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Serendipity: Shifting the Paradigm	By : Ghost-of-a-Chance Category: Dragon Ball Z > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 589 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ, any of its characters/devices, or any books/movies/song mentioned; no money's being made here. I DO own Sierra, Rio, Rowan, & all my OCs...and a very fat cat named "Heifer."

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
It's time to torture Dende again. Heh heh heh...
Suggested Listening: Survivor "Can't Getcha Offa My Mind," Seether "Sympathetic," RUSH "Emotion Detector"
Driven on without a moment to spend
To pass an evening with a drink and a friend.
I let my skin get too thin.
I'd like to pause,
No matter what I pretend.*
The Mask Slips
Up on the Kamis' Lookout
The onset of winter brought with it new challenges for the solemn Latina Gohan brought into his odd little family. Two months ago, Dende agreed to give Sierra weekly healing treatments to help halt the damage being wrought against her joints. After a single month of weekly treatments, the evidence was clear…her deteriorating health was improving, and other than the aches caused by the cold weather, she wasn't hurting nearly as much as before.
It started out Gohan would bring her by in the evening, stay long enough for Dende to heal her then for a short chat afterward, then take her back to Capsule Corps around dusk. With the days getting shorter and the nights getting colder, though, they agreed on a new routine—Gohan now brought Sierra up to the Lookout before school, Dende stretched out the healing treatments over the day and spent some time trying to help her acclimate to her new reality, then Gohan would come pick her up after school. Dende didn't mind the new schedule much. Healing Sierra wasn't really increasing the amount of time he got to spend with Gohan, but at least he had company—Sierra was a tad odd and difficult to read, but she wasn't unfriendly.
Sierra still wasn't sure what to make of the whole strange situation. Aliens and technicolor hair were hard enough to comprehend. Flying people and time travel was even harder to accept. An alien kami guarding the whole planet and a floating palace in the sky? That was pushing it. Granted, that alien kami was a kid—frankly, an adorable kid who somewhat reminded her of a goofier, more innocent version of her niece Rowan—but every time she was around him, she struggled under the weight of the warnings her intuition bombarded her with.
Don't look him in the eyes—it's disrespectful! Bow before you speak! Address him as Kami-sama—to address him as anything else is rude! Keep your distance from him—he's too powerful and sacred to be sullied with the presence of mortals!*
Not for the first time, Sierra wondered how much of her intuition was valid and how much was complete and utter nonsense. Everything she was picking up regarding the young guardian told her she was far beneath him, merely a bug to tread upon if he so chose…her eyes, however, told her he enjoyed popcorn with extra butter and usually wound up wearing some of it.- Standing silently in the open doorway to the throne room she scrutinized the young guardian sitting cross-legged at the edge of the Lookout, popcorn bowl in hand and butter smeared all along his arm and chin. As so often, he was clearly enjoying the spectacle of humanity below them.
He made no sense…but was that really such a bad thing? If she were honest with herself, Sierra felt torn by her thoughts. Everything she'd learned about Dende in these trips told her he was approachable, friendly, and more mortal than deity. While this comforted her, it also worried her; was it really a good idea to entrust the world to a sheltered alien teenager? The question, though unspoken, made Sierra draw up short. Was it really a better idea to trust the world to a human mortal? Humanity was far from flawless and prone to the worst sort of vices and flaws…perhaps it was better to be protected by a naïve alien than a wise human.
Below the Lookout, the world turned onward with no notice of the teenage kami keeping watch from above. It was the very nature of time to always move forward—to never stop for man or gods—but sometimes that endless forward march grew wearisome to those left out. Shaking off his ruminations like a pesky mosquito buzzing in his ear, Dende shoved another handful of popcorn in his mouth, sucking the butter off of his sticky fingers afterward.
