm woods and red drapes, with a few choices of upholstered seating across the walls, and a raised stage, front and center. A large crystal chandelier dangled from the ceiling, a little too opulent for his taste, and a bar area stood on the corner to their right, where a couple of employees in deep red vests were stocking up the glass shelves.
The suggested time of arrival of one hour before the banquet was followed by most - including themselves - which meant a nearly packed house right from the get go. The colorful gowns of the ladies present were circling around tuxedo-black men as some couples were already dancing to the assorted playlist, probably composed of every single Christmas song known to man. He would be satisfied if he could go the whole night without having to dance but was sure it wouldn't be happening. Videl already knew that he wasn't able to do it properly, as he recalled telling her of his horrible skills during the conversation they'd shared on the roof, but Bulma was there tonight as well, and he knew how her deviously genius mind worked, unfortunately. Him being on such an event was rare occasion, so there was no way in hell she'd let it go by without dragging him up for at least one awkward tune. Oh, well. They're her feet.
Bulma would already be in the VIP area by now, rekindling her connections with the wide array of illustrious guests, so he would go meet her later on, nearer to dinner time. Sharpner and Erasa were greeting a few of their friends by the bar, and he was looking around to see if he would recognize anyone. There weren't that many younger people here, which was surprising; apparently galas weren't hip enough to be bothered with nowadays.
He checked his phone for signal and was glad to see all three little sticks, indicating full reception; Videl's message wouldn't be missed when she finally arrived. Hopefully it wouldn't take her too long, since being the sole third-wheel between his blond friends was only bearable until they started making out - he'd give them another ten minutes. Videl always made things go faster, somehow. He smiled, returning his cellphone to his jacket's pocket and his gaze up to the crowd. Mingling it is, then.
About forty-five minutes later, his pocket finally buzzed with a text message that read, "Right outside. Come get me? ;)" Thank goodness she wasn't late for dinner. He snickered at the wink emoticon; it was so her.
Immediately, he exited back to the main lobby, searching for his friend among the few people still out in that area. After a moment, his eyes were drawn to movement on the coat check area, and he saw her figure right when she was turning around.
Their gazes connected in the distance. She looked... breathtaking.
An electrical current pierced through his heart, depleting him of everything. It was something he'd never felt before and nothing he could describe, his senses lost in the image of her.
The entirety of his surroundings vanished before his eyes and the darkness enveloped him. His whole life rushed through his mind, like they say happened just before you die. Emotions he wished he would never have to go through again forced themselves on him, as real and as palpable as they'd been in the actual moments in time.
His soft little hands felt the leathery touch of the seat on Raditz's space pod. Piccolo's screams pierced his sensitive eardrums, as shreds of intense light from Nappa's attack shone through his callused fingers. The distinct smell of Vegeta's tears on Namek, the taste of bile in his mouth after he saw his father take Cell away... and the sight in front of him, at this very moment.
The image in his mind's eye changed, and he saw his own inanimate body, tuxedo and all, shredded and bloodied and spent, left somewhere to die beneath the thundering dark-gray clouds of a barren sky. There was no life in this place. Nothing. The smooth ground on his back formed a large raised stage, square and with four spear-like trimmings on each corner. It was covered in tiles, painted in a deceitful white, so incredibly cold and hard as his own remains, and he was becoming one with it.
His soul was void. His lungs, weighted. The thick drops of icy water that rained down on him burnt his milky eyes but he didn't have the energy to close them. There was nothing left of him but the space he was occupying.
And then a shadow appeared. His vision was blurry but he managed to make out a set of unmistakable spikes of hair. It was his father, kneeling on top of him and saying something, but he couldn't hear him. His big hands shook Gohan's lifeless body and he screamed right into his face with urgent intensity, but he still couldn't make out the words. He could feel him, though. Anger and rage and... fear.
Dad's hand touched his silent inert chest, and it glowed the brightest whites. A flash of ethereal energy cleared up the skies, and the next thing he knew, his whole body jerked violently from the shock it released. He could hear him now.
"Wake up!"
The real world returned to him, erasing the imaginary darkness and the strange place his mind had sent him to. He inhaled a slow, incredibly deep breath like he was making up for all the air he didn't breathe in years. All the raw emotions he wanted to have felt but couldn't, all the tears he wanted to have shed and all the pain of his father's death, ran him over and crashed onto his defibrillated heart like an asteroid on a forsaken planet. His body started shaking uncontrollably, shivering from a coldness he didn't feel anymore. Like he had been sleeping naked and uncovered for the longest night. Like he was regaining consciousness.
What was happening? What… had she done?
Videl was making her way towards him. A dry swallow momentarily broke the rhythm of his quiet panting. It took all he had within to regain himself, but he managed to conceal his breakdown, even if barely. She'd only worry if she'd see him like this.
As she approached him, his eyes took notice of all the attributes of her beautiful figure that he could swear weren't there before. Her exquisite bare shoulders, the delicate ridge of her collarbones, her round breasts and slender waist, supported by her curvy thighs in the most alluring hourglass shape he'd ever seen in his life. The dark blue floor-length dress flowed around her body when she moved, producing a gentle shimmer when it was touched by the light that begged the mystery of how she was wearing the night's sky. Her ebony hair was lazily braided into perfection, adorned with shiny gems here and there, but every single one of them withered when compared to her sapphire eyes.
They trapped him within their spell, and all the rest faded away again. He found himself hypnotized by the lighter hue that encircled the innermost edge of her irises, and the tiny little spots of a deep, darker tone that speckled all around it. It was like they were unveiling themselves to him for the very first time; how could that be possible after having seen them so many times before?
She was standing right in front of him now, an entirely different person than the one he was used to and yet so unmistakably the same. What…? Why…? What was happening?
"Gohan?" Videl called very, very softly. His gaze shifted when she spoke and locked onto her luscious lips as they moved with the words. Something inside him stirred when he remembered the night he took her out to dinner, kicking himself for having wasted the opportunity to kiss those lips when she'd leaned over, when she'd closed her eyes and let the intensity of the moment take her over. He could have kissed her then. God, he could've...
Stop it! What the hell is wrong with you?
"Are you okay?" she asked, her hand reaching up to his face and gently cupping his right cheek. The moment her fingers touched his skin, all the air in his lungs left him. His eyes closed again, wanting nothing more than to erase all things around them, but he forced them back open.
This... is not right. W-What... is... this? Why?
"Gohan, please... S-Say something," the beautiful woman in front of him pleaded, the trembling in her voice just enough to snap him out of it. It was of concern, and he couldn't have that, he couldn't be the one causing her distress, let alone out of some completely unexpected, completely foreign… thing that was making him wonder if he'd lost his mind. He'd sort it out later, alone.
"I-I'm okay," he managed to say. "I'm sorry."
"Are you sure?" Her apprehensive frown wasn't entirely convinced. Her hand slipped from his cheek, down his jaw before returning to her, a motion so achingly slow that he thought he wouldn't be able to make it.
He whispered, "Yes." There was no way this was going to end well if he kept staring into her eyes and lips, so he summoned all of his might and looked away, to the floor, to the walls, and then to the door next to him. "We should get inside."
"Okay," Videl responded, trying to smile but unable to hide her worries. At least, not from him. He pulled the door open and thanked the heavens for putting his two friends right in front of them.
Distraction… Yes, please, some distraction for time to pull himself together.
"Hey, guys!" Sharpner beamed. "Wow, Videl. You look hot!"
