Enough Time | By : sefiru Category: Dragon Ball Z > Het - Male/Female Views: 2186 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own DragonballZ, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Enough Time
By Sefiru
***
Pairings: Mirai x OC
Warnings: R, violence, character deaths, angst
Disclaimer: I don’t own Dragonball,
but Mirai ownz at
everything.
Pun_xy: Chichi and Mr. Satan’s
idiocy has been kind of a driving theme in this story. ^^;
kit-kit: You’ll get to see the result of Kakarott’s response in this chapter.
Well, here we are at the last chapter of this little
character piece. Not too long on the plot, but hey. It was fun. And not to
worry, I’m still writing Pure Evil, as well as some other stuff in this and
other fandoms. Read on!
***
Chapter 17: finale
***
The invitation
wasn’t anything unusual; over the last couple of years Mirai
had gotten used to family parties being called at the drop of a hat. But he
wasn’t expecting Kakarott to say, “Why don’t you bring your girl with you this
time? I’d like to meet her.”
Mirai just nodded, but Shiso’s
reaction when he told her was more dramatic. “You want me to meet the king? And
have dinner with him? Me?”
“Yes, you. Besides, you already met him at Pan’s birthday.”
“Not to talk to,
and – he’s the fricking king!”
“So? You knew who
my family was when you started chasing me, right?” Mirai
could tell she really did want to go, she was just nervous about the idea.
Well, in the time of Gramps’s stuffed-shirt
upper-crust nose-in-the-air court, she would have had reason to be. Things had
loosened up a lot since Kakarott became king.
The next issue
was what to wear. Shiso was bound and determined to
make a good impression, and he had to remind her several times that Kakarott
usually dressed in a bright orange gi. Fashion sense
was not one of his strong points. Shiso eventually
decided on leather shorts, a halter top and boots. She asked how she looked and
then said, “I’ll take your drool as a good.”
Mirai wiped his mouth and picked up the watermelons that
were their contribution to the picnic. Shiso
chattered brightly as they flew to Kakarott’s house, but he could tell she was
still nervous because her tail kept curling around her waist, and her ki was spiking to life-or-death-combat levels. They landed
at the picnic field early, before most of the family arrived; Kakarott was bent
over the fire pit raking the coals with a trowel, while the tarp-wrapped main
course lay ready beside him. He looked over at them and spun out a tendril of ki to Mirai.
< I’ll give
her a while to settle down, and then I’ll call you over. Not that I’d mind a
spar with her. >
< Hands off, king. >
< Ha. You know I don’t swing that way. >
Bardock was
carting around cases of drinks, a bartender’s wreath on his head, and Vegeta
was setting out furniture. Or at least he was supposed to be; at the moment he
was balancing a picnic table on his index finger by one corner. Goten and Trunks were playing tag in the lake. And Chichi
sat nervously in a wicker chair off to one side.
“What’s she doing
here?” Shiso said.
“Penance.” Kakarott’s response toChichi’s
escapade with Pan had been … original. Rather than shutting Chichi out of his
life or forbidding her to see her granddaughter, he had insisted that she
attend these family gatherings whenever possible. And anyone who looked at her
face could see that it wasn’t an exercise of mercy on Kakarott’s part. Other
guests were arriving: the Briefs family, Vegeta-jii
in his golf outfit, a handful of Z fighters, Mrs. Satan with Videl, Pan and Gohan, Piccolo.
Just about everyone, really. Mirai didn’t miss the
way Shiso’s hands tensed defensively. “Mirai, your father’s staring at me.”
“He hasn’t tried
to set you on fire yet, that’s a good sign.” Still, he led her over to a big
tree where she could have something at her back. The defensive position, plus
the smells of food and cheerful voices, helped her calm down. He’d had to do
the same thing at his first few barbecues.
An argument broke
out over by the drink stash, which Bardock had constructed by filling a rowboat
with ice and bottles. Gramps was glaring at him purple-faced. “Do you expect me
to drink this swill?”
“Nah. If you don’t like it you can try water. Or warm milk.”
“I demand a refreshment suitable to my station!”
“Are you sure,
old man? Considering your new career in sewage management.”
Gramps spluttered, and Bardock leaned back on the rowboat bench. “Plain old
beer is good enough for the King, so what’s your problem?” Gramps took a bottle
and stomped off in a huff. Mirai flipped him off
behind his back. A bit later Kakarott seemed to notice them standing by the
tree – Mirai wasn’t stupid enough to think he hadn’t
been watching them the whole time. “Mirai, come
here,” he called. Shiso looked ready to faint, run or
commit homicide, but Mirai pulled her along by the
elbow.
“Hello, sir. I’d
like you to meet my mate, Shiso.”
Kakarott lit up
with his trademark grin. “It’s a pleasure, Shiso.
Welcome to the family.”
“It’s an honor,
uh, sir.” She fairly radiated confused, and Mirai
could guess what she was thinking. It couldn’t possibly be that easy, could it?
He remembered having a few moments of that himself. Kakarott gave him an amused
look and aimed a purr at both of them.
“You’ll be fine.
Hang on and I’ll cut you some steaks.” As he stuck a fork in the roasting
carcass, Vegeta strolled over to examine them.
“Nice melons.” Shiso’s brows lowered … until she realized he meant the
watermelons, which she was carrying. She lobbed them at his head.
“That’s the
closest you’ll ever get to my melons, creep.”
“You’ll do,
girl,” he announced, and caught them. “Settling down already, boy? You make me
feel old.”
“You, old? Pull the other one, dad.”
“Yeah, if you’re
old, what does that make me?” Kakarott added.
“The fountain of youth.” Vegeta started nibbling on his
mate’s shoulder. Mirai and Shiso
took their meals back to the tree to eat; now that she had gotten through
meeting the King alive, Shiso was much more relaxed.
As they ate, Mirai looked over the gathering.
Two years ago,
by his internal clock, he’d had nothing. Now – he had his family, a mate of his
own, and a place to call home. Things had turned out – dare he say it – pretty
darn well.
Shiso elbowed him. “You’re quiet this evening.”
“Hn.” He smirked at her. “I know a
nice cliff. Wanna go climb it?”
“Sure.”
***
Fin, for now, and for this story. As to sequels: Magic 8
Ball says, prospects uncertain, ask again later. I have so many projects
rolling around my head that I have no idea which one is going to pop out next.
Please stay tuned.
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