Life on the Lookout could be tiresome at times. There was still much he hadn't learned about the sanctuary, still hidden rooms and unlocked doors to be found if he chose to investigate, and the library rivaled the lost collection in Alexandria. Still, Dende was a bit more mortal than previous kami—he was young and distractible, and frankly, wished they could at least get TV reception up there. Alas, it was impossible, so he settled for the next best thing…watching the swarm of earthlings going about their droll lives, creating drama and obstacles to overcome, and silently rooting for those who showed themselves worthy.
Worthiness was a rare quality in mortals, sad to say, and for that reason, it always stunned him to find it. Recently, he found a rare mortal who was more than worthy—pure of heart and unfiltered in speech. Rowan…the memory of the cheeky redhead brought a faint blush to Dende's cheeks, a thin streak of red setting off the deep green of his skin. He really shouldn't be thinking about her so often, he reprimanded himself silently; he shouldn't be continually tempted to check on her, to hone in on her chi and seek her out among the countless others under his care. After all, she hadn't called out for him since the first contact. Alas, temptation was even harder to fight once you'd repeatedly fought it and lost every time.
After how many times he sneakily checked on her it was ridiculously easy to find her, and as every time before, the very sight of her made him grin like an idiot. Standing on her unmade bed in a tank top and underwear, she belted out the lyrics of an unfamiliar song into a spiky pink hairbrush while dancing like a fool. Big green eyes closed, pink-painted lips wide and grinning, hips shaking and head bopping, the goofy teenager hammed it up. Blissfully ignorant of anyone watching her, she roughly ran her fingers through her tousled red hair in imitation of some glamourous rock star then tossed her head from side to side in an almost head-banging movement.
"Break the news out - I've got to get out!" Rowan sang at the top of her lungs. "Whoa-ho, I'm feelin' better now!" Dende choked, face turning bright purple from struggling to contain his laughter.- "The world's done shakin', the world's done shakin', the world's done shakin' me down! The world's done shakin', the world's done shakin', the world's done shakin' me down!"**
"That cloud must be hilarious." Startled from his thoughts, Dende eeped at the sudden remark at his side and scrambled back from the edge spilling some of his popcorn on the way. Sometime between his decision to check on Rowan and her outlandish dance-routine, Sierra had approached and taken up a seat nearby, and apparently spent some time staring at him unnoticed.
"Uh…cloud?" Dende attempted with a forced, high-pitched laugh. Fortunately, he was able to prevent a recurrence of the last time someone caught him thinking about Rowan; if Sierra did, indeed, have ESP, she was likely to see right through his blurted insistence of innocence. The eccentric redhead wasn't just any mortal, either—she was Sierra's niece, and if Sierra ever found out he was watching Rowan—in her underwear, no less!—she'd—she'd— Dende forcibly silenced that train of thought and stuffed another handful of popcorn in his mouth to buy time. She didn't seem amused by his stalling—not that he could ever detect much emotion on her face—and once he'd chewed and swallowed, he asked, "What cloud?" Never taking his eyes off of her, he cautiously scooted back toward his previous spot.
Sierra rolled her eyes at the openly fearful behavior; did he think she'd try to bite him or something? That was Rio's territory, not hers—Sierra may resemble their mother most, but in temperament, she was more like their father. "You've been sittin' here a while now," she explained slowly, her words completely untouched by any discernible emphasis or emotion. "I figured you were cloud-watchin' until you started turning purple and snorting." Dark brown eyes glanced out at the clouds beyond, then back to the stunned alien beside her, and she shrugged. "Wanna fill me in?"
For a moment, Dende hesitated, carefully arranging his words before they could spill out and embarrass him. "I wasn't watching clouds," he admitted with a sheepish grin and reached up to rub his scalp awkwardly. "I was watching people. With enough training, you can sense and even see people all over the world from here…by focusing on their chi, their spirit, you can hone in on the people themselves and watch them live their lives out." He winced, turning back to the world below with a faint blush—again, more red than purple. -
"That's your job, huh?" Sierra remarked softly, also turning to the skyline. No matter how hard she tried, though, all she saw was clouds. "You're the Kami of Earth, so I figured you were a sort of ruler from on high - a deity of sorts." Again, she fixed her eyes on the fidgeting alien teenager. "Are you more of a guardian, then?"
