So, this is my first Goku/Oc story. Please, please, please let me know what you think! It's probably just going to be a "go with the flow" kind of story instead of a straight cannon one, so bear with me. Thank you for reading!

_

"You have to let us throw you a party."

Isla sighed into her cellphone as she stopped and looked at herself in the half-mirror placed near the front door of her apartment. Quinn did not know when to stop.

"I don't know why you want to do this," She said, her tone soaked with exasperation as she tucked a dark strain on wavy hair behind her ear. "I'm going to be 26, Quintana. It's not like some sort of huge milestone. It's just a hang out and watch a crappy horror movie kind of birthday."

She could feel Quinn's annoyance from the strand of syllables she tossed together to signal that Isla should stop talking.

"Every birthday is a crappy-horror-movie-birthday for you! Let me do the best friend duty of getting you super drunk and dancy in front of everyone! You're not letting me live up to my full potential."

The pout was almost tangible. Isla rolled her eyes and let out a small chuckle.

"You know I don't dance in front of other people, Quinn."

"You will tomorrow night."

Biting her lip, Isla ran her eyes up and down her appearance in the mirror. She was finally enjoying looking at herself again. Her body looked like her own. She enjoyed the shape of her legs and the curve of her waist into her hips now. Her breasts seemed perkier instead of giant bags weighing her down. Her tummy, while not flat, was not the rotund barrel that it once was. It was amazing what escaping an abusive relationship would do for a person's self-esteem. Really, down in her heart, she knew that's why Quintana wanted to throw this party so badly. It was her first birthday in a long time without Paul.

"Fine," Isla conceded after a pregnant pause. Quinn let out a high pitched squeal that caused Isla to hiss slightly and jerk the phone away from her ear.

"You're not gonna regret this!"

Somehow, Isla had the feeling that she was.

_

January in Northeastern United States is brutal. Snow and ice rule every inch of the landscape. Isla's apartment was situated in the downtown area in a small town of Massachusetts. While this helped a little with the problem of snowy roads with the city workers putting salt out every chance they got, it did not help with the bitter wind that clawed its way through a person's clothing and burrowed into the bone.

She worked as a behavioral assistant in the juvenile detention center located on the opposite side of the downtown. Every day she would meet with her kids, assisting the doctor that was grabbing up service hours by either pretending to be interested in issues or offering unhelpful advice to kids that had heard all of the bullshit in the book. It made her want to continue her education into the doctoral program, but she never could get Paul to get on board. He through her Master's degree was enough for her and actively squashed every attempt of hers to promote the idea to him and herself. Screw Paul.

She'd met Quintana after they'd both moved from different parts of the US to accept the position as behavioral assistant. They laughed together at how odd it was to move to this small town for such a little position, but they loved the kids and the work.

"Who do you have today?" Isla stood in front of her case files, sitting her bag on the long table that she and Quinn shared as a desk.

" Dr. Monroe and Dr. Pratt." Quintana whined, looking up at her friend piteously, "Save me, Ise."

The brunette shook her head, waving a hand in front of her, "Oh no. They're the biggest wastes of time in this program. They hate coming here. I don't know why they still do it every week."

"I think they request me." Quinn sighed, returning to her computer work and pursing her lips, "I don't know why."

Isla rolled her eyes. She knew why. Quinn was the most beautiful woman in the world. Long, blonde hair that reached to the small of her back. Deep brown eyes that sat either side of a pixie nose. Her lips were full and deflated into a small smirk in casual conversation. Her skin was tanned, even in the blindingly white weather of winter. Her family immigrated from Columbia, her mother and father raising her in Texas. Isla loved listening to her talk to her family in the smooth Spanish Quinn was so comfortable with. It was like listening to a musical call from an exotic bird in their tropical habitat.

She sat in the group meetings of psychologists and their delinquent patients, contributing and recording the conversations. The kids talked mostly about what was happening to them inside the center, their relationships and their experiences. Rarely did anyone talk about their crime that led them to the seat that sat in that day. Later, she returned to her and Quinn's shared office and made her notes before calling it a day and making her way to the bus stop to take her back home.

She lived a pretty boring life. The only person she every really hung out with was Quinn and her boyfriend-of-the-moment. She rarely went out on dates. She rarely went to clubs. She rarely drank. She rarely had the experiences of someone in their twenties that she could either be embarrassed photos existed of or proud to think that she could tell her grandkids of one day. She just was, and she wasn't doing a very good job of it.

She entered her dark apartment, quickly flicking the switch as she closed the heavy wooden door behind her. Leaning her back against the door, she turned her head and stared at herself in the mirror once again. Her dark eyes scanned her face, taking in what she'd spent so much time trying to avoid. She was young, beautiful, and ready for something else.

The next day was a blur leading up to her party. The entire morning, her stomach fluttered with excitement and dread of the party that evening. She could barely focus on the group sessions she had, but she powered through them, throwing out questions that the doctor missed in her briefing notes.

When she returned to their office for her lunch break, Quintana cornered her, shutting and locking the door before pushing Isla into a chair and staring her straight in the eyes.

"I'm gonna need three things." The woman's voice was commanding as she held her pointer finger up in front of Isla's face, "One: your apartment key. Two: you to change into the outfit I have for you in that-" she pointed to the garment bag hanging on the back of their office door, her eyes never leaving Isla's "-bag. Three: you to take Dr. Monroe this afternoon because I'm leaving and won't be back after lunch. Adios. "

With that, Quinn stood, picking her bag up off of the floor and gathering her coat as she straightened. Isla shot her a look, her opening her mouth to protest but failing as Quinn quickly left and shut the door behind her.

