The Broken Road

Kalendral9 - Thanks for the comment! Glad you are enjoying it :)

Velvet - Thanks for the comment! You think it's lovely that Goten wants to separate? Hehe, well I'm glad you're enjoying it and hope you'll keep reading!

quatreofdoom - Every time I get a comment from you I die from excitement just a little. You crack me up girl, seriously :)

Macha - Thanks for your compliment on portraying the disaster that was Gohan's life in that chapter. If you want to run and hide now, just wait until Chapter 11 :-P As far as Trunks' comments at the end of the last chapter, yeah I didn't see that coming either. He surprises me sometimes. But, well, we'll see where it goes. As always, thank you for reading and thanks for your comments :)

A/N 1 - This chapter is dedicated to Daisy, who has disappeared off the face of the Internet. We all hope you're okay and that you come back soon!

A/N 2 - Sorry for the extreme delay in posting this chapter. Our favorite demis weren't talking to me for awhile. Maybe they are mad at me, ha. Anyway, Chapters 10 and 11 are already 1/2 written so if all goes well, they should be up in the next few weeks. But thanks for your patience. Anyway, enough of my blabbering...


Chapter 9

“Hmmm.”

Trunks tapped his fingers on his chin as he stared at the computer screen in front of him. Almost two weeks had passed since he had decided to transfer to Weston and he figured it was about time that he submit the transfer application. Instead of working on his investor presentation, he had spent a good part of his Friday morning at Capsule filling out the sections on background, test scores, and educational data. Now it was time for the essay questions.

“Why do you wish to leave your present college or university?” he read aloud to himself.

How to explain this one?

He spoke the words aloud as he pecked the corresponding keys. “Goten is fucking some blond tramp.” Trunks looked at the cursor. Yup, that was about right. He tabbed down to the next question.

“Describe your family and its influence on you.”

His fingers moved across the keyboard quickly. “Daddy didn’t hug me enough, and mommy gave me everything I wanted. Do the math.”

Sighing he scrolled down to the next page. He had told his mother he wanted to do things the right way and go through the rigors of the application process just like everyone else, but he was quickly learning that the “right way” was exhausting. Especially knowing that he could ask Bulma to simply exert her influence over the board and save himself all the trouble. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. And a certain someone, whose high opinion he had recently been determined to earn, would most certainly point that out to him.

Reluctantly, he decided to continue on to the next question. “Besides academic qualifications, what strong personal qualities do you believe you could bring to this educational institution?” He chewed his bottom lip while contemplating the question. Good qualities. He was sure he had many, but all he could hear were Gohan’s ridiculous accusations ringing in his ears and he didn’t think ‘hormonal teenager’ was a positive asset. He wondered what it was that Goten had once seen in him, that had kept him close all those years. But from the way Goten had acted on the night that he left, Trunks couldn’t help but wonder if Goten only stayed out of habit. Or because he’d been afraid to stand up to Trunks. Not out of anything good that Trunks had to offer.

The demi-Saiyan prince pouted. This little exercise was only serving to depress him. “Meena!” he yelled as he stood up from his desk and marched towards the reception area. “You’ve worked here for a long time and you’ve known me for awhile. What strong personal qualities do I possess?” He waited expectantly. Surely she would come up with something nice to say about him. Hell, it was practically her job.

“Well according to Chichi, your strongest personal qualities are selfishness and egotism. Oh, and I think I heard the words ‘spoiled brat’ thrown in there one too many times.” The young prince rolled his eyes then turned to face his mother. Standing in the door to his suite, her arms were crossed sternly over the front of her long orange dress. Those pretty blue eyes that he had inherited were narrowed dangerously.

Trunks flashed Bulma his most practiced smile. “Hi, Mother!”

“Don’t ‘hi-mother’ me, young man!” Her voice hit a higher pitch as she stepped closer. “I just had to listen to that woman rant for a half an hour. And if I have to get an earful, then you’re going to get an earful. Besides, I thought I raised you to have respect for your elders.”

“But I do!” he insisted. “Really, you can ask Gohan. I didn’t even do anything. Chichi just has it out for me!”

“Oh? And why is that? You must have done something to deserve it.”

“Nothing that I can think of,” Trunks lied, as he mentally tallied up the list of offenses that Chichi could probably hold against him. Then he lifted his nose into the air defiantly. “If I’m guilty of anything, it’s only sticking up for a friend. Chichi thinks Gohan should have stayed with Videl even though she cheated on him, but I said--.”