"You sure do, Vi!" Erasa agreed, stepping over to the other girl and grabbing her hand for a moment to make her twirl. "See? I told you that dress would fit like a glove."
"Thank you," Vi responded shyly, just before yet another Christmas song started chiming around the ballroom.
Erasa's eyes widened instantly, and she turned to her boyfriend. "Oh, Baby, I love this song! Come on!" She grabbed the blond man's arm and forced him towards the dance floor. Gohan followed them with his eyes but wasn't really seeing them, concentrating only on his hands inside his pants' pockets as they contracted into fists and then released, contracted and released, just for the illusion of control.
What was happening? Why were all his senses so enhanced, his heart pounding so hard against his chest? His pulse throbbed inside his skull like the mother of all headaches and yet with no pain, just a loud thumping like a drum. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Was it the moon again? Damn it and its celestial glow! All high and mighty like it owned him just because its light was supposed to do stuff to his body. But then again… the moon had never made him feel such an urge to do something while still having absolutely no idea what that something actually was. Was it his hormones acting up or something? 'Cause he was more than fed up with them and all the crazy shit they'd put him through during his early teens. But… but this whole thing started when he saw Videl, so… so maybe it was just some sort of… hormone overload or something. Like a damn animal.
Freaking Saiyans and their freaking blood in his veins...
Suddenly, he felt an arm snaking around his, and without any warning or suggestion, he could only watch as Videl pulled him to one of the white leather couches that surrounded the big room. She only let go when he was sitting to her right, and then looked sternly at him, saying, "Spit it out."
"Huh?" was all he managed to say.
Vi just stared for a moment, her eyes analysing his while charged by the frown on her face. It was too much, so he forced himself to look away, anchoring his vacant gaze on the crowd in front of them. It made her sigh. "What's wrong?"
He could still feel her eyes on him. There was no way he could ever look back at them again, but some stupid little voice deep inside told him he could never survive if he didn't. She took it in her hands to decide the conundrum for him, gripping his jaw and forcing him back to her. "Please," she insisted. "Talk to me."
Fortunately, the world didn't end when their eyes reconnected. There was only peacefulness now, like a switch that turned off the whirlwind, the calm that extinguished the storm. All because of the blue in her eyes that earlier had caused so much agitation and alarms to go off in his head, warning him about something he still had no clue about. He knew he was staring now, silently like a damn freak, but luckily she wasn't looking away, just smiling, letting him see as much of the blue as he needed.
Or just going along with the freakiness so as not to disturb the crazy man, though he prefered the former option.
A truthful smile gradually grew on him, and he saw most of her own uneasiness slip away from her eyes, her shoulders, erasing the lines of her frown. He felt like himself again. Well, mostly. "I'm just tired," he told her, which wasn't exactly a lie; it was exhausting to feel so much.
Her wry expression spoke in her behalf, letting know she didn't buy even an ounce of his excuse. It made him happy to see she was herself again too, always perceptive of these things and what was going on in his head. Yet again, he blamed the moon for the longest few minutes of his life, pushing them aside into the "it was just a dream" folder in his clogged up mind, even though his operating system complained something about file misplacement. He reached around her back and clamped her left arm, bringing her closer him with an embrace. "I'm okay," he said. "I promise."
The hug helped a bit in reassuring her, but her eyebrows were still not satisfied, curving as if complaining about his earlier actions. "You scared me," she whispered.
"I'm sorry," he whispered back. He reached for her forehead, kissing it just beneath her hairline in a gesture of affection he was beginning to love, his eyes closing sluggishly at the contact. His lips allowed a moment before parting from her skin, but the rest of him didn't follow, seeking refuge within her hair from a long night that was just starting. It never crossed his mind that he would ever prefer the green apples of her hair more than the fruit itself, but there it was, intoxicating him like a perfume and a poison at the same time, a sweet aroma and a powerful elicitor of his utmost addictions. And the softness of her arm, bare and warm... So smooth.
A few minutes passed while he told himself not to think of that hug, of the way he was basically inhaling her and groping her flesh - even if in an innocuous location and manner - just allowing the overall feeling take the earlier ordeal away. And then finally, his attention was shifted completely when a man's voice took over the speakers around the room. "Welcome to the Orange Star Alumni Christmas Gala. If you can please make your way towards the reception hall to the left of the stage, we will be serving dinner in a few minutes. Faculty and guest-list members, please proceed to the right side of the stage to the VIP area."
"I guess that's us," Vi said, and he nodded, disconnecting from the hug. They got up together, and quickly spotted Sharpner and Erasa as they made their way to the left reception hall. They yelled out some stuff he labeled as mockery and joking due to the whole VIP status he and Videl had that they didn't, but he was too numb to pay attention to actual words from them. Vi responded to whatever they were saying, thankfully, and there went the blonds, through the door and out of sight.
Slowly, the two remaining teens walked to the right side of the ballroom, stopping by the small line to the VIP area. When their turn arrived, the big suited up man holding a clipboard asked gruffly, "Name?"
"Gohan Son, plus one," he told him.
The man checked his papers and gave them an approving nod, silently inviting them to take the hallway towards what he assumed was the fabled VIP room. The pathway there was really long, unexpectedly, and kinda dark considering there were no lights but the bare essential ones so people wouldn't crash against the walls or something. Vi was really quiet, walking by his side, and he knew it was because of his earlier stupidity, making her worry and then explain nothing to make up for it. She was probably cursing the day she'd agreed to come with him to this thing, but she was here now, so he'd at least try to show her a good time.
Hands inside his pockets, Gohan nudged his elbow out, poking her with it so he'd have her attention. Videl looked over at his arm, sticking out so she would take it with her own, and with a heart-warming gaze and an even warmer smile, she did, holding it tightly with both arms.
"You know… I don't think I've ever been a 'plus one' before," she said grinning.
It made him chuckle. "I only take you to nice places."
"Yeah," she agreed, "greasy burger joints and classy formal galas."
Both their laughters felt incredibly real and reassuring, making the tension still lurking within his muscles to finally give place to relaxation. It was much needed right about now, and he'd make sure to hold on to this feeling for as long as possible tonight.
They reached the end of the hallway, and he looked around the people already there. Many of his teachers, some others that weren't his but that he knew from around campus - mainly from the Science and Tech building - and even Coach Leon in a brown suit that didn't quite fit him, both physically and figuratively given his mental image of the guy. He'd go greet him in a minute, but first he needed to canvass the smallish room for the presence of blue hair, finding it eventually, surrounded by a handful of boring looking men. "There's Bulma," he told Videl, pointing her way with his disentangled hand. "Let's go save her."
Videl shot him an adorable confused look, her quizzical eyebrows making him chuckle. He broke the connection with her arm and silently told her to stay put while he walked towards the older woman. "Ms. Briefs?" Gohan spoke as he reached her, loud enough so the whole group could hear him. All eyes turned back to him and Bulma bit down a smile.
"Yes?" she played along.
"If I could have a moment," he continued to say, "there's a couple of things we need to discuss regarding your speech in a few hours."
"Of course." Bulma did a petite head bow. "Excuse me, gentlemen. Duty calls." She exited the group and took Gohan's arm as they made their way back to Videl.
A few steps further, she grinned. "You're a lifesaver, I was dying there. Thank you, Honey."
