Dragon Ball SS: Chapter 7

Chapter 7

 

Everyone looked up as Pan suddenly appeared at the window, hanging upside down. “Knock knock!” she called, then climbed into the room.

 

“Not through the window...” Chichi moaned.

 

“Mom, not now,” Gohan said quickly. He stood up just as Pan dove across the room and wrapped her arms around his neck.

 

“Daddy!” she cried. “You should have come with! We had such a great time!”

 

Gohan smiled gently and carefully lowered her to the floor. “I'm glad you enjoyed yourself,” he said, “but...” He eyed up his daughter's attire. “What are you wearing?”

 

“It's my new bikini!” Pan said gleefully. She pirouetted to show off the glistening, metallic bikini top patterned with a dragon's face and forelegs. “Mom had a fit, of course...but I bought it with my own money, because it's so cool. The bottom matches, see?” She grabbed the belt loops on her jeans and tugged them down off of her buttocks to show the bikini bottom, which was graced across the back with the dragon's tail.

 

Gohan palmed his face, and when he moved his hand, the internal struggle was readily apparent on his features. Finally, he sighed. “That's...great, Pan,” he said. “I'm sure everyone here wanted to see that. How about pulling up your jeans, now?”

 

His sarcasm was lost on Pan, who'd already lost interest. She absently tugged her jeans back into place as she looked around the room. She spotted Bra sitting on Goten's lap next to Trunks and squealed with delight. “Cute!”

 

Gohan started to reach for her arm, but she was already bounding across the room. She hopped onto Trunks's lap and slung her arm around his neck in a reflection of Bra's situation. “Look, bookends!” she said.

 

Trunks blushed red to the roots of his hair and squirmed uncomfortably underneath her. “Er...Pan...” he began. His hands hovered uncertainly between wanting to steady her in one place and wanting to anchor themselves to the sofa cushions, and he forced himself to look away from her nearly-bare back, which was only inches from his face.

 

Bra giggled at his discomfort. She leaned over and pulled Pan toward her to whisper in her ear. Pan suddenly grinned broadly and whispered back. The exchange went back and forth for a moment before Pan's eyes suddenly widened.

 

“That's right!” she exclaimed. “You couldn't see the front part, could you? Trunks, help me get these jeans off.”

 

“NO!”

 

The volume of the exclamation startled the teenage girls, who sat upright and looked around in surprise. The adults in the room quickly looked at each other, as they realized they'd all spoken the same thing at the same time, then back at the four on the sofa. Trunks and Goten exchanged a sickly look that suggested the two of them might die at any moment.

 

“God, you two,” Trunks said, “are you trying to get us killed?”

 

“Of course not, Dummy,” Pan said. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his face into her chest, which sent Trunks into another fit of red-faced squirming. “You're the cutest boy I know; all of the other boys I've met are dorks.”

 

“That's right!” Bra said. She turned her face to smile at Goten. “As soon as you stepped into the shower, I knew no other boy could compete with yphymph!” Bra's statement was cut off as Goten quickly covered her mouth with his hands.

 

“Daddy doesn't want to hear it, Bra,” Goten said quickly through nervously-clenched teeth. He moved one trembling hand away from her mouth to rub anxiously on the back of his neck.

 

“I want to hear it!” Pan piped up. She grabbed Bra's hand. “Come on, give me the details!” She pulled Bra with her as she leaped over the boys and the back of the sofa. The two of them quickly settled themselves behind the screen of the piece of furniture and resumed whispering. In between bouts of whispers, they giggled hysterically.

 

Goten turned red and slumped forward. “Vegeta-san...kill me now, please,” he begged.

 

Vegeta smirked. “What is that saying? 'You made your bed, now lie in it'? It's quite fitting, in this instance, I think.”

 

Goten groaned and covered his face with his hands.

 

“Still,” Vegeta continued, “this behavior is obnoxious, even for them. My daughter may be spoiled, but she can usually be reasoned with.”

 

Gohan rubbed his forehead. “Pan was never this obtuse in flaunting herself, even when her friends at school started in on it,” he said. “She was still wearing a gi to school when her friends were wearing miniskirts. I can only wonder if it's linked to seeking a partner.”

 

“I never really knew any Saiyan women,” Vegeta admitted. “Even seeing them in passing was a rare event for me, as I spent most of my time learning royal duties and campaigning with my father. I was five years old when I was taken away by Freeza, and not the least bit interested in women.”