Bulma gasped. “She cheated?! Gohan won’t say a word to me about it! What do you know?”

“Well, nothing specific,” he admitted. “But that was definitely the impression I got from our visit to Mount Poazu.” He lowered his voice dramatically, eager to get his mother off the topic of yelling at him and interested in something else. “Goku said she did something unforgivable.”

“Wow, poor Gohan.” She frowned. But when she next spoke, her voice had softened noticeably. “Well, you’re a good friend for sticking up for him. But you really shouldn’t interfere in their family affairs.”

“I know. And I usually don’t, but--.”

“And I hope you’re not being too much trouble at home, especially considering all that Gohan is going through.”

“No! I’m not! Why? Did he say something--.”

“You know,” Bulma cut him off again, starting to pace the floor, “I could send some robots over to your apartment so that Gohan wouldn’t have to worry about all the cooking and cleaning and--.”

Now it was Trunks’ turn to interrupt his mother. “Hello!” He waived his hands above his head. The lack of faith everyone seemed to have in him was really getting annoying. He wasn’t usually the one to turn down a free ride, but after thinking of the ‘strong personal qualities’ people had attributed to him lately, he was feeling defensive. “I live there, too, you know. I can do all that stuff.”

Bulma stopped pacing and looked at her son. “Trunks,” she sighed, “I’m sure you can do it, but sometimes it’s easier just to let other people deal with these things.”

“What like you and Gohan? I’m just as capable as the two of you. Only I never get the chance to prove it because you two treat me like a twelve-year-old!”

“Okay, okay,” she said in acquiescence. “Have it your way. But just let me know if you change your mind.”

“Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt,” Meena cut in, “but it’s almost noon.” She pointed at the clock above the door.

“Oh, right,” Trunks said, snapping his fingers. “Thanks!” He darted into his office to grab a grey peacoat. “Gotta go, Mom. We’ll talk later, okay?” He shot her another winning smile as he darted out the door. “Bye!”

Gohan did a half-turn as the demi-Saiyan prince raced past him in the hallway. “Hey, Trunks! I was just coming to talk to you --.”

“No time, Gohan!” the younger boy shouted over his shoulder. “Take a raincheck.”

Gohan stood there in the hall for a moment after Trunks disappeared into the stairwell. Damn, he thought to himself. He really needed to see Trunks’ work on the investor presentation Bulma had asked him to check up on. The meeting was going to be held next Friday morning, so this was Trunks’ last working day to prepare for it and probably Gohan’s last chance to see it before the big day. Gohan would be tied up in meetings all afternoon and if he couldn’t talk to Trunks during lunch, he didn’t know when he would do it.

The blue-haired woman stepped out of her son’s office at that moment. “Oh, hey Bulma,” Gohan greeted her. “Do you know where Trunks ran off to?”

“No, I’m sorry, I don’t,” she answered, her tone dripping with sweetness. “But if you need to talk to somebody, you know you can tell me anything.” She put both hands on his shoulders and looked up at him, her features saturated with concern.

“Uh…that’s okay.” He looked at her skeptically. “I’ll just find him later.”

“Why don’t you wait in his office, hon?” She ushered him into the suite. “I’m sure he’ll be right back.” If Gohan had decided to open up to Trunks about his ruined marriage and broken heart, then she wanted to do everything in her power to encourage it. She always thought he held way too much back, and she was sure it just couldn’t be healthy. Whenever she was upset about something, she made sure to let the whole world know.

Bulma pushed Gohan into one of the overstuffed leather chairs in front of Trunks’ desk. “I’ve known you since you were only this big,” she gushed, putting her hand out in front of her narrow waist. “And you just know I’d do anything for you or your family. You do know that, don’t you, Gohan?”

“Well, sure, Bulma. You’ve been a great friend. I’m sure I speak for my dad, too, when I say we couldn’t have asked for a better friend.”

“Aw.” She put her hand over her heart and gave him a little smile before turning to leave. “I’ll see you at one, Gohan. Don’t forget about the meeting!” she sang as she exited the office.

“Wow, she’s in an awfully good mood,” he said to himself when she was out of earshot. Then he got up out of the chair. He didn’t plan to sit in Trunks’ office and wait for him to come back. For all he knew, the younger demi had cut out early and didn’t plan to come back at all. But as he turned to leave, his eyes came to rest on the computer that was sitting on Trunks’ desk.

