Bad

B5


Johnson
Johnson
17
614
2002-07-10T04:10:00Z
2002-08-31T12:03:00Z
7
2989
17041
142
34
20927
9.4402







Disclaimer:  I don’t own ‘em, nope not at all. 
Tre nre not mine. DBZ/DBGT and any possible songs or cartoons or T.V. shows
that I might decide to add to spice things up are in no way, shape, or form
whatsoever mine.  Right now The Offspring’s ‘I Want You Bad’ is fueling my
creative juices but, like I said, it’s not mine…damn. 

Special thanks to Gokusgirl and ~R, this chapter would
still be in the “brainstorming” phase without your emails. 

 BAD
Chapter 5 - His Perspective


“So man, how long have you been banging my
sister?” My fri friend asked cocking a
lavender eyebrow directly at me. I felt
my features suddenly blanche as I cleared my throat in preparation to speak my
honorable intentions toward his much younger, drop dead gorgeous sister. This was definitely not the scenario I had
planned. The silence was broken by the
familiar hearty chuckle, escaping from Trunks’ pursed lips as he slapped me
none to gently on the back.

 

“I’m just messing with you,” he laughed, “But you should’ve
seen the look on your face, you look like the cat that swallowed the canary. If I hadn’t known any better…I tell
you. So, anyways, have those rugrats
been giving you hell at the office today?”

 

“Actually, I stayed home today. I had some use or lose days to cash in on,” I snickered, sucker
punching him in the breadbasket.

 

“Ow!” he winced, protectively clutching his side. Seeing my puzzled expression, he confessed,
“Dad kicked my ass this morning. Worse
than usual, I think it had something to do with B-chan.”

 

“Speaking of B, I wanted to talk with you about her,” I
timidly began, not really wanting to have this conversation with him just yet,
but I promised B I would, and a promise is a promise.

 

“What? She’s been
kicking your ass again; you really should train more often than once a
month. You’re losing your edge, old
man.” He jested as we walked down the
hallway leading to the front door.

 

“Well,” I started, scratching the back of my head wondering
where do I begin. I had been mentally
rehearsing this conversation in my mind all day, but now the words seemed to
fail me, trapped in my mouth, unable to leave.

 

“It’s okay, I assumed as much. There’s no shame in having your ass kicked from here to B.F.E.*
and back…twice by my much younger, much smaller, baby sister. You know, she’s been training every morning
with father since she was a chibi in pig tails,” Trunks informed me in a smooth
matter of fact tone.

 

“You’re one to talk,” I countered, jabbing my index finger
into his sore ribs.

 

“Asshole!” He gritted, glaring icy blue daggers of death at
me.

 

“Man, Trunks, you’re my best turd, I wouldn’t shit you for
the world,” I joked, reaching into the back pocket of my loose denim jeans for
my wallet. I fumbled through its
compartment searching for one of the few spare emergency senzu that I always
kept there and tossed it to him.

 

“What’s got you all smiles and sunshine today, Goten?” my
best friend inquired, thankfully accepting my senzu peace offering and popping
the bitter bean into his mouth.

 

“I was hoping we could go somewhere to discuss the reason
for my…how did you put it, ‘smiles and sunshiny-ness’,” I told Trunks, meeting
his crystalline gaze, hoping he could read the seriousness in my face.

 

“We can talk once we get there,” he reached for the front
door, opening it.

 

“Alright, but where’s there?” I asked walking around to the passenger side of the shiny black,
modified for racing, Viper capsule car.

 

“You talk too much, just sit back and ride.”

 

“Trunks, where’s there,” I impatiently asked for the second
time.

 

“There. There is
where your surprise awaits you,” he deviously smirked.

 

“So, you’re not going to tell me?” I asked one more time,
knowing he wouldn’t, but asking nonetheless.
Trunks Briefs was set in his underhanded scheming ways, always the
undercover jokester extraordinaire. I
wonder what’s up your sleeve tonight, my friend? If it’s anything similar to any of your other surprises/gifts,
then I hope to Kami it involves nothing of the sort.