"Yeah," Dende shrugged and held out the bowl of popcorn for her, and gave a dorky grin when she scooped up a handful of kernels to nibble on. "I'm a guardian—I'm here to protect and watch over the earth, to monitor the goings-on and bring peace and guidance to those who need it." He set aside the bowl and leaned back on his palms, letting his legs and slipper-clad feet dangle over the edge. "That's not why I'm over here, though—I can do all that from inside, but here, I can just watch."
"Just…watch?"
"We don't get a lot of visitors up here." The truth of the admission faded his smile, and though she never let on, Sierra regretted it. "Other than Mister Popo, and sometimes Piccolo, I'm usually by myself up here. People never come visit, they just come when they need something from us." His words were true—she could sense the verity in them as clearly as she could sense his loneliness—but what she couldn't understand was why she couldn't pick up any real bitterness from him. If what she'd seen of the Lookout so far was to be believed, then people-watching might just be one of the only pastimes a guardian could pursue.
"It must be wonderful," she remarked softly, solemnly. "Bein' able to see anyone an' anything without ever havin' to leave, that is." Jarred from his thoughts, Dende turned to her, wide-eyed in surprise. "Loneliness is a heavy burden to bear…but responsibility can be even heavier when others take advantage." When she met his eyes again, suddenly silent, the guardian experienced an unexpected realization of his own: she understood. The reasons and story behind it, he didn't know, but Sierra Stone knew what it was like to be lonely, to be responsible for the lives and happiness of others, and most of all, to be sought out only in times of turmoil and ignored when times were good. Her expression hadn't changed, not in the slightest, but he knew without a doubt she understood. That understanding prompted him to reach out—to offer the sort of comfort she'd never ask him for.
"You have family down there, don't you?" he asked with a gentle smile; she nodded, staring blankly through the cloud cover. "You mentioned that you cut all ties with your loved ones but you've said nothing about trying to rebuild those bridges. Do you plan to?"
"I didn't," she admitted in an almost-whisper. "I planned to die in the woods—I had no intention of ever going back. It was foolish, I realize that now, but at the time…" She fell silent, shaking her head with a scoff. "At the time I was sure I was making the right decision…Everyone always relied on me for everything an' the moment I started failing—started getting' too sick to accomplish anything—they took to blamin' me for my inability to solve their problems like usual. Only…only Rowan stayed the same…she was the only one who understood, offered help instead of demanding answers." For the first time that day, a tiny crack developed in Sierra's cold, blank mask; behind it, Dende could see hurt, sorrow, and anger.
"Rowan?" Dende echoed hopefully.
"My niece," Sierra explained, fondness narrowing her eyes. "She's a handful but she's our lil' miracle. Of everyone I cut ties with when I left, leavin' her was hardest of all." The silence stretched between them, and the weary Latina began to wonder if she overstepped some unexpected boundary. A sudden brush of skin on hers—soft fingertips pressed to her temple—startled her from her thoughts and she looked up at the young Namekian sitting beside her.
"You need to check on them," he explained with a small smile. "One at a time, picture the people you left behind—visualize them as clearly as you can, tell me their names, and I'll help you find them." She hesitated, glancing down over the unknowing world with a nervousness that never showed. "You haven't yet learned to sense the people below, but with my help, you will see them as I do."
It took a moment more of consideration, then she nodded. She knew exactly who to start with… "Rio," she murmured thinking hard about all the little things that made Rio who she was. "Susana-Ria Midori Stone—she's my twin sister, younger by mere minutes but I've always had to be the 'big sister' to'er." She shook off the bitterness associated with that realization, instead focusing on the good.