The presentation had to be saved on there, right? Gohan glanced at the door. If he could simply get it from Trunks’ computer while he was out, then he wouldn’t have to come up with some way to trick the other demi into showing it to him. “Meena,” Gohan yelled over his shoulder. “Do you have any idea where he went?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Son, I don’t,” she answered, appearing in the doorway. “Oh, maybe he has a lunch date!” she suggested cheerily. “Wouldn’t that be lovely?” She stared dreamily past him and clasped her hands over her chest. The Capsule heir’s love life was of great interest to the secretaries and assistants, but he rarely ever gave them anything to talk about, so they often resorted to speculation.

“Uh, yeah, maybe.” Gohan thought it was more likely that Trunks was trying to avoid a certain lunch date. It occurred to him that Vegeta usually carted the boy off to train around noon. And if that was the case, then he probably wouldn’t be back for at least an hour. “Thank you,” he said, dismissing the daydreaming woman.

He closed the door behind her and made his way towards Trunks’ desk. He really hated sneaking around like some kind of thief, but it was all for Trunks’ benefit in the end. So he grabbed the mouse and began scrolling through the recent documents until he found one called ‘Investor.ppt.’ Gohan opened the file and clicked through a few of the slides. It appeared to be a rather large file and he decided to email the presentation to himself to review later. That way hopefully he would be in and out before Trunks would even realize it. He opened a new browser window and began uploading the file to his account.

Gohan jumped when the door to Trunks’ office opened suddenly. With a series of rapid clicks, he closed the presentation and the browser window, along with a couple of other screens that had popped up. With as innocent a look as he could manage, he peeked his head out from behind the screen to face the intruder.

“Dammit, what are you doing here? And where is that wayward son of mine?”

“Vegeta.” Gohan breathed a sigh of relief. “Sorry to disappoint, but I think he may be avoiding you.”

“Why that little--!” Vegeta made a fist. “How dare he?”

Meena appeared behind the angry Saiyan. “Oh, don’t be too hard on him, sir!” she implored with a bright smile. “He’s in love!”

Gohan and Vegeta both groaned audibly. “You take his messages for him, don’t you?” Vegeta inquired.

“Yes, sir,” she replied.

“Then write this down. Tell him when I get my hands on him, I’ll make him regret the day he was born.” Then he turned to Gohan, who was now standing alongside him. “You and me, then?”

“Lead the way.”

***

Trunks slowed his pace when he got a few blocks from Capsule Corp. So long as he kept his ki as low as the surrounding humans, his father probably wouldn’t be able to track him down. He didn’t relish the idea of angering his father, but occasionally, it was worth it.

One particular memory surfaced in his mind. The seventeen year old demi-Saiyan prince had been on his way to the gravity chamber, where his father was waiting for him, when Goten and his family had shown up for a visit. Trunks had excused himself to go and meet Vegeta when, as he was walking down the hall, Goten had appeared behind him and dragged him into a utility closet. “Goten, what are you doing?” Trunks had asked, amazed at his friend’s uncharacteristic audacity. “You look way too good in spandex to waste it on Vegeta,” Goten had insisted, his eyes sparkling in the darkness. “Come on, he’ll never find us here.”

The teen’s face flushed at the memory. That time had been more than worth the eventual ass-kicking he’d suffered as a result. But today he had no such scintillating plans. Today he was going grocery shopping. After Gohan had shunned his expensive gift the week before, Trunks had struggled to understand what it was that his roommate wanted from him. He had made an effort to be more self-sufficient at home, and not leave clothes and dishes all over the house. But it hardly felt like the grand gesture he had been going for. And although Gohan had been in a better mood ever since Trunks had started doing his own dishes, it wasn’t the undying gratefulness the teen had hoped to inspire.

So, after some thought, he had decided to surprise his roommate to a home-cooked, sit-down dinner and he was very happy with his plan. It would be the perfect mix of thoughtfulness and effort and Gohan would just have to be floored. Plus, making dinner couldn’t be that hard, Trunks figured. If unsophisticated robots could do it, surely he could, too. But since his side of the fridge contained nothing but moldy leftovers, he’d need to pick up a few supplies first.