"No sweat." It was bad enough that she had to be President Briefs all the time during these things, always too decorous and with a completely out of character vocabulary - meaning swearword-free - but having to listen to compliment after lewd compliment about how ravishing she looked, or how it was a crime that she was still single - presumably, of course - was something he hated to have her go through. Well, not on his watch.
They stopped after a safe distance and finally greeted with the customary warm hug. It was brief, though, as she clamped both his biceps and looked him over, up and down and back up again. "See! Didn't I tell you? My guy would make you look amazing and here you are, looking like James freaking Bond!" They were too in synch with each others thoughts sometimes, he mused internally; that's exactly what he'd thought of his cool new suit. "But anyway," she continued, "where's your roommate? I wanna meet him."
"I didn't bring him after all," he told her. "He came with his girlfriend, so they're on the other room now. You'll meet them later."
"Oh, okay. So who did you bring?"
Gohan smiled. "The next best thing." Videl was only a couple of steps away from them; he extended his arm so she would join in. "This is Videl. I think you've met before."
Well, he didn't really know what he was expecting, admittedly, whether or not Bulma would recognize Vi considering his friend's earlier explanation that they were nothing more than mere acquaintances, but… that face had definitely not even been up for consideration. It was utter and complete shock, no mistake about it. Staring at the younger woman, lips parted, eyebrows arching steeply and stretching her eyes wide. Did she really recognize her? Or was she just gobsmacked by the fact he'd come to this thing with such a beautiful girl as a plus one? Because he could definitely see that; he was shocked himself!
"You… kn-know her?" Bulma asked, her gaze sluggishly returning to him.
His smile intensified, eyes turning to Vi. "Yup. She's my best friend."
"I thought Sharp was your best friend," Videl said, her grin matching his own.
"Just don't tell him I said it." It made her laugh and he joined her promptly. Sharpner was a great friend too, and he didn't really like putting people in these sorts of ranks, giving more worth to ones and not others, but at the end of the day, there was some sort of comfort he got from Videl that no one else had been able to provide since his dad died. He didn't even bother trying to rationalize it or explain why or how that came to be true, because he was sure he'd never find his answer. It simply was. They'd just… clicked ever since they'd first met.
It took Bulma a strangely long moment to get over her stupor, but she eventually did, extending her hand in a cordial handshake. He'd expected a hug instead, hugaholic at heart as his knew her to be, but she was probably still in "President Briefs mode". "Hi, Videl," she said. "Nice to see you again."
"Likewise, Ms. Briefs," Vi reciprocated while taking her hand for a quick moment. "It's been a while."
"It sure has. Couple of years, at least."
"Yeah, that sounds about right." Vi nodded. "I'm looking forward to your speech later on. They're always so inspiring."
Bulma waved a hand, dismissing entirely what the other had said. "Oh, I wouldn't call it a speech, really, just some random thoughts I've put together."
Videl chuckled. "That's incredibly humble of you. I remember your words when you came to my high-school a few years ago." She paused, looking up a little as one would do while accessing their memories. "If you don't feel it, then you don't own it. Like love, your destiny will possess you. And you can't help but know it."
The older woman gasped, a hand to her chest. "I can't believe you remember that…!"
"Like I said, inspiring."
After a moment of amazement, Bulma's face did an emotional one-eighty, the image of endearment if there ever was one - her "aww face". And then she looked back at Gohan. "Can she be my best friend too?"
A series of warm laughs emanated from their small group, but they were cut extremely short, since the young Saiyan hurried the two women to the assigned seats at the first molecule of aromatic evidence that reached his nostrils, letting him know dinner was coming. And it smelled so divine… He had to gulp dryly so as not to drool instead.
Gohan wasn't really sure of how much time had gone by, but the minutes flew, whichever their number; forty-five maybe? Desserts had just been served in buffet-style instead of the more personal way the main dishes had, with a wide array of servers bringing along dish after dish and drink after drink. There were so many amazing delicacies scattered across the long tables that he had to fight himself not to take one big plate of each, since it wouldn't play well with his kickass suit if he went full-Saiyan on the sweets. He'd at least try to act just as distinguished as he looked.
So he stuck with the ever-favorite chocolate cake, not too bad but nothing like Bulma's mom's, that's for sure. Videl also had a slice of her own, although a much more modest one, both carving at their pieces while standing - or leaning, in his case, against the wide archway that'd previously taken them to that very room. Normally, he'd already finished this piece and gone for the next, but his speed of consumption was incredibly slow - by his standards - tamed by the words out of Videl's mouth.
He had no idea what she was talking about anymore, though, since he'd lose track of the chat every single time she'd lick her lips for any rogue cake crumbs. Six times so far, in counting.
"Hey, guys. How's it going?" he heard Bulma asking as she approached them, and immediately upon looking her way, something stood out as not quite right There was something sparkling in her eyes, but he couldn't make out what it was. Amusement? Though it wasn't relaxed like she'd just been told a funny joke, it had a predatory feel to it. It made him tense up absentmindedly.
"Oh, this cake is wonderful, so I think it's going pretty good!" Videl chuckled, bringing his eyes back to her. Seven times. "Don't you agree, Gohan?"
It was a well-known, presumably sexy gesture, as according to movies he'd seen on the TV, but never in a million years would he have found a woman licking her lips as something seductive. Yeah, right; how come it was making his cool new suit feel like a constrictive sauna then?
"Gohan?" Videl repeated.
"Huh?" Oh, shit, he hadn't answered her question. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
The young woman chuckled again. "You can always go get some more cake, you know? No need to daydream about it." Well… she wasn't exactly wrong; cake had been involved in his reveries. "In fact…" She took the plate from his hands and placed it on top of her now empty one. "I'll go get you another slice, how about it?" Not waiting for an answer, she started towards the buffet table but didn't even manage a single step, Bulma's hand stopping her on her tracks.
"Oh, no. You're not going anywhere, my dear," the older woman told her. "Not until you take care of things here first." That smirk was terrifying… What things?
"Things?" Videl asked. "What things?"
There were no further words and no further movement, apart from Bulma's hand, extended in the air with only her index finger sticking out. Was she pointing up? What was up?
Both teens looked above them as commanded, and there you had it: mistletoe.
"Oh, my God!" he heard Videl say in a flash, the clinking of silver forks against white ceramic bringing his gaze back down, the plates leaving her hands and being shoved onto Bulma's. Vi grabbed his jacket's lapel then, pulling strongly at it to bring his face down to her. And then she kissed him. One point thirteen seconds.
Just as quickly, she looked back at Bulma. "We've been standing here for ten whole minutes! I hope it's not bad luck or anything."
Bulma chuckled. "I think you'll be okay." She snaked her free arm around Videl's. "Come on. Let's go get you some more cake." The two women started walking away, but he still made out some more movement from Bulma, looking over her shoulder and back to him while mouthing a silent, "You're welcome."
Not that he saw it, though. Or if he did, his brain didn't relay the message entirely. His hand trembled as it reached up to touch his lips, fingertips getting tacky from her lip gloss. No… No, dammit! All his hard work over dinner, keeping the door to his feelings closed shut and locked, laughing and chatting and being his normal self so he didn't have to think about all the weird shit his mind was pulling on him, all put to waste by a tiny parasitic plant. That door was about to burst open, imaginary wood groaning in protest of what was being held behind it, struggling to get free, but this was not the time to analyze all that mess.
Neurons turning skeins of yarn inside a knitter's basket, unrolled and all in the same color; he doubted the mess could ever be truly untangled.