As Sierra told him about her sister, Dende silently searched the world below for someone who fit the description in her mind's eye. It wasn't hard to find her, not for an accomplished people-watcher, and he quickly located the quirky mechanic amidst the souls below. "Close your eyes…is this her?" He carefully projected to Sierra the images he was picking up—a tall woman in grubby clothes and a backward ballcap. Alone in a small, cluttered garage in a suburb of West City, she was bent almost double, buried up to the shoulders in the engine of an old air-car up on cinderblocks.
"Cómo en—yes, it is her!"~ Sierra's eyes flew open in naked astonishment and she stared back at Dende. This, he realized with pride, was the most emotion he'd ever seen from her in a day—hurt, sorrow, anger, affection, shock—her softly-rounded face wasn't very expressive and she had a strange knack for keeping it almost completely impassive, but now, he was sure with enough time he could learn to read her regardless. "That's Rio's house—she's been fixin' up that air-car for months, it'll be Rowan's graduation gift next Spring!"
As Rio Stone went about her business below, unaware she had an audience, Sierra screwed her eyes shut again to quietly soak in the sight shared with her, contemplating Rio's silence and odd behavior. Most people would never notice the little signs—the nuances and hints the other woman's behavior held—but to Sierra, who had been with Rio even from the moment of conception, they told a very plain story. The garage was silent, not blasting with music—Rio was troubled. She wasn't swearing, wasn't even grumbling aloud about the machine she was working on—she was lost in her thoughts. Softened green eyes and drooping brows betrayed sorrow and her tightly-drawn shoulders were a sign of fear and worry. The signs were clear…her absence was taking its toll on Rio but the other woman still hadn't given up hope that Sierra would come home.
"You don't look much alike," Dende remarked curiously, taking in the other woman's long honey-brown braid and her lean, feminine build and silently comparing it to Sierra's. "You said you're twins?"
"Fraternal twins, not identical," Sierra explained with a shrug. "Inside, Rio's more like Ma, but she always looked more like Dad—same hair an' eyes, lighter skin than Ma's, an' she's always had the kind of figure that kills. I'm more like our Dad in temperament but look just like Ma—dark skin, hair, an' eyes, more thick-set than svelte…" She shrugged opening her eyes again to meet Dende's. "It doesn't bother me, honestly…after her massive screw-up, Cor an' I never really cared about finding partners. Cordelia's our sister," she added on realizing he probably didn't know who "Cor" was.
"I hope I'm not overstepping here…" Dende turned back to seek out the next in line—a soul he already knew about. "You're talking about Rowan, aren't you? –about what led to her being born?" Sierra's dark eyes were guarded now.
"You've done your homework I see," she remarked slowly, her face impassive and her voice even more so. "Rio made a big mistake—a mistake I cautioned her away from, that nearly got her killed, and created an unwed teenage mother. I suppose it's not unusual that you'd know already—you probably saw it happen, didn't you?"
"No, I'm still new at this," he insisted honestly. "I've only been guardian here a few years now and I don't intentionally snoop on things that happened before my time." His senses tuned to Rowan again, he indicated for Sierra to close her eyes and cautiously sent her a vision of Rowan, thankful the spunky redhead put pants on since he lost sight of her. Now, though, he could see something he didn't see before. Lines of deep red peeked out from the sleeve of her tank top - lines of crimson ink swirled around the meat of her left bicep in a design he couldn't quite make out. Rowan...she had a tattoo?! The very idea boggled Dende's mind, but then again, how well did he really know the redhead? He'd only been stal—keeping an eye on her for a month or so!
"As Kami, I am responsible for the people of Earth," he explained to Sierra intent on putting Rowan's tattooed skin out of his mind. "Sometimes those people call to me for comfort or answers. Only days after I met you, Rowan reached out to me for help, told me her aunt was missing and asked for guidance." Sierra opened her eyes again, taking in his chagrined smile. "Imagine my surprise when that aunt turned out to be you. I only know some of your family's past regarding Rowan, and only what she unknowingly shared with me…humans aren't often accustomed to communicating by telepathy and when their thoughts are picked up, they tend to accidentally overshare."