 

“Am I that transparent.” He asked turning the ignition and
cranking up the volume on his Puddle of Mudd CD, my cue to shut up and ride.

 

*~*~*~*~*~

 

“So this is your surprise?”
I asked, looking around the familiar walls and open stage of our
favorite hangout Sandy’s indoor/outdoor club, from a table adjacent to the
dance floor.

 

“No, but we have about half an hour until it gets here. So, what did you want to talk about?”

 

“Where should I start,” I thought aloud, taking a large
swallow of my apple martini. “It’s
about Bra actually.” I began, “She and
I have been se—“

 

Trunks’ attention immediately turned away from me as
feminine café au lait fingers snaked through his meticulously combed lilac
tresses. Burgundy lips invitingly
whispered hushed hellos in the form of delicate kisses on his earlobe. He craned his neck around to properly return
the beauty’s affection, pulling her down into his lap.

&n

Somewhat distracted by Trunks and his flavor of the week, I
was totally unaware that someone had sat in the seat directly besides my own,
until I was jolted back to reality by a hand on my shoulder and the sweet
floral scent of woman’s perfume. I
looked from the hand resting there to the bright jade colored eyes and warm
smile of the woman sitting beside me.
Feeling somewhat bewildered, I looked to Trunks’ mystery woman and her
doppelganger sitting next to me, doing a double take. Twins.

 

“Hi, I’m Tamara,” she spoke tucking a loose chocolate
colored tendril of tightly spiraled curls behind her left ear.

 

“Ya, I’m Goten,” I answered blandly, scooting my chair away
from this mysterious stranger.

 

Trunks chose at that moment to break his tenacious lip lock,
his date sliding into the empty seat besides him. “Surprise,” he said, looking from Tamara to me then back to
Tamara. “I was talking to Tia about you
and how you’ve seemed to fall of the face of Chikyuu so we thought it’d be a
good idea to reintroduce you to the world of the living.” He turned to towards Tia, “You’re here early
Tia.”

 

“You weren’t complaining a minute ago,” his sassy date
commented, receiving a smirk from Trunks.

 

“Oh…Tia – Goten, Goten – Tia, Tamara – Goten, Goten –
Tamara,” Trunks quickly spoke, introducing the identicalns tns to me.

 

“Nice to meet you,” Tia said, reaching her graceful hand
across the table, grasping mine in a firm handshake. “I’ve heard such great things about you.”

 

“Can I get y’all something to drink,” interrupted a petite
underdressed red haired barmaid, a mild country twang lacing through her
speech.

 

“Bring me a Heineken,” called Trunks’ date, Tia.

 

“Give me two double shots of Jim Bean 151 straight up,”
Tamara began, “Hmm, can I get a Flaming Dr. Pepper, too.” Trunks, Goten, Tia all simultaneously turned
to stare in disbelief at Tamara’s odd drink order.

 

“What?” Tamara innocently asked, realizing all eyes were
focused on her. “Do I have a booger on
my face?” she asked, wiping her nose with a napkin lying on the table.

 

“A little thirsty much, sis?” Tia inquired to the exotically
attractive mirror image of herself.

 

“It’s just two shots and a drink, Tia. Don’t get your panties in a bunch!” she
snapped to her sister.

 

“I’m not wearing any,” Tia countered, earning a small
chuckle from Trunks.

 

“Easy access, eh?”

 

“Bitch!” Tia glared from her seat on besides Trunks.

 

“I love you too, Tia,” Tamara sarcastically added, crinkling
her nose and sticking her pierced tongue out at her sister.

 

At this point the barmaid had returned with the drink
order. She set the green long neck
Heineken bottle in front of Tia, then placed the double shots of JB, a third
shot of Jack Daniel’s, followed by a tall amber mug filled to the rim with
draft beer and a pack of matches.

 

“I thought you ordered a Flaming Dr. Pepper,” Tia asked, her
voice betraying no hint whatsoever of malice from their earlier spat.