In a stroke of genius, he rapidly reached for his pocket and retrieved his cellphone, pressing the few buttons that would save him from impending doom. The ringing tone was excruciating, unable to relay his torture onto the receiving end so they'd pick up faster, but eventually it went through. "Hello?"
Gohan smiled in relief and love, all the rest evaporating his mind when he heard that sweet little voice. "Hey, Pumpkin," he told his sister.
"Gohan!" Mia shouted. "Is everything okay?"
"It is," he assured her. "Just wanted to check up on you guys. How's everything going?"
"It's going great! Trunks brought his new game and we've been playing for almost an hour."
Gohan chuckled. "Wow, that's awesome. The little terrors aren't giving Mom a hard time, are they?"
"Nah, they're behaving tonight." She giggled. "Are you sure you're okay? Your voice seems a little... lost."
He smiled to himself. His baby-girl was light-years away, now giving place to a beautiful young woman so incredibly perceptive of "adult things" even though she was only eight. In the past, Bulma had learned from Vegeta that Saiyans - both male and female - matured earlier than humans, even though some might look younger externally than they actually were. Something about them being battle-ready a lot faster and keeping their youth without experiencing actual "old age" which would impede them to fight. Not that many of them would live long enough to become old, anyway. It seemed accurate enough, that information, even for half-breeds, given that at age five he was already reading high-school grade books and kicking alien ass.
It pinched his heart, though. Couldn't she remain a baby for just a while longer?
"I'm just a little tired," he told her. "But I wanted to hear your voices before you went to bed."
"Hmm... okay." She didn't sound too convinced, but he couldn't dwell on it right now.
"I love you so much, Pumpkin."
He could hear her grin. "I love you too. Do you wanna talk to the boys?"
"Yes, please."
She would never have guessed this sort of attendance tonight. True that most of these people weren't current OSPU students - as according to their perceivable ages - but still, this was quite a roundup of alumni.
After returning to the main stage area, just a few minutes ago, the plan was for both Videl and Gohan to try spotting either a cluster of blond hair or Erasa's bright pink dress, but it was proving itself either herculean or just plain impossible among this sea of people. But then again, Gohan didn't really seem to be focused on the mission at hand, looking around like he was supposed to but with vacant eyes instead of watchful ones.
Maybe the kiss thing had been a little too muchfor him, considering the way he was acting so distant and detached ever since, responding in standardized sentences only and with as little words as possible so as not to seem impolite. Adding that to the fact he'd acted so incredibly weird - and even somewhat scary - when they'd met earlier in the lobby, breathing hard, staring intensely at her like he was high or dreaming or something. It might not have helped that he'd had a sheltered childhood either, homeschooled and away from other kids his age until recently, so…
Oh, God… had that been his first kiss back there under the mistletoe? How awful of her! She'd made him waste his first kiss on a stupid ritual under a stupid plant! Such a shitty thing to do, dammit… She could've at least have made it worth it, made it last a little longer or something.
Nice going, Vi. He must be dreading the day he'd invited her to accompany him.
Suddenly, the speakers around the room crackled to life, and it got everyone's attention to the stage and the small man that was standing there. It was Dean Momo, and Ms. Briefs was just a few steps behind him, a pleased little smile shining on her face. Her beauty was indeed remarkable, classic and flawless and seemingly undying in the strapless gown she was wearing, sheath and in a beautiful deep emerald-green. All eyes were on her, she was sure, every attendee star-struck in fascination while disregarding the dean entirely. She'd always been like that, as far as Videl remembered from random events, like a magnet, always in the spotlight even if it wasn't her intention. And it definitely didn't seem like she intended most of it, with the way she was actually so down to earth during dinner.
"I guess we can look for them after Bulma's speech," Gohan suggested, looking at her for confirmation. Videl simply nodded; it'd be easier spotting their two friends once the crowd started to scatter away. They were probably making out somewhere out of sight anyway.
"If I can have your attention, please," Dean Momo spoke, a slight feedback making her grimace for a second. "I would like to thank you all for coming to this year's Alumni Christmas Gala. It has always been of the utmost importance for us here at OSPU, to cement good relationships between our current and former students, not only as a way to provide a free exchange of ideas and opinions between the different people that go through our institution, but also to inspire and form connections, of professional and personal natures." He paused, glancing over his shoulder for a moment. Bulma gave a few steps his way. "This year, we are extremely fortunate to have one of the greatest minds that this university has had the privilege of nurturing. She needs no introductions so I'll keep it short. Ms. Bulma Briefs."
The whole room erupted in claps, welcoming the beautiful genius. With a graceful smile on her face, she took the podium after the small man stepped out to the side. "Thank you, Dean Momo," she said to the microphone, "and all the faculty members for having me here. I want to thank all former and current students for coming listen to my ramblings and pretend to be amazed with what I have to say." A few chuckles were heard throughout, Gohan's included, just to her side, and then Bulma continued.
"I wanted to start off with a confession. When I was a little girl... I was a spoiled brat." The whole room erupted again, this time with laughter, not expecting the revelation. "I was," she repeated, "but as I grew older into my teens, I noticed that much of it came from my colossal stubbornness and idealism.
"From a very early age, my father groomed me to take his place as the president of Capsule Corporation. I was to go to business school and learn all the tricks of the trade, and when the time were to arrive, he could peacefully retire, reassured that the future of his hard-earned company would be taken care of. And even though things didn't come out exactly that way, at the time I was okay with it.
"But I didn't want to be just a business owner, even if that business was already well-established and extremely profitable. I wanted more out of life. I wanted to be able to use my mind and come up with new things, useful things. I wanted to do what my father did, so I made it happen. Long before I ever went to college to study physics and engineering, I came up with a new kind of radar that could be used to search for specific things, living or dead, electronic or natural. Anything. I worked on it for three whole years, researching indefinitely, making prototype after prototype and testing each one of them to correct every flaw and improve the thing to the maximum of its capabilities.
"I didn't know what would be the true value of such a thing. If it would be doable, if it would be needed. Why was I even bothering? My father had an army of engineers and researchers at his disposal. How would I, a child, be able to come up with something new? What would I bring to the same table these guys were working on as well?
"It was hard, I can tell you that. I didn't have any shred of a social life. Every waking minute of every day was spent either at school or at home working on it. It was my baby and I was adamant on making it a reality. So one day, when I was sixteen, my summer vacation had just started and I went for the ultimate test drive. I took it out into the world, just me, it and my dino-caps. I was so passionate about this that I didn't really stop to think of the dangers. A sixteen-year-old girl, out in the world, all by herself. I couldn't defend myself apart from having a gun I managed to sneak out of my father's office safe.
"The day that I had established to go out in my adventure, I hesitated. I left two hours later than I had planned because I couldn't get up from my bed. The doubt was weighing so much, it paralyzed me, but I eventually did it.
"And you know what happened? My radar worked perfectly and went on to be manufactured worldwide, used in emergency situations, for example, to find people that are buried under rubble of collapsed buildings, used to monitor wildlife and endangered species, and a long list of other things. Useful things, like I had dreamed of. But most importantly, do you know what happened? I met a bunch of new people, I saw a ton of new places. I found my first real boyfriend, and I found…" She paused, taking a deep breath. "One of my dearest, closest friends in the world. The most amazing man I have ever met. Strong and caring and carefree. And he helped me find myself."