Once at the store, Trunks made his way down aisle after aisle, picking up whatever looked good. After a while, he had chicken, rice, ketchup, garlic, potato chips, broccoli, carrots, soy sauce, and chocolate fudge. As the pile grew higher, he wished he had thought to pick up a cart at the front of the store; or, for that matter, to decide on a recipe in advance. As he turned to walk towards the register, he surveyed the ingredients in his arms. Everything he had picked up tasted good, so he was sure he could figure out some delicious way to combine it.

Trunks looked up just in time to see a girl making a mad dash directly towards him. She was absorbed in playing with the watch on her wrist and not watching where she was going. He jumped to the side and spun to avoid her, watching her pass in complete oblivion. If he didn’t have such quick reflexes, he would no doubt be standing among a big mess of spilled groceries right now.

“Hey,” he shouted after the girl, “you should really watch where you’re going!” Finally becoming aware of her surroundings, she turned around to see what had happened. Trunks recognized her right away as Tiffany’s friend Kim; the girl who had introduced herself on the first day of school. “Oh, it’s you.” He made a face, then turned back in the direction of the cashier. For all he knew, the girl was really nice, but he associated her with Goten’s fan club and couldn’t help the feeling of contempt that washed over him.

Recognizing him as well, she put both hands on her hips. “Well if it isn’t the reluctant Capsule heir himself.” Trunks figured she was referring to the way he’d refused to admit to his identity when they’d first met. He ignored the comment and kept walking. But her next statement wasn’t so easy to disregard. “You know, your family is really a bunch of crooks! I don’t know how you sleep at night.”

“Excuse me?” Trunks demanded, turning around.

She held her left arm up and pointed to the watch she was wearing. “You know, I’ve wanted one of these things for months and I finally get it for my birthday but the stupid thing doesn’t even work.”

For the first time, he noticed the gadget that she had been fiddling with when she almost ran into him. “Oh, that’s one of ours. The D-2752.” He had worked on the tag line for that advertisement the previous summer. “A wireless communication device with fashion sense,” he finished absently.

“A piece of junk,” Kim corrected him matter-of-factly, crossing her arms over her chest in a huff.

“I promise you, it’s well-made,” Trunks narrowed his eyes and spoke in an overly patient tone. “But there’s a very sensitive Bluetooth chip in there that can be knocked out of place. Especially if the person wearing it makes a habit of not looking where she’s going and running into people left and right.”

The two regarded each other indignantly. Then Kim’s posture relaxed and she looked down at the ground. She had to admit, she was sort of a klutz. On the very day that she’d gotten the watch, in her excitement to show all of her friends, she had rushed out into the hallway of their dormitory and tripped on the loose carpeting. She supposed it was possible that the watch got knocked around a bit.

When she met his eyes again, she looked somewhat embarrassed. She had been annoyed that her new accessory was broken, and the last thing she needed was some guy yelling at her in the grocery store. She’d never expected to see Mr. Capsule himself standing there when she looked up. And although she’d been ready to give whoever it was a piece of her mind, seeing him had made her even angrier. But she was beginning to regret her hot-headedness. Everyone at her school was clamoring for a piece of this guy. And here she was yelling. She suddenly felt like an idiot.

“Sorry,” she said.

Trunks noticed her change of attitude and he relaxed, too. “No big deal.” Then his eyes drifted back to her wrist. “Hey, why don’t I take a look at that for you? I bet I could fix it myself.”

“Really?” She looked at him suspiciously. “But why would you do that?”

“Because having you walk around town calling us crooks has got to be bad for business.”

“Okay,” she agreed, after a moment. “I guess that’d be alright.”

“Just let me pay for this and then you can come back with me to Capsule. Oh, and hey. Maybe there’s something you can do for me, too.”

Great, she thought, here comes the catch.

The Capsule heir blinked at the armful of goodies he was carrying. “Do you know if there’s anything I could make for dinner with all of this?”

***

“I’m sorry for making you walk all over the city with me,” Trunks apologized as the doorman let the two students into his building. “I forgot I had to drop these groceries off at home first.”

“That’s okay,” Kim answered, looking around at the lobby decor. “It’s not as if I can go back to my room anyway,” she said absently.

“Why not?”

“Oh, the old sock on the door.” She rolled her eyes. “You know how it is.”

“Hm?” Trunks tilted his head. “What’s that mean?”

“Well, I guess you’ve never lived in the dorms.” She fingered the brass railings in the elevator. “This is a really nice building, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

“Do you have a roommate?”

“Yeah.” Trunks nodded. “Oh, actually, it’s Goten’s older brother, Gohan.”