 

“Well, there doesn't seem to be any other explanation,” Bulma began.

 

“And we already know that your condition causes Saiyans to do things they normally wouldn't,” Piccolo continued. He stepped into the room and surveyed the group gathered there, then folded his arms across his chest.

 

The giggling behind the sofa stopped, and attention turned back to the two girls. Goten and Trunks twisted around in their seats and discovered Pan and Bra peeking over the back of the sofa at Piccolo, regarding the Namekian through narrowed eyes.

 

“Hey, what gives?” Trunks asked. “It's just Piccolo.”

 

“Why is he here?” Pan asked. Her voice was lowered to barely above a hiss, and her eyes narrowed further as she eyed up Piccolo.

 

“Pan, he's just here to join our discussion,” Gohan said. A note of surprise tinged his voice and he tilted his head to look at his daughter with concern. “What are you upset about?”

 

“I'm obviously perceived as a threat by them, somehow,” Piccolo said. He started to walk toward the sofa.

 

Pan and Bra suddenly leaped up from where they were crouched and wrapped their arms around Trunks and Goten's shoulders.

 

“Back off,” Bra said. A low growl in her throat accompanied the statement, and she leaned possessively over Goten.

 

Pan mirrored the motion with Trunks, and raised her hand warningly, as though about to fire a blast of ki at Piccolo.

 

Vegeta and Gohan stood up at the same time; Goku and the others followed suit, and they watched anxiously as Piccolo halted where he was to assess the situation.

 

Gohan rubbed his forehead again; the throbbing in his head was not lessening as the tension in the room escalated. “Pan, this is ridiculous,” he said. “Use some common sense.”

 

“I expect common sense is beyond them, at this point,” Vegeta said in reply. He watched the two girls, who had not backed down from their stance, and the two young men, who were eying them nervously from within their controlling grasp.

 

The tension was suddenly broken as Bulma appeared from a side door, carrying a cardboard box. No one had noticed her slip out during the confrontation, and she surprised them again when she took long, flexible ice packs out of the box and tossed them over Bra's and Pan's shoulders. She tossed another pair onto Goten's and Trunks's shoulders as well.

 

“It's a good thing I put these in the freezer last night before we went to bed,” she said. “I had a feeling that we were going to need them. The morning's barely started and the kids have already lost it.” She tossed one each to Gohan, Goku and Vegeta as well. “Let's try to stay ahead our problems today, rather than behind them, shall we?”

 

“Ah, thank you, Bulma-san,” Gohan said gratefully. He quickly pressed the ice pack to his forehead, then sat back down and closed his eyes for a moment.

 

Piccolo turned his back to the two couples on the sofa and walked back so that he was across the room from them once again. “The temperature is only going to increase as the day goes on, and that ice won't last at that point,” he said. “Have any of you considered a way of keeping yourselves in check? If those girls had gone over the edge with someone weaker, there could have been bloodshed.”

 

The others resumed their seats as well. “I know a couple of neuro-specialists who may be able to help us,” Bulma began, “but if the situation will resolve itself soon, I would rather not involve more people than necessary. It was hard enough explaining to the doctors about Trunks's and Bra's tails when they were born, and again when we had them removed.”

 

“Which I still say I should have done myself,” Vegeta retorted. “I have no desire to be some human doctor's guinea pig and be poked and prodded with their needles while they try to figure out what makes a Saiyan tick.”

 

At the mention of needles, Goku suddenly went pale. “We don't need n-needles to fix this, do we?” he asked anxiously.

 

“How long will this last, Vegeta?” Piccolo demanded.

 

“As long as it takes,” Vegeta replied snidely. “It's entirely biological; we have no more control over it than you have over the fact that your skin is green. The weather, and whether or not any of us have a child, will be the determining factors.”

 

“Perhaps the dragon balls-” Bulma began.

 

Piccolo was already shaking his head. “I seem to recall the dragon balls being used not two months ago to restore Uub's village and all of the villagers who were killed, after it was destroyed by a hurricane,” he said pointedly. “The balls are inert.”

 

Bulma's face fell. “Oh, right,” she said. She sighed. “Well, in the long run, they needed it more than we do.”

 

“Well, perhaps Videl will have some suggestions,” Gohan said suddenly. His gaze wandered vaguely toward the window as he spoke. “She's just about here; I can feel her ki nearby.”