Bulma stopped for a moment, looking back their way within the crowd. Was she talking about Gohan? How silly, of course not; he wouldn't even have been conceived at the time the woman was a teenager. Videl looked up to him, and considering the soft smile on his face, he knew which friend the blue-haired was referring to, surely.
"If it wasn't for him," the woman continued, "I wouldn't be the person I am this day, in front of you. I wouldn't have my family, I wouldn't have my son. I wouldn't have known true love." Was this about her son's father then? Assuming the "true love" part was referring to the great headline mystery that was the man in President Briefs' life. She'd never once talked about him publicly - ever, going as far back as Videl could remember - and when asked about him, the only words she'd give the media about him were: "the love of my life". That and only that, no name, no nothing. "True love" had to be about "the love of her life"; it only made sense. "He died a few years ago and there isn't a day that passes by that I don't think about him. Where he is and ... who he's there with." Well, if the guy was dead, she had a pretty good idea where he'd be right about now, but the woman was talking like he was simply in a place far away instead. Goddammit, now she was truly curious.
But then, Bulma added, "His son is here today and I love him like my own." It all made sense after that.
Videl looked up at Gohan's face once again, but now that soft smile was strained, lips pressed together as if trying to keep the appearance that he actually wanted to produce it, but his eyes were shiny, his eyebrows curving down above them. Bulma was talking about his father.
There wasn't much Videl knew about her friend's family. She'd seen a photo of his brother, sister, and Trunks, Bulma's son who Gohan called "cousin", though she knew it wasn't by blood. According to him, Bulma had no actual family ties with his family, even though they'd told Dean Momo she had for bureaucratic reasons upon applying for OSPU earlier that year. Apparently, Gohan's and Trunks' fathers were like brothers in some way, though she hadn't pressed for what that "way" actually was. So basically… all she knew of his family were four names and an emotional bloodline of sorts, stronger than a real genealogical one. She didn't even knew his father's name…
That was definitely gonna have to change, but not tonight. She'd never demand information that Gohan wasn't prepared to give her, and tonight, after all the weird stuff he'd thrown at her and that mistletoe fiasco, it might not be the best time for that particular question. His dad was a very delicate matter, of that she was sure. It had become clear on the way his whole posture would change whenever the topic of "parents" would surface between their group of friends, so she wouldn't push the issue any further.
It was hurt. Every time his father came to his mind, his gaze would spell pain, sorrow, a hole in his heart. It was all there right now, in the black of his eyes, so her hand flew to his instinctively, gripping at it in some dumb attempt of taking the suffering away. There was no power that could accomplish that feat, erase seven years worth of emotional injury, but hopefully, it'd at least take his mind off of it for a second.
Gohan looked down to her at the contact, and even though she felt shy about the action, the intensity in his stare raising up the self-consciousness she wasn't feeling before, she refused to look away from him. As right now, she'd do anything to give him relief from the dark place his mind receded to sometimes. From his past. Holding his hand was the least she could do to show him just how much she was there for him.
A timid yet precious little smile softened the lines on his forehead, the weight in his eyes, and made her smile back. Their fingers interlaced together when he looked back up to Bulma.
"He made me realize how fragile life is," Bulma was saying, "so if I can teach you only one thing today, it's for you not to waste your time trying to live someone else's. Make your own path.
"Life has the ability to hit you in the face like a ton of bricks. It can, and it will, put up wall after wall in your way, just as it did for me. The only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I was doing, and so, if I couldn't find a door on the wall, I would go around it. If I couldn't go around it, I would climb it. And if all else failed, I would ask my friend to just crush it down for me. He was that strong." Gohan's warm chuckles were like music to her ears, unexpectedly louder than all the others around them. Maybe his father was that strong, and Bulma wasn't just saying that as a joke of sorts. Though she very much doubted the man could've broken any actual physical brick walls with his bare hands. Even Daddy would have to concentrate really hard not to break a fist if he'd attempt to do so.
"Everyone has something that they are passionate about," Bulma continued. "If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. And don't settle. As with all the matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. You just have to follow your gut and trust that the dots will somehow connect in the future.
"There is a famous quote I love, that goes something like: 'the beautiful thing about learning is that nobody can take it away from you'. Life will give you the most important lessons you will ever learn. The universe is the most amazing classroom and all things within, priceless subjects. You just have to make yourself open to it and eat the information up like it was your last meal on this Earth.
"So to you all, my dear students, I say only this: stay hungry and break the walls. You won't regret a single minute of it.
"Thank you."
The room erupted one final time, longer and louder than ever before, claps and cheers echoing all around them and even a few whistles from a more energetic bunch. A few minutes passed before the music returned to the speakers, attracting a wide variety of colour as the dancing couples came back as well. From the middle of them, their two blond friends emerged, grinning and elated with enthusiasm. The prospect of meeting the Bulma Briefs must've been burning them up with even more anticipation after that amazing speech, for sure.
Said woman had stepped down from the stage, greeted by wave after wave of eager students and assorted people, all wanting just a minute of her time. There weren't enough minutes in a day for every single one, though, and with a well-trained excuse and the accompanying elusive move - how many times had she trained that particular escape? - she managed to reach their small group. Erasa and Sharpner were all but shaking as Ms. Briefs hugged them completely casually, their lips gapped so widely they actually seemed to be hurting, but soon were back to normal at the realization of how normal Gohan's "aunt" was after all.
Close to half an hour of informal chit-chat regarding all manner of random things, President Briefs had to take over again, excusing herself with big hugs and pecks on everybody's cheeks before resuming her duties around the ballroom. Gohan and Videl took to one of the white sofas again, watching their two blond friends dancing around to a catchy Christmas tune she didn't care to recall the title to.
Videl sat on the very edge of the padded seat, while Gohan was slouched back into it. After a while, she looked at him over her shoulder and patted his knee in a comforting gesture. "How're you feeling?"
"I'm okay," he said with a tired smile. "How about you?"
Videl grinned, extending her words suggestively.. "Well... I really wanted to dance..." was all she said, biting her bottom lip in order to fill in the for what was left unsaid. It was cute the way his eyes darted directly to her mouth when she did that, as was the soft blush spreading to his cheeks. She shouldn't be making him feel even more awkward than she already had tonight, but he was so incredibly adorable! It'd take a great deal of self-control not to, and the emotional rollercoaster this night had turned out to be was making it incredibly hard to do so.
His eyes managed to look away then, and he sighed, just as the current music ended, shifting to a slower one. "I don't really know how, Vi." The tone in which he'd said it wasn't a thorough and complete "no", so she took it as a "maybe I just need a little extra push" and jumped off to her feet. His eyes did a quick glance at her breasts before feeling back to the side again, so it accounted for the way the rest of his words became slurred and nervous. Maybe the jump had been a little too bouncy. Or maybe not nearly enough. "M-my mother tried to teach me before, and-"
"You were a kid then," Videl interrupted. "You're a man now." She asked for his hand and he gave it to her, and then he got up. Letting her eyes wander a bit while he composed his jacket, she took a moment to reassure herself of her words. A man… and what a man. Not even if the damn hotel caught fire or the earth started shaking, was she gonna let him go home without at least one dance. And fuck the zombie apocalypse too. Not even then!
She remembered a time when she would mock the grown women that acted all girly in front of men, going incredible lengths to be prettier or nicer or doing unnecessary things just to lure them into liking them better. And here she was now, all those women pointing at her and laughing in her face when she stepped closer and pretended to straighten out his impeccably leveled bow-tie, just so she could touch him that one extra time. Hypocrisy, meet Videl Satan.