 

“Ignoramus. Watch
and learn,” Tamara snickered. She dropped
the shot of Jack, shot glass and all, into the chilled mug of beer, while we
gazed on with discombobulated expressions plastered on our faces. She struck one of the matches and slightly
tipped the concoction on its side, setting the snifter afire. She quickly blew out the cocktail, downing
the warm alcoholic beverage and chased it with both double shots of 151. “Tastes just like warm Dr. Pepper,” she
grinned, dabbing thrnerrners of her mouth with a napkin, which was etched with
the club’s logo.

 

“Kami, Tia, you are so ghetto. Do the letters A.A. mean anything to you?” questioned Tia,
looking at her sister in sheer shock.
Though the pair were identical in every way, their personalities were
like night and day.

 

“Quit trying to kill my joy Tia. You really need to
learn to party with your inner bitch, then it’ll be all good,” Tamara laughed,
a warm rose hue touching the apples of her cheeks.

 

“You know what Tamara—“ Tia initiated then was cut short by
her sister.

 

“I’m wicked,” she interrupted nonchalantly, bobbing her neck
in perfect rhythm to club’s music.

 

“Oh please! Can you
just pretend to have some home training?” Tia quipped, ire apparent in her
emerald eyes as they scowled across the table.

 

“Pardon my ass all the way to the home for infinite losers
little Ms. ‘I’m the shiznit because I have an Ivy League education’,” Tamara
retorted, seeming highly amused at her sister’s obvious indignation and
embarrassment.

 

Trunks and I just observed the pair in awe, finding the
argument quite entertaining in the same fashion that men enjoyed watching
bikini clad females wresting in lime jello.

 

Tia began to speak but was cut off as Tamara raised a palm
and turned around in her seat, declaring, “Talk to the hand, ‘cuz the face
won’t hear you.”

 

“Urgh! You’re
impossible,” Tia grated through clenched teeth, and then turned to Trunks,
“C’mon, I want to dance.”

 

“Um, alright,” Trunks sighed, sad to see the show end. He followed his date onto the center dance
floor and the attractive couple began to cut a rug to the live band on stage,
performing popular cover songs of well-known bands.

 

Tamara laughed as her sister left, and then turned to me,
informing me, “Just so you know, I have no intention whatsoever of going home
with you, so don’t even go there. And if
you so much as come into my personal space, I’ll turn you into a eunuch.”

 

I let loose a sigh of relief; relaxing in my seat as I
released a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. “I was just about to tell you the same
thing,” I countered, “except for the whole eunuch part.”

 

“My sister does this to me every other month or so,” she
began.

 

“Does what?” I asked, her comment striking my interest.

 

“Tries to fix me up,” her voice slurring slightly as the
effect of the alcohol touched her speech.

 

“I see.”

 

“She refuses to believe that I have no interest in the
opposite sex. Tia’s always trying to
convert me. I wished she just accept
the fact that I’m a lesbian.”

 

“Oh,” I said, suddenly feeling like her therapist instead of
her very unwilling blind date.

 

“So, what’s your story?
I’m defiantly not picking anything up on my gaydar,” her
inquisitive eyes met mine, trying to figure out my story.

 

“Gaydar?” I laughed.

 

“C’mon,” Tamara asked, elbowing me in my side, “What’s your
story.”

 

“Honestly?”

 

“Naw, unhonestly. Of
course honestly, dummy,” she laughed.

 

“My heart belongs to Bra Briefs, Trunks’ kid sister,” I
admitted; glad to confess my relationship to someone.

 

“Thee Bra Briefs? You’re not talking about that blue
haired hot mamma. Bullshit.”

 

“I bullshit you not.”

 

“Say swear to Kami.’”

 

“I swear to Kami”

 

“You’re not serious.”

 

“I have some seriousness going on here. She’s my girl. I was suppose to tell him tonight about us, but I don’t think I’ll
be able to pry those two from each other,” my eyes fixing themselves on Trunks
and his date.

 

“Right, right. Well,
maybe later. Let him get liquored up
some. He might take it easier that
way. If you promise not to feel all
over my ass, I’ll let you dance with me,” she laughed.