“Oh, really?” She raised her eyebrows. “Why do you live with him and not Goten?”

“Goten’s mom wouldn’t let him move in. She’s really strict.”

“Ah.” Kim nodded in understanding. “Well, do you guys get along at least?”

“What, me and Gohan?” Trunks rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t know why he suddenly felt self-conscious. Then it occurred to him that he didn’t want to admit that Goten was really his only friend. “Oh yeah. We’re super close. Like this.” He crossed his middle finger with his index finger. “The best of friends, really!”

“Cool.” She seemed not to notice his discomfort as they stepped out of the elevator. “So, anyway, you have a roommate. Don’t you guys have some kind of signal in case you’re in the apartment … you know…with somebody?” She lowered her voice as she said the last few words.

“Ohh,” Trunks made a sound of understanding. “You mean if you’re WITH with somebody.” He smiled as he processed her meaning, then pulled the keys out of his pocket as they reached the apartment door.

“Yeah,” she chuckled softly at his apparent naivete. “Well, Tiffany’s my roommate, and she locked me out so she could be WITH with Goten.”

Trunks’ head shot up as he looked at her with wide eyes. For a split second he looked as if he didn’t know what to say. Then he blinked a few times and turned back to the door. “That sucks,” he said quietly.

Yeah…” Kim agreed, wrapping her arms around herself as she watched him scowl at the lock while fiddling with it. She could swear the temperature in the hall had just dropped ten degrees.

I’ll be right back.” Trunks entered the apartment and closed the door, leaving the girl outside. He went to the kitchen to put the bags of groceries in the refrigerator. Trying hard to stop his thoughts from drifting to mental images of Goten with his girlfriend, he swallowed the bitter taste at the back of his throat. It wasn’t as if he harbored any illusions about the nature of Goten’s relationship with Tiffany. But the way Kim had just dropped that piece of information out of the blue felt like a punch to the gut. He thought he might have been better off staying at Capsule Corp. and facing Vegeta.

The Saiyan prince stood up straight after closing the fridge, determined to shake it off. He was sure that Kim had picked up on his suddenly dark mood and he just needed a moment to regroup. None of it was Kim’s fault, and it wasn’t fair to take it out on her. She was only the messenger and she was, in a lesser way, another victim of the situation.

When he made his way back out to the hall, he tried to lighten the mood. “C’mon, we’ll head back to Capsule Corp. and after I fix your watch, you can hang out for awhile if you want. Since I know you don’t have anywhere else to go.” He smiled in silent apology for his strange behavior a minute ago. “You get a free lunch courtesy of the Capsule kitchen if you’re product’s defective. I’m sure I read that in the return policy somewhere.”

She smiled gratefully. “Sure! That sounds nice.”

***

“Your father was here,” Meena said without looking up as the two walked into Trunks’ office suite a short time later. “He says the next time he sees you, you’ll regret the day you were b--.” She stopped suddenly as she glanced up from her computer screen. “Oh! And who might this be?”

“This is Kim,” Trunks told her. “I’m just fixing her watch.” He clarified immediately, hoping to quash the rumors before they got started. “So dad was mad, huh?”

“Oh, it’s nothing that can’t wait ‘til later, dear,” she said to Trunks. “You two don’t mind me! I’ll just order you some lunch!” She waved at them merrily until they disappeared into Trunks’ office. “It was nice meeting you, dear!”

The Capsule heir closed the door behind him and leaned back against it, rolling his eyes. “What?” Kim asked him. “She seems very nice.”

“She thinks we’re on some kind of a date, I’m sure. They just love gossip around here.” He made his way to the desk and leafed through some tiny instruments there. “By the time I’ve fixed your watch, half the building will think we’ve been ‘WITH with’ each other right here on my desk.”

“Oh, gosh!” She clapped a hand over her mouth.

“Yeah, so you at least have to stay for a half hour or so. You know, make me look good.” He winked.

Kim laughed. “If only Tiff and Goten got wind of a rumor like that! You know they want us to date?”

As he took a seat at his desk, Trunks wasn’t sure what bothered him more. The fact that Goten was trying to set him up on a pity date, or the way the words “Tiff and Goten” rolled so easily off Kim’s tongue. As if those two words actually belonged together.

“You know what? Can we just not talk about them?” He didn’t want to be reminded for what felt like the millionth time of his own pathetic inability to move on, when it was so clear that his friend already had. Ignoring the lingering feelings had been working just fine until now, and that was the plan until future notice.