Sierra said nothing, carefully studying his countenance and waiting for her intuition to warn her about him. To her surprise, she got no warnings whatsoever—she knew Dende wasn't telling her something, knew that he was more familiar with Rowan than he was letting on, but she also knew he had no ulterior motives toward her.
After so many years of checking on Rowan's friends, peers, and admirers, she was used to knowing with a single glance that her target was dangerous—that they didn't have Rowan's best interests in mind and often even wanted to use or harm her. Now…now she stared down a young man presumably Rowan's age—an alien, granted, but a teenager nonetheless, and one who had been fighting a blush ever since Rowan was brought up. Clearly uncomfortable with her naked scrutiny, Dende broke eye contact, staring off the side of the Lookout, likely focusing on the lovely young redhead dutifully tidying up her room.
Dende was a kami—the Guardian of the Earth—but he was watching her niece with soft eyes that betrayed no ill-intent. After so many years of protecting Rowan from those who might harm her, it boggled Sierra's mind to find herself facing down one who admired Rowan but wanted absolutely nothing from her in return. "She's grown beautiful, has she not?" the Latina remarked carefully watching for his response; sure enough, a faint hint of purple bloomed in Dende's cheeks before he cleared his throat and settled his thoughts.
"Well," he admitted with a sheepish smile, "I'm Namekian—a lot of humans tend to look alike to us, it's not easy to pick out small variations when you're overwhelmed by how different you look." He met her eyes finally, nervous but honest. "There haven't been any female Namekians since long before my time—I wouldn't even begin to know what they'd look like. I can't imagine they'd look like your niece...but if they did, then they were surely beautiful."
"Congratulations, Kami-sama." Sierra's airy comment startled him, but no more so than the faint tilt of her lips. "Rowan is my world—there's nothin' I wouldn't do to protect her from those who would harm her…but it seems you're not among them." Dende stared at the older woman in disbelief, mouth agape and eyes wide like a fish in a net. She…she wasn't horrified? She wasn't going to yell at him, to berate him for even having the audacity to see her niece as more than just another helpless mortal in his care?! His own brother, Scargo, was more than a little disturbed by Dende's obvious soft spot for the human woman, and as of their last contact, actually suggested he was perverse for it! …of course, Sierra was human. His race was entirely male but hers had two genders—it probably didn't strike her as odd, if only because she was used seeing male-female attraction.-
The Latina crawled to her feet with a soft, quiet grunt of pain, ending up half-stooped and clutching her back. "We can check on the others another time," Dende offered quickly taking his own feet as well. Gently shooing her hand away from the previously injured portion of her back, he gathered healing chi in his hands and soothed the strained muscles. "Perhaps next time I should offer you a chair."
"It was worth it," Sierra admitted softly, relaxing under the warmth soaking into her bones. Chi-healing, she found, was much more pleasant and comfortable than the usual methods of treatment she'd experienced. No cold hands digging into her aching joints, no colder needles shooting fire through her veins, no foul-tasting pills getting lodged in her throat and triggering her gag reflex. Instead, it was warm, soothing, and sent a fuzzy, fluttering sensation through her muscles until they cramped from the inevitable. She wasn't just injured, though—her own body was injuring itself, her own immune system attacking healthy tissue, and inevitably, it also attacked the warm healing energy trying to undo the damage. As always, Dende let his energy fade and pulled away before her immune system could muster an attack and cause her more pain.
He wasn't human…but did it really matter? He'd done nothing but help her, consistently tried to comfort her no matter how distant she was and how much she and Piccolo lashed out at each other. Dende was gentle, kind, and though he was blatantly inhuman, Sierra knew that he would never hurt her or her family...just like she knew from the very start that Piccolo wouldn't hurt her unless she gave him reason to.
"I'll be honest, here." Dende grinned as he led the way back inside the Lookout where it was warmer. "I'm kind of waiting for you to yell at me like you do Piccolo." Sierra rolled her eyes as she strode through the door he held open for her.