 

“No thanks,” I politely declined, taking another sip of my
apple martini.

 

Refusing to take no for an answer, Tamara grabbed my arm and
her sister’s Heineken, urging me to the dance floor. I was reluctant at first, but I did finally agree to join her.

 

“C’mon, G-Man. No
parking on the dance floor.” She laughed, dancing a foot or so in front of me.

 

“What?” I asked, her obscure lingo puzzling me.

 

“dance already, silly.” Tamara explained.

 

I shook my head, thinking if you can’t beat ‘em join
‘em. I kept one eye locked on Trunks’
lavender head. Tamara and I had barely
been on the dance floor a three full minutes when some drunken yuppie stumbled into
her, sending her careening into my chest.
Tamara spilt what was left of her sister’s beer all over the front my
polo shirt. The bottle fell to the
floor shattering into a hundred small shards.


 

“Clumsy idiot box!” she snapped at the person who pushed
her.

 

“Are you alright?” I asked.


 

She pulled her face away from the crook of my neck, mumbling
a quick, “I’m good.” Then quickly spun around to see the maladroit yuppie drunk
that had inadvertently pushed her into my arms.

 

“I’m sawry puurrdy laady,” he slurred. “Diddit mean to doo dat. Jus’ pud umm git yourselfs nother dink on
me,” he said pushing a fifty zeni bill into her hand. She snatched the bill from him and turned back to me.

 

“Maybe I should let some more of these corporate farts run
me over. We could make a killing, “ she
jested. “Whew, this is almost enough to
get my buzz on with. I’m fixing to get
another drink, what’ll you hav—“ her
expression went blank as she reached her hand out to the collar of my shirt. “Oh, I’m sorry, I put Crimson L’amore all
over your shirt.”

 

“Crimson L’amore?” I asked.

 

“My red lipstick.
Clumsy bastard, I’m sorry,” she scowled at the drunk making his way into
the men’s room.

 

“Don’t worry about.”

 

“You sure?” she asked, guilt quickly flashing through her
bright eyes.

 

She did a little boogie-shimmy number as she danced her way
across the crowded towards the bar.
“Hey Goten!” she hollered at me, her voice practically lost in the music
emanating from the speakers. “Get over
here!” I followed Tamara to the bar,
sitting on an empty stool beside her.
“Hey,” she began; smiling at me with the hokigringrin I’ve ever seen in
my life.

 

“Huh?” I asked, subconsciously reaching my hand up to
scratch the back of my head.

 

“You don’t mind if I call it a night, eh? I told my girlfriend I’d come over as soon
as I could ditch who ever my sister tried to set me up with this time
‘round. The so tha that I can get over
there the better, if you know what I mean,” Tamara explained, winking at me and
elbowing me in the side for good measure.

 

“Fine by me. I don’t
think Trunks has any plans to finish our chat any time soon.”

 

“I’m a little faded,” she giggled. “Can you drive me home?
Friends don’t let friends drive drunk, right?”

 

“Alright,” I agreed as she tossed me the capsule to her
vehicle. She started walking towards
the exit, “Hey Tamara, you want to let them know we’re leaving?”

 

Without skipping a beat she continued towards the exit and
shouted a loud, “Nope,” over her shoulder.

 

~*~*~*~*

 

I flew the small red capsule coupe air car away from Sandy’s
Club. “Hey G-Man, can you just drop me
off at my girl’s house, it’s closer and I’m going to end up there anyways?”

 

“Sure,” I answered.
The directions she gave were easy enough to follow. Tamara’s lady friend ending up living not to
far from Bra’s house. On the ride
there, Tamara sat in the passenger seat primping and touching up her make
up. She removed a small bottle of
perfume, spraying her neck and wrists.
The strong aroma tickled my delicate senses, so I cracked the windows to
circulate the air.

 

“The second house on the right,” she said, collecting her
purse. “Thanks Goten, I had an okay
time.”

 

“No prob.” We exited
the car and I encapsulated it, handing the small cylinder capsule to her.