Kim watched the lavender-haired man stare at his computer screen and click across a few icons at random. He seemed to have become distracted and wasn’t really paying attention to what he was doing. But she was starting to recognize a pattern in his behavior. The Capsule heir seemed so untouchable from afar; his every smile practiced, his every word calculated. There was no doubt that he relished having control over himself and those around him. And for the most part, he seemed to accomplish it flawlessly.

That is, until Goten’s name came up. This was the second time in the last hour that he had visibly flustered and now she felt as though she saw the chink in his armor. So, he wasn’t infallible after all.

Trunks continued to stare at the computer screen but he was aware of her gazing at him. Without meaning to, he addressed her coldly. “I’m sorry. You seem really nice and all but I’m just not—.”

“Oh, no,” she said, interrupting him with a wave of her hand, “you’ve gotten the wrong idea. I think it’s stupid, too. I don’t even like you like that.”

But he didn’t seem to be listening to her anymore. “Oh my god….” He was still looking at the computer monitor, but now seemed much more focused.

In his aimless clicking, he had inadvertently opened the Internet browser and his eyes now caught sight of a disturbing image. The Weston application he had been filling out was gone and, in place of the form that had been there before lunch, there was only a confirmation screen. Panicking, Trunks read the message aloud. “Thank you for your interest. Your application has been submitted. An admissions representative will contact you shortly.”

He stared at the screen in disbelief, a cold feeling of dread settling in the pit of his stomach. He was positive that he had not submitted that application. He never would have done so; not with the things he had written. He slowly got up from the desk and made his way to the front office.

Meena looked up from her work. “Did you use my computer for some reason?” he asked quietly.

She shook her head in the negative, then noticed her boss was visibly pale. “Mr. Briefs, are you okay?” Without taking her eyes off him, she jumped up to get a cup of water for him from the nearby dispenser.

“Did anyone else go in my office while I was gone?”

“Well,” she thought about it for a moment. “Mr. Son was in there just after you left. And your mother, she went in with him. Oh, and your father was in there, too. Right after your mother left.”

“Was there a goddamn family reunion while I was away?” he yelled, then he ran both hands through his hair miserably, leaning against the door frame. “I’m so finished.” Between the application fiasco and the disturbing Goten-related tidbits Kim kept dropping, he really didn’t know how much more he could take in one afternoon.

Kim interrupted his thoughts. “Umm . . . should I go?”

He only shook his head held his hand out for the watch. After all, she had followed him halfway across the city in the hopes of getting it fixed. Plus it would provide a few minutes of distraction from what was quickly turning into an awful afternoon. Sitting back down at his desk, Trunks fiddled with the back of the gadget and popped the cover off to reveal the miniature instruments inside.

Kim watched his tongue slip through his lips and curl around the top one as he concentrated. Another thing she had noticed about him was that his moods, although they could change in a moment, evened out rather quickly; his outbursts not lasting more than a few minutes. When it seemed that he had sufficiently calmed down, she let her curiosity get the best of her.

“What happened with the computer before?” she asked carefully. “You said something about an application.”

"Let’s just say you won’t have to worry about running into me anymore, literally or figuratively,” he answered, without taking his eyes off his work. “I’m going to transfer to Weston in the spring. That is, if they’ll even accept me now.” He thought glumly of his ill-conceived essay answers while he moved the loose chip back into place. “My application somehow got submitted before I could … finish it.” A second later, he fitted the back cover onto the watch and held the gadget out to Kim. “There you go. Good as new.”

“Wow, thanks.” She scrolled through the watch’s functions and found everything to be in working order. “That was really nice of you,” she said sincerely, looking up at Trunks. He smiled reservedly back at her, shrugging his shoulders and pushing his lilac bangs across his forehead.

“It was nothing.”

He didn’t seem like such a bad guy, she thought. She knew Tiffany didn’t like him very much, but it was pretty clear now that they had personal issues with each other. Actually, she was pretty sure she knew what those personal issues were, and they were happening in her dorm room right this very second. She felt an unexpected swell of sympathy for the man in front of her.

“So, listen,” she said cheerily, putting her hand on his knee in a sudden show of solidarity, “I’ll tell you how to make a stir-fry out of all that stuff you bought at the store. And I promise you’ll have your roommate eating out of the palm of your hand by the end of the night.” She leaned down until her mischievous eyes met his. “Or wherever else you want him eating from.”