"I'll teach you," she told him softly, taking his hand in hers while driving them to the dance floor, though she stayed on its edge instead of furrowing into the crowd. She faced him then. "This particular song is a waltz," she began, knowing that maybe his brain would embrace the concept more easily if he had measurable facts and notions to hold on to. "If you notice it goes one-two-three, one-two-three." He nodded. "So, we have to dance it like that, one-two-three. Get it?" He nodded once more though frowning a bit, probably because the theory seemed too simple for such a horrible process when it came to practice. "Now pretend you're playing the guitar."
His eyebrows sunk in confusion. "A guitar?"
Videl smiled; yeah, it might seem a little weird, but it was the easiest way to remember the pose. "Yes, a guitar. How would your arms be like if you were playing the guitar?"
Gohan took a moment to consider the problem, looking down at his arms and then rearranging them mutely in the way he'd normally hold the instrument. Without any sound herself, Videl brought her body closer to his, her left hand taking its place on his right one in a feathery-light hold. Her left hand carefully placed his other one on the curve of her waist, and then finally went up to take its place on his broad shoulder. "Okay, now... look down at my feet."
He did, but immediately looked back up again, way up to the ceiling, taking a deep breath before slowly doing what she'd asked. It was strange but it wasn't the first time that adjective had turned up that night, so she didn't dwell on it. Quickly, she explained the footwork while accompanying the one-two-three rhythm, bringing her head back of from their feet before asking, "Do you think you can manage that?" His lips produced a funny smile, all crooked and uneasy which made her grin. "Okay, let's try it."
All Videl could do was laugh, even more wholeheartedly upon realizing it was reeling his wonderful chuckles right along. It was a great achievement all its own that he'd managed to not step on her toes, but all the rest was excruciatingly painful to watch. Her right hand latched off from his shoulder a bit to clean the tears on the corner of her eyes, just before she decided to put him out of his misery and calling it quits. "You're really that bad, huh?"
He grinned, albeit somewhat shyly. "I told you."
"You sure did." She giggled one last time, meeting his eyes. "No problem. I have a different method. It's kind of fool proof."
He snorted. "Oh, yeah?"
"Yep." He might not believe it, but there was no way they could go wrong with this other technique. Her wide grin softened, as did all the rest of her. Her right hand brought his extended arm closer to them and her head leaned into him, allowing her left cheek to feel the warmth of his chest, right in the middle, right above his heart. Eyes closed, she spoke no other words, letting the soft swaying of her body do the talk.
His forced breaths and erratic heartbeat didn't go by unnoticed, but she'd never point it out. Having been sheltered from this kind of social interactions growing up, she knew fully well that even the simplest thing would probably look too new and scary for him. It'd been amazing to watch his evolution throughout the months, ever since he'd first came to college, and it filled her with a delightful sense of pride to know that in some small way, she'd helped making this man in front of her. She couldn't take too much of the credit though; it was his own achievement, no doubt about it.
Nearly a whole five minutes in, did she finally felt him relaxing and accompanying her slow movements. His chin dropped to rest on the top of her head, making her smile to herself in contentment.
It didn't really matter to her how it'd came down to this moment. Was he still just a friend to her? Was she, in his eyes? She allowed all questions to evaporate from her mind, relishing in the feeling instead, because here she was right now, dancing with the most handsome man in the whole room - in the whole hotel, in the whole city - absorbing his amazing natural scent and hearing his heart beat steadily yet fast. His strong hand on her waist slid a touch further down towards the small of her back, pulling her infinitesimally closer, the movement lighting her belly on fire. Her face shifted the tiniest bit into his chest; he did the same within her hair.
It didn't matter. How could the world matter right now?
How many times had they practiced this position before? A handful, he'd guess. His arms around her, hands all but clawing at her back in the most gentle manner he could muster like she'd float away if he'd let go a single inch. Her face was hidden from the world in the fire at his chest, and her hair… Could a scent drive a man crazy and soothe him at the very same time?
But she wasn't crying this time. It wasn't a gesture for kindness, for support during a difficult time or the tears that'd come with. There wasn't a third party involved, no precursor for her distress or the need for him to comfort her. Her nose was trying to furrow a path to his heart simply because it was his heart. Her thumb was stroking his fingers because they were a part of him, holding her right hand to his chest while the other rubbed gently and aimlessly up and down his back. Simply because it was his back.
Never this closeness had brought a pulse so heavy, pounding his veins from the inside with the pressure and the speed like he'd been running for ages around the planet. Never had the touch of her skin sang to him, luring him into shaking uncontrollably because otherwise he'd be stroking it like a mad man. Never had he seen her so clearly with his eyes closed shut, her spirit so evident and distinct, her body so obvious next to his.
It was all so terrifying - this contact, what it might have meant, if anything, but most of all, the possibility it would end and never repeat itself ever again.
Some sort of self-protection in him said to make up an excuse and just leave, because the more he'd fall into this dream, the worst it would crush him when reality were to come back. But her hair wasn't letting him, her skin was refusing him full-consciousness, her breasts against his stomach making his hand pull her closer instead, descending an inch down onto the perfect curve of her back. He was lost in her, and eventually, it stopped feeling like doom but a numb kind of heaven instead.
His heart stopped rushing, beats thumping along with her rhythm. The cold sweats ceased, as did any kind of fire at his skin, gut, and chest. With every sway of her body, she shook away the awkwardness that'd been dividing them so far, and it was like she shook away the whole world around them with just the same ease.
One minute or one hour passed, he couldn't be sure, lost in the lullaby that she was singing with her movement. "Hey, guys." That voice was so familiar, but it took him some more words from the intruder's mouth to make out it was Erasa speaking. He didn't even notice he'd closed his eyes until he had to open them, fighting the magnetic field that had been produced between him and Videl when she showed intent to back away from him. It took them a few seconds before they managed to disconnect completely, and his hand on her back hesitated to follow through for a little while longer still, only doing so in the end when his brain woke up and told him it was over.
Over…
"... a long day," Videl was saying, and then turned around to face him, a delicate hand on his chest barely allowing him to make out the rest of her words. "How about you?"
"Huh…" What was the question again?
Videl smiled gently. "Are you heading out too?"
Oh… she was leaving. She looked really tired, so it was for the best. "I want to wait until Bulma leaves," he told her. "I'll take you home and then come back for another hour or so." Hopefully not too much longer, considering how exhausted he was feeling right now, but he didn't want Bulma to be alone with all these tasteless men harassing her - it happened more often than not in such events. He didn't know how she was supposed to get home, but he'd bet she'd arranged for a driver to come pick her up, or was planning on calling a taxi, so he'd at least wait for either one of those. She might drink like a sailor, but was responsible enough not to get behind the wheel in such occasions, so those were the most likely outcomes.
"Gohan, you don't need to take me home," she told him, her sweet smile not dimming even a fraction. "I'll just go with them." She pointed back at their friends. "Sharpner's going too, right?"
"Right," his roommate agreed, flashing a tired smile of his own. "Don't worry, G. They'll be in good hands."