 

“You’re a nice guy.
Don’t be a stranger alright, we’ll have to double date or something,
okay?”

 

“Sounds good.”

 

“Good luck with her
brother. It’ll work out, you’ll
see. Can I call you a cab or
something?”

 

“No, I’m good.”

 

Tamara waved goodbye as she entered the tri-level domed home
of her significant other.

 

Well, I suppose could stop off and tell B how it went. I walked towards the Briefs’ mansion, only
to arrive to discover that the home was completely empty. No Bra, no Trunks, no Vegeta, no Bulma; just
a big vacant house. I levitated up to
the domed rooftop, hoping against hope that Trunks would come home soon. And there I sat there stargazing, my thought
trailing to my beautiful woman. She was
something special, that one. Brains,
good looks, a killer sense of humor, and a mean left hook; what more could a
guy ask for. Perfection at it’s
best! I wonder where my little
temptress is at now. Probably out
blowing zeni with Bulma. I stayed on
the rooftop much longer than I should have; it was time to head home. I stood, stretching my limbs and popping my
stiff neck. I blasted into the star
speckled night sky, allowing my Ki shield to completely dissipate so that I
could enjoy the evening air whipping through my short hair and against the bare
skin of my arms and face.

 

I arrived at my apartment before I knew it. I slid the key into the lock and let myself
inside. Aw, there she is, how
sweet. Bra was half asleep on my
favorite recliner watching old black and white reruns. She was sitting sideways; her long toned
legs draped over the side of the chair.
At this moment I could honestly admit that I felt envious of that
recliner. The emotions she could
inspire in me from just sitting there in a pair of worn shorts and a tank top
were overwhelming. I just wanted to
hold her, bury my face in her hair and inhale her distinctive sweet scent. Kami, I wonder if this woman even realizes
that I’m putty in her hands. There’s
nothing in the world I could ever deny her, I’m hers. Just during the short time we’ve been a together I’ve never felt
so happy and complete. Memories flooded my mind of her and how she always would
to try to gain my attention. To think,
I could’ve been enjoying her affections much sooner had I not been so adamant
on keeping our relationship plutonic.

“Hey, B, what are doing here?” I asked, snapping out of my
reverie, then to my utter astonishment she shifted to Super Saiyan.  “Why
are you powered up, I don’t feel like sparring now, so cut that out before you
short circuit all my appliances,” I teased, trying to break the tension. “Bra, what’s wrong,” I softly asked, and
then I abruptly remembered that drunken fool and Tamara’s red lipstick on my
collar. “Oh.  It’s not what you
think, let me explain.”

“Explanations aren’t necessary,” Bra coolly said, pushing
past me to leave.

“Wait a minute Bra, it’s not what you think.” I told her,
holding my hands up in my defense. 

“Why?  So I can listen to your pretty sugar coated
lies, you little whore.  I hope it was worth it.” She venomously told
me.

 “Bra,” I growled, beginning to loose my temper. “You
don’t know what you’re saying.”

“What, did you want to fuck it all better again?” I took
her arm, whirling her around. Anger was
getting the best of me as my eyes and hair dangerously flashed from black to
teal and from ebony to gold as I fought to control my temper while Bra used her
other arm and lifted a soccer ball size sphere of Ki to my face.  “Let me
go.  Now,” she hissed.

 I have never in my life seen her so enraged. So, I simply did as she asked and let her
go. She needed to cool off and collect
herself. She had to know that I would
r ber betray her…she had to. I stared
at the door she just walked out of, my heart pounding madly in my chest. No, this doesn’t feel right. I know her and I know she needs her time to
calm down, but damn it…Damn it! I ran
out the front door, slamming it behind myself, not bothering to lock it. My eyes immediately searching the midnight
heavens for the tell tale trail of dispersing Ki. I saw nothing. I blasted
off into the sky, trying to sense her presence or any sign of which direction
she may have gone. I shouldn’t have
let her go. Bra, where are you?

To
Be Continued…

 

 

Translations

BFE – ‘bout fucking Egypt

Baka – idiot

Chibi – little, small