***

When Gohan entered the apartment, he was already sure that something strange was going on. First of all, Trunks hadn’t appeared in his office at the end of the day to try and drag him off to happy hour. And a moment ago, as he had stepped off the elevator, he was hit by the unmistakable smell of spices, frying chicken and vegetables. Now, as he stood in the doorway to his flat, he could see his roommate’s form bent over the kitchen counter. He seemed absorbed by whatever he was doing and didn’t react as Gohan closed the door behind him.

Loud music was pumping out of the state-of-the-art sound system the apartment boasted. Gohan remembered Trunks chatting to Goten incessantly the day they moved in about how great it would be for the outrageous housewarming party he planned to throw. But although that had never materialized, the teen seemed to be getting some good use out of the system now. He danced toward the stove, body moving fluidly in time with the beat.

Gohan had planned to question Trunks when he got home about skipping out on his father at lunch, but instead he couldn’t suppress a smile at the sight that greeted him. He silently dropped his briefcase onto the couch and snuck up behind the distracted demi. “Guess who,” he challenged, covering Trunks’ eyes with his hands.

Trunks ceased stirring the pot he stood over for a moment and a smile spread across face. “Gohan!” Then he found his rhythm again and pushed back against his roommate, hips and shoulders moving alternately and the rest of his body following. Trunks reached behind him to hold Gohan’s hips in place while he rocked his own back and forth expertly to the music.

Gohan watched his roommate move with snake-like grace against him and he wondered when the spunky little boy that he knew had become so... So...

Grown up.

“And where the hell did you learn to dance like that?” he asked softly at Trunks’ ear.

“Dance clubs,” the prince answered matter-of-factly. Then, spinning to face his roommate, he bent his knees and twisted his way down Gohan’s body until he almost touched the floor. Hitting the tiles with his hand, he pushed himself back up, using the other man’s tie for added leverage. “Hey, we should go sometime.”

“So a bunch of strangers can molest me while calling it “dancing?’ ” Gohan made a face. “I don’t think so!” He backed away from the stove, and Trunks, then reached up to loosen the knotted silk at his neck. He was suddenly feeling rather warm. “What kind of a song is this, anyway?” he asked, unable to ignore the risqué lyrics blaring from multiple speakers.

Trunks shrugged. “It’s J.C. Chasez.”

“ ‘All day long I dream about sex’ ?!” Gohan repeated the words with a shocked look on his face.

Trunks laughed at his roommate. “You’re such a prude, Gohan! And what does a perfect person like YOU think about all day?”

“Please,” Gohan said, rolling his eyes. He was far from perfect.

"Oh, guess what,” the teen turned back to the stove but glanced over his shoulder at his roommate. “I made a new friend today.”

“Oh yeah?”

Trunks nodded proudly.

“So is that where you were running off to when I came to see you? I suppose you forgot all about your lunch date with Vegeta.”

Avoiding Gohan’s stare, the younger man kept his own eyes trained on the pot in his hands as he made his way to the dining room. He placed it carefully at the center of the table, whistling along with the song as if he hadn’t heard the question. But Gohan persisted. “You know, he’s going to kill you when he gets his hands on you. I really can’t figure you out, pissing Vegeta off like that. I have to assume that you actually enjoy pain.”

“Almost as much as you enjoy lecturing me.” The younger demi straightened to face his roommate and put his hands on his hips. “How about, oh I don’t know, ‘Thank you, Trunks, for preparing this delicious dinner for us’ or ‘gee, Trunks, you look fan-fucking-tastic in an apron’? But no, all I get is ‘where were you at lunch today, Trunks? Vegeta’s gonna kill you, Trunks. Blah blah blah.’ ” He imitated Gohan’s voice in a nagging tone, lifting his right hand and opening and closing his fingers as though it were Gohan’s mouth moving.

God, the boy knew how to get under his skin! Gohan took a deep breath and fought down the urge to strangle him. But as his eyes swept the kitchen, he realized the prince had a point. There were grocery bags scattered all around and various sauces and spices adorned the countertop. The table was set for two, complete with stemware, candles, and a bottle of red wine. It was clear that his roommate had gone to quite a lot of trouble. Come to think of it, he had apparently incurred the wrath of Vegeta willingly just so he could set this up. Really, he wasn’t out of line to expect a bit of thanks. “Thank you, Trunks, for what I’m sure will be a delicious dinner.” Gohan visibly softened. “To what do I owe this grand gesture?”