It wasn't like he shot the idea dead immediately, but he couldn't resist the instinct that pressed a frown on his face. It would be insincere of him to deny his protectiveness of Videl, but after what'd happened with Rick, he just wanted to be there for her in case anything happens. He needed to be there. Sharp was a big guy, though, a martial arts enthusiast and a fighter himself, even though hockey was his sport. A really hard sport, as it turned out, evidenced by all the matches Gohan and the girls had attended in support for their friend. If needed, Sharp would surely kick some major ass. "But you'll go all the way to their home, right?" he asked the blond just to be sure. "You won't go as far as our room and let them walk the rest of the way. It's very late."
"I'm hurt, G. You know me better," his roommate said, a hand at his chest to mock hurt.
Gohan smiled at the gesture. Such a drama queen. "Well, then... okay, Honey-bunny."
Sharpner turned tomato-red but played along anyway, laughing cheerfully with the rest of them all the way out to the main lobby and coat check area where the guys helped the respective girls put on their coats. The blonds said their respective goodbyes to Gohan and were walking towards the door when Videl said, "You guys go on ahead. I'll be right there." With a nod and a smile, they complied.
She turned back to Gohan then, her blue eyes shining so brightly he had to blink a couple of times more than usual. "Thank you for making me your plus one tonight" she told him, so softly it felt like a caress instead of actual words.
"You're w-welcome." How great… stuttering and his voice was cracking. Keep it together!
Videl giggled, so sweetly it made him forget any type of embarrassment from what'd happened. And then, a small step brought her closer to him, the wonderful warmth of her hand enveloping his cheek, his jaw. There she was, casting her spell on him once again; how did she do it, and did she know it made him want to give her the world?
She was so close he could hear her heart beat in the form of the most beautiful music, one that energized and petrified him at the same time. And still she came closer, her breath hot and delicious against his parted mouth, unable to think but still knowing it wanted another taste, another chance at touching her in that way. In one fluid, doubtless motion, she got him his wish, her lips brushing delicately against his, and then pressing a little more, a little stronger. His lips barely dared to move around hers, his lungs stopping completely, barely daring a breeze that could disturb the mirage in front of him. His eyes closed, because they should be closed when one's dreaming, and he simply drank from it, quenching a thirst he didn't know had been killing him all this time.
It lasted for a couple of seconds, but it felt like a fraction and a million at the same time. Their lips parted minimally yet too damn much, though their noses were still touching, rubbing against each other really softly as he lazily opened his eyes again. A breathy whisper left her, making him shiver with its deep, low tone. "Merry Christmas." He swore he could really taste it this time, sweet and spicy and amazing. Her warmth was replaced by a ghastly cold when she left into the night.
His eyes shut again when the door closed behind her figure, trying desperately to regain the feeling but knowing it could never be recreated without her. Damn mistletoe... As if it wasn't hard enough to spend the whole night next to Videl, his body acting weird, his mind mocking him with emotions he couldn't place but still felt so intensely, the damn plant had to add insult to injury and keep imposing itself on them. A deep, tired, troubled breath, and he looked up, committed to death-glaring the shit out of the taunting shrub and torturing it with his gaze as a warning to all the other ones. There was one problem with his plan though...
There weren't any.
The enormous ceiling was completely bare, no nearby walls or archways of any kind. He even looked further around, trying to search for one single specimen in the whole room, since all the logic in him was desperate to prove that Videl had simply allowed a wider margin of error for the plant's position. There wasn't any. Any mistletoe. There wasn't any.
She had actually... kissed him.
Holy shit…
Bulma let out a deep sigh, tiredness finally getting to her as she looked at the caramel liquid swirling inside her short glass. Valiantly, she'd give it another half an hour or so, and then she was out of here. One could only deal with so much brown-nosing and subtle romantic - so as not to call them plain sexual - innuendos for one night.
Gohan had left the ballroom almost twenty minutes ago, so she was assuming he'd gone home with his friends when she'd spotted him leaving, though it seemed weird he hadn't even said goodbye to her. Maybe he'd forgotten; kids' heads were sure to skyrocket to the clouds whenever they were with their friends, if her boy and Goten were any indication. But Gohan wasn't a kid, and hardly did he ever forget anything, let alone something regarding his family. It all escaped her mind when he walked back in through the double doors.
Her arms shot up, waving for him, and a wide smile erupted in her face when he acknowledged her and walked her way. "Hey, there, Stranger," she spoke as he reached the bar. Gohan plopped down unceremoniously on the high stool to her right, taking a breath so deep she thought he'd burst his lungs. "Rough night, huh?" Bulma continued to ask before a sip at her drink. He didn't respond, only microscopically nodding through a distant expression. "What's your poison?"
"Huh?"
"Oh, come on." A sly grin charged up her words for the impending tease. "That roommate of yours doesn't seem like the kind of guy to have let a week go by without introducing you to at least a beer, let alone all these months you've been hanging around him." Gohan's answer was a lazy snort and a smile, so she knew her hypothesis was spot on. "I promise I won't tell your mother," she added, deepening her expression into a daring smirk.
The bartender came to stand in front of them, waiting for his order. Gohan looked over to Bulma's hand, and then told the man, "I'll have whatever she's having."
"Whoa, are you sure about that?" Bulma interjected immediately. "This is scotch, not some prissy girly drink, ya know?"
"Is it strong?" the young man asked, shifting his stare between her face and the glass in her hand.
She chuckled. "Yeah. Pretty much."
He returned his gaze to the bartender. "One of those, please."
All she could do was stare at him, lips parted, no words, even though he was staring at the shelves and bottles in front of him instead, just behind the spot the bartender had left vacant while going for his order. "Shit, Gohan... That rough?"
At that, he crossed his arms on top of the counter and buried his head into them. She could almost feel the pounding inside his skull, the urge for his mind to rationalize things like he always would, but unable to from amongst the exhaustion so explicit in his face. What kind of a mess was going on in there…?
The bartender returned quickly and placed his drink on the counter, the soft click of glass against wood making Gohan sit up again, although completely hunched over. In an instant, he was grabbing the scotch and taking it to his lips, not allowing a single second to sniff it out and test the waters. As expected, he regretted it instantly. "Fuck! What the hell is this?"
Bulma muffled a chuckle. He was so precious when he cursed. "I told ya, it's scotch."
His mouth was wide open, a deep frown contracting his face like he couldn't even believe such a hellish liquid actually existed within the world. "And you can drink this whole thing?"
She snorted. "I better! It's twenty fucking zeni a glass."
"Shut up," he stated dryly, staring incredulous her.
"I kid you not." It was an acquired taste, granted, but it was probably that much easily acquired when one already drank plenty before, not quite so much for a liqueur virgin such as Gohan - beers didn't even count, of course; she was talking about the big league.
It was clear that many things had changed ever since he'd came to college, and Bulma was no less than elated about each and every one of them, alcohol consumption included. It would impair his overthinking and make him relax for a change, not to mention make him let loose and embrace new people and experiences. Hopefully; it was her main dream for him.
And hopefully it wouldn't all come back to bite him on the ass, considering…
She sighed as mutely as she could. Of all the girls in the world… Videl Satan.
"What is it?" Gohan asked her.
"What?"
"I know that face, Bulma."
"What face?" The naive card was never one she liked to play, but this time it was stronger than her. The whole night this issue had been haunting her, argument after logical argument ultimately not enough to reach a decision on how to approach the subject, if at all. Should she meddle? Should she just tell him or let him find out for himself? Because she was sure that, with the way he acted so relaxed around the young woman, he had absolutely no idea who her father was.
"That one," Gohan said, pointing her way with his chin. Then he paused, waiting for answers and shaking his head when she was unable to give them. "Don't even... Just spit it out."