"Should I yell at you?" she asked vaguely. "You've been spyin' on my niece, but I know you mean'er no harm." Dende sputtered at the accusation but fell into sheepish silence at the tease in her eyes. He was, indeed, learning to read her, little by little—learning to connect the faint changes in her face with the less-faint changes in her speech and fill in the blanks. "Besides. I yell at Piccolo because he's un pendejo arrogante who needs un buen puto to straighten out his attitude."~~ Her face was still remarkably impassive, but the fire in Sierra's eyes and the suddenly gutteral turn to her speech told Dende what she said wasn't exactly complimentary. He held his silence as she continued ahead, ducking into the small room reserved for her, presumably for a nap or to read.
"I don't mind you keepin' an eye on Rowan," the Latina added idling in the open doorway with a pointed warning stare. "Especially with her father up for parole again, soon. From now on, make sure she has pants on before guardian-stalking her." The click of the door latch was quiet and non-threatening, but for that very reason, it made Dende's heart hammer in his ribcage. Surely…no, she couldn't have known he accidentally saw her niece in her underwear! Maybe—maybe Rowan had a habit of going around without pants?! Maybe she just assumed he might have seen her pantsless?! Oh geez…his deer-in-the-headlights stare had to have convinced her of his guilt!
"Man oh man," Dende muttered hurrying down the hall to the library. "That woman's terrifying!"
"What'd she do this time?" Piccolo's sudden demand made Dende shriek in surprise, but that surprise faded into dread.
"Uh…" He scrambled for some way of explaining himself without admitting she caught him "guardian-stalking" her niece. Then it hit him—a horrible, awful, completely dangerous idea, the kind often followed by "hold my beer" and then a hospital visit. "She—she said something I didn't understand," he explained, poised to run for safety once Piccolo's suspicion was diverted into fury. "She called you a…what was it? Un pendejo arrogante who needs un buen puto?"
Sure enough, the hastily-formed plan worked—the memories of the previous guardian told Piccolo exactly what the snide Latina said about him, and he was not happy! Dende ducked to the side as Piccolo stormed down the hallway toward Sierra's room, nearly purple with rage and clearly intent on demanding answers—answers he wouldn't get. Some things, Dende realized with a grin, really never did change. Piccolo had a nasty temper, Sierra was completely unimpressed by it, and they would never pass up an opportunity to engage in a shouting match.
At least while screaming at Piccolo, Sierra wasn't hiding her feelings; at least while bellowing at Sierra, Piccolo wasn't denying his own.

Up next: mornings are an abomination, Rio throws a fit, xenophobes can eat dirt, prepwork for Family Friday, and the Tapion and Sierra bromance commences in Bonds.
NOTES
* Sierra's intuition regarding the Kamis – It's not mentioned much in DBZ, but the guardian we knew as "Kami" wasn't the first Kami of Earth—he was only the most recent until Dende, and from what we've seen, among the more laid-back guardians. For that reason it can be assumed that previous Kamis may have been more distant and strict regarding protocol – unlike Dende's predescessor who had a bit of a goofy side. THAT is what Sierra was picking up, impressions left by previous guardians who weren't so laid-back as Dende and Kami.
- Namek Blood – Nameks and Food – Nameks and Gender – Toriyama is, and has always been, INCREDIBLY forgetful regarding his series. Normally, I use a mish-mash of the Anime, Manga, and occasionally add onto what's been left out of canon.
** This is what happens when I listen to too much alternative while getting pumped up for writing! "Better Now" by Collective Soul.
Cómo en… - Spanish, roughly "How on…?" as in "How on earth is that possible?"
"He's un pendejo arrogante who needs un buen puto to straighten out his attitude."– Sierra's less than impressed with Piccolo's attitude toward her, so she's saying 'he needs to get laid so he's not such a bitch all the time.' No, she's not slipping - her motivation is explained in a later chapter but her switching between English and Spanish is entirely intentional.
* Rush, "Time Stand Still" from Hold Your Fire.
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Serendipity: Shifting the Paradigm