“Well, I was having a bad day,” Trunks began, “but instead of letting it get to me, and dwelling on the bad things that have happened to me lately - and there have been A LOT,” he noted, “I decided to focus on what’s good in my life right now.” He picked up both glasses of wine and handed one to the other demi. “Like you,” he finished, lifting his glass. “I really did mean what I said to your mother the other night.”

Now Gohan understood. “This is much nicer than that suit,” he said with sincerity, holding the younger boy’s gaze. “So you do listen when I talk.”

“Of course I do. I hang on every word you say.”

It was a remark that Gohan would have taken as sarcastic except there was no artfulness to the other man’s tone.

“What should we toast, Gohan?”

“Hmm. To the future,” he offered optimistically, raising his glass along with Trunks. “In the hopes that we live long enough to see it after eating your cooking!”

***

A half hour later the two were stuffed to the brim and finishing up their second glasses of wine. “I meant to ask you,” Trunks said, swirling his glass in his hand, “what were you doing on my computer today?”

Gohan wondered how Trunks knew that he had been in his office. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Gohan. You’re a horrible liar. Now what were you doing at my desk?”

With a sigh, the other demi gave in. “Your mother wanted me to check up on your progress on the investor presentation,” he admitted. “But you weren’t supposed to know about it.”

“Why?” he sounded dejected.

“Well, it’s just, you know, your first big project and all… It’s only natural--.” Gohan was cut off by the sound of his cell phone ringing.

“She said she trusted me,” Trunks lamented, resting his chin in his palm with a pout.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to have to take this,” Gohan said, looking at the display. “It’s Goten.” He flipped the phone open. “This better be good, little bro. You're interrupting the best meal I've had in weeks!” He shot Trunks an encouraging smile, hoping to lift the younger boy’s spirits a bit. But Gohan’s cheerful demeanor dissipated as he listened to his brother’s rapid speech. “What? Wait, Goten, slow down.”

Trunks looked up at him. He could hear his old friend’s frantic voice coming through the phone but he couldn’t make out any of the words. “Alright,” Gohan said calmly. “Listen, I’ll be--.” He stopped talking as he was apparently cut off. “Goten--.” Trunks heard the younger Son continue to spew out rushed sentences. “GOTEN,” his roommate repeated more sternly and the rapid speech at the other end of the line finally stopped. “Just tell her to calm down. I’m on my way right now.”

With that, he clicked the phone shut. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure. It was hard to get anything coherent out of him. He’s upset and says mom’s freaking out. You know Goten; he’s really not good at dealing with her when she’s like that. But I’m sure it has something to do with you-know-who.”

“The ex-wife from hell?”

“Bingo.” He looked apologetically at Trunks as he stood up. “I’m afraid I’ve got to go out there.”

The teen stood, too. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got this one.” He got up from the table, but stopped and turned abruptly, putting one hand behind his head. “Just so you know, tonight was really nice.” Then he made a face at how lame that sounded. “I mean, y’know, it was cool. The food was really good and . . . the company--.”

Trunks’ eyes sparkled with genuine amusement. “For fuck’s sake, you’d think I was a girl for all your blubbering.” He nudged Gohan away from the table. “Go. I understand. They’re your family and they need you.”

Gohan nodded solemnly then disappeared down the hallway towards Trunks’ room. The fastest way to get to Mt. Paozu would be to fly and the balcony faced away from the street, making it a good place to take off. He slid open the newly repaired door.

After the events of the previous Friday, Gohan had called a repairman himself and told the guy that money was no object if he could get the job done same-day. Trunks had been back in his own room by Saturday night. Gohan thought the teen would be pissed that he had essentially been kicked out, but surprisingly he hadn’t made too much of a fuss. And for the last week things had been going really well. So well, in fact, that Gohan realized he actually regretted being called home tonight.

He found himself thinking it would have been fun to spend the evening with his roommate. As irritating as Trunks could occasionally be, he could also be compassionate, witty, and charming. And as much as the prince drove him crazy sometimes, at least he was never boring. In general, things just seemed a little more exciting when he was around. And Gohan had to confess he could use a little excitement in his life.

He sped up as he flew towards his old house. If he could get things straightened out there quickly enough, maybe he could make it back in time to pick up where they’d left off.