Gohan knew her just as well as Bulma knew him, so he wouldn't be fooled - not that he'd be with anyone else either, considering that gift of his to always have a clue of what other people were thinking. Bulma anchored her eyes on her drink, swirling it around in the crystalline glass while making up her mind. It probably wasn't the best time for this, but... he should know. It was in no way an attempt to balance his relationship with Videl in any direction whatsoever, that future entirely on both teens' hands and none other's, but friendly advice should always be welcome, right? "You don't know her last name," she told him grimly.
"Huh?"
"Videl," Bulma specified. "You don't know her last name."
Gohan was clearly surprised, his face contracting right after in thought and in access of his memories. He could search his brain all he wanted, but she was sure he didn't know that piece of information. No way. Were the girl's father anyone else, maybe, but not that obnoxious man, the Saviour of the Earth. "Should I?" he asked.
"Yes, you should."
His confused frown turned suspicious. "Why?"
"Because… it's important."
"How come? I mean... I don't really care what it is."
"You may not care but... you still have to know." That one surprised him even more than the whole subject of their conversation, some sort of alarm and anticipation tracing a deep curve along his eyebrows. It wasn't her business to meddle - even though she was a nosy parker at heart - but this wasn't exactly meddling, she told herself. It was providing insight so as to allow him an educated decision about where to take his own future. What would be of a scientist without the data from the scientists that'd came before them? With that thought in mind, Bulma said, as slowly and as solemnly as she could, "Her name is Videl... Satan."
It took him a couple of seconds, but there was only one other person he knew with that name, surely. His eyes left their lock on Bulmas', anchoring themselves on a random spot among the shelves in front of them. "Satan," he repeated in a whisper.
Bulma nodded. "She's Mr. Satan's daughter."
If it wasn't for the small movements coming from his chest and a random blink from time to time, she could swear he'd gone Han Solo on her, frozen in carbonite. She kept quiet, trying to understand what was going on through his head, but coming to the conclusion that it was probably nothing at all. With the way he looked so beat, his body so spent, his eyes so drained of energy, surely his mind was completely shut down as well. One minute, two, three, and still nothing but his shallow breaths. And then out of nowhere, in a whisper he said, "It doesn't matter."
The suddenty surprised her. "Huh?"
"I'm her friend, not his. I couldn't care less about him," Gohan stated. He didn't put an ounce of disgust or anger into his words, even though she knew fully well they were somewhere within him. There was no envy for the man or what he'd gotten out of another's deeds - Gohan's deeds, his father's deeds, and all of the others' - since anyone that truly knew the young Saiyan would tell you how incredibly little he cared about recognition, fame, fortune.
But there was that one thing.
It annoyed everyone within their circle, but Gohan more than any other. That dweeb Mr. Satan had basically been on a quest to rid the world of the concept of Ki ever since the Cell Games, going way past his own opinion on the matter - which he would be more than entitled to, obviously - into the realm of just plain arrogance and scorn towards anyone who'd stand by it. It troubled Gohan much less than it did everybody else that he had been the one making the man a public figure, but it was Gohan who'd suffered the most with the way the prick had chosen to use that power.
Ultimately, though, Bulma had to agree; it didn't really matter. The girl was nothing like her father, thank the heavens. Tonight had showed her what Videl was really all about, and it warmed her heart that Gohan had such a person in his life, so there was no way Bulma could attach her father's actions seven years ago with the young woman she was today. Videl was just a child, back then, just like Gohan and yet nothing like him.
Videl's last name wouldn't have mattered... but not with the way Gohan had looked at her.
He'd sat across from Videl during dinner, Bulma right beside her, placed perfectly so as to see the way he looked at his friend whenever she would talk. Really look at her, through his eyes but not just with them. He'd try to focus on her face, but then his eyes would start to wander, to her lips and her neck. Her shoulders. And her cleavage - he was a man, after all - such a refreshing action that'd made her grin like an idiot the first time she'd caught him doing it, miles away from the ghost she had become accustomed to all these years. He would stare at her breasts for as long as he felt he could get away with, and then looked back up or away entirely. All in all, his eyes had a new shine to them now, one she'd never seen before - not in him, at least.
Videl was starting to matter, and that meant... tons. "Do you like her?" Bulma asked softly, quietly.
"Of course," he responded immediately. "She's my best friend."
"That's not what I asked." He could try all he wanted to play dumb, but it wouldn't work on her. Forget his near-paranormal gift of reading people like books, he was as much of a genius as herself, so she was sure he could read the fine print within her words. She repeated, emphasizing the crucial word, "Do you like her?"
There was no answer. Bulma knew better than most how his social skills had been those of a toddler when he'd first came to college - one in the long list of the reasons that'd made her fight so hard for him to enroll in the first place - but that had changed now. These few months had given him some experience on the matter, surely, and adding to that the Hollywoodesque renderings of romance from the many movies she knew he'd seen during his teen years - a way to forget life for a while, he'd told her once - there was no way he was naive enough not to understand what was happening, not to see the signs.
Clearly there was attraction there. Clearly there were a whole lot of feelings hovering around between them, some chaste and sweet while others much deeper and meaningful. And if it was all so clear for her, there should be at least a small hint triggering in his brain, telling him that those emotions weren't of normal friendship. Just a tiny tug at his heart that told him there was something else there, even if he wasn't sure what that "something" was at this very moment.
"I don't know," he eventually said.
She tried not to smile, given that he looked so miserable saying those words, but there was still a warm feeling curving her lips at the confession. "That's not a 'no'."
He took a slow, heavy breath, still looking ahead towards nothing in particular. "No. No, it isn't."
And that did it, a big smile unable to stay put and blooming in full at those words. After Goku had died, after all the damage that day had inflicted on Gohan in such an internal, deep way, all dreams of him having a normal life like the rest of the kids his age had flown out the window. How in the world would a heart so broken find room for anything else ever again? And yet… here it was, torturing him in this way that shouldn't be making her so elated and so ready to cry her eyes out. There were feelings in there. Actual raw emotions gnawing at him and tormenting his mind with their implications.
Like normal, human eighteen-year-olds.
"Can I come over? To your place?" Gohan asked then, almost whispering.
"Of course. You know you're more than welcome to, even if I'm out." A lonesome little tear fled from her eyes. One hand wiped it clean, while the other reached for his back, rubbing it in comfort. "Are you okay?"
"I need... I need the GR."
Leaning over, she kissed his shoulder. "Sure, Honey. For as long as you need."
Ooooooooo, their first 'real' kiss! OMG! :D
- READ THIS! IT'S IMPORTANT! -
Ok, now that I have your attention, here's the deal. :D
Mabel91, showed some interest in having Gohan relieving Rick of some of his prickness with a well placed fist to somewhere hurtful, and so, even if I'm not sure if and how it will fit into the story, I enjoyed knowing his/hers opinion regarding the future of the story.
SO...
Since I still haven't come up with a way to kick Rick out of Gohan and Videl's lives, I've decided on taking the democratic way and listen to your opinions, what do you say? Do you have any idea on how you would like it to happen? I'm not sure if I want Gohan punching Rick simply because he's very determined on not using violence, unless it's a 'last resort' thing, BUT if you guys tell me "Hey, we would really, really, really, like to see the cocky bastard take one right in the face!" then, my dear readers, I'll work my magic. :D
Any other ideas? Make it rain!