"Freaking great." She sighed, twirling her chair so that she was facing her computer screen. She could see Dr. Monroe's stupid grinning face on his profile page, which she lightly flicked with her thumb and forefinger, causing the screen to momentarily ripple in rainbow colors. "Happy birthday to me."

_

Isla was going to kill Quinn. When she got back from her final session of the day, she took a peek inside the garment bag, trying to quench the curiosity of what Quinn had picked out for her to wear that evening. Her curiosity turned to horror as she held up the contents. A cocktail dress, above the knee length, gold sparkling skirt and a black bodice with a plunging sweetheart neckline. Her mouth fell open as she lifted the dress out of bag, a pair of black pumps falling out after it to complete the look.

She had never worn something so short or revealing in her life. Glancing down at her professional attire of a modest pencil skirt and sleeveless blouse with a fitted jacket, she compared her actual style with Quinn's obvious fantasy of her. She'd never commanded that much attention, but boy would she in this dress.

After her changing, she felt as uncomfortable as she thought she would in her new outfit. Earning a few glances from the night staff, she called an Uber car to take her home. The thought of riding the bus in that dress made her blush spread down to her chest, so she figured that she could hide the thing under her coat long enough for a stranger to drive her back home in their own private car.

Pulling up to her apartment, nothing looked amiss from the outside, which kind of disappointed Isla. She knew Quinn's idea of a party and so far there were no signs of it anywhere. Slowly, she made her way up to the second floor. The quiet of the hallway made her heart drop. Maybe Quinn told her to go to the wrong place. Her hand hovered over the door handle. Maybe she heard Quinn wrong about where to go. She turned the knob, pushing the door slightly. Maybe Quinn decided she didn't want to throw the party. Maybe-

"SURPRISE!"

The collective shout and confetti toss of the crowd standing her her living room sent a shockwave through Isla. A smile broke out over her face, its potency affecting the rest of her body in shivering delight. Friends and neighbors were scattered around the room, all smiling, laughing, and looking at her.

Quinn burst through the center of the crowd, handing Isla a drink.

"Happy birthday!" She shouted as music began to blare from the speakers on the far wall of the small apartment. "Let's get shitfaced!"

Isla grinned at her friend, her fears subsiding as she looked from the drink and back to Quinn's smirking expression. This is what she wanted. Her body went to autopilot, taking the drink her hand and turning it up, draining the burning liquid down her throat. "Fuck yeah!"

_

The days out on Mt. Paozu were long and boring if you weren't training. That's what Goku had come to understand. He leaned on the wheel of his tractor, watching the scenery drag by. ChiChi wanted him to farm and earn money for the family, but it wasn't the life he wanted. His body ached for the kind of intense conditioning he was used to undergoing. He felt like a race car on blocks, his engine revving but never letting him gain the sweet release of breaking free.

Usually, he would break a few times to power up, let his energy spike before doing a few exercises. Ultimately, however, he had to return to his hunched position behind the wheel of his tractor.

He'd been out for a few hours now, plowing the fields in miscellaneous directions, trying to seem busy so ChiChi wouldn't have any reason to complain about his time spent out of the house. But, to be honest, he wasn't even that good at farming and it just kind of got on his nerves.

Scratching the back of his neck, he leaned backward, stretching his eager muscles. The sun was high above him, telling him that it was time for a break. He looked around his field, taking in the bare dirt and surveying the trees in the distance.

"Maybe I should take a break over in the shade." He mused, tapping his finger to his chin, "That would be way more relaxing than eating in the sun."

Lunch in hand, he floated lazily toward the trees, touching down in the middle of a particularly covered area. His stomach growled in anticipation of the food ChiChi had prepared that morning. He could smell it all the way through the wrapping, whetting his appetite even after he had finished his breakfast.

"Thanks for the food!" He quickly prayed before lifting the rice bowl to his lips and shoveling it in.

"SURPRISE!"

A loud shout caught him off guard, his hand faltering and letting the bowl slip from his grasp. He stared down at the wasted food, his mouth falling into a deep frown.

"Aw man." He grumbled, casting a longing look at the rice that littered the ground. Quickly, he stood. The shout sounded like it had come from a group. Hopefully, he thought, where a group was, so was food, and they owed him some food.

The collective sounds of people mingling and music thumping through the atmosphere were muffled by the trees. Goku narrowed his eyes, turning in different directions, trying to find where the sound was originating. Finally, he settled on a direction and made his way toward the sounds of revelry.

He stopped at the mouth of a small cave, having to stoop to gaze inside. Cocking his head to the side, he looked into the darkness, confusion filling him.

"Who has a party inside a cave?" He wondered aloud, scratching his cheek. The sounds were definitely coming from inside, but the roof of the cave was so low that he had a hard time believing that people were actually inside enjoying a party as much as it sounded like they were. The strangeness of the situation peeked his curiosity as he got on his hands and knees, making his way into the dark cave. Briefly, he thought about his chances of meeting a bear, but dismissed the idea in light of the numerous amount of people it sounded like were also in the cave. The noise grew as he made his way further inside. After a few minutes of crawling, a dim light caught his eye. On the side of the cave, set in the rock was a hole. Goku approached it with a mix of extreme caution and intrigue. It was a window, showing people casually passing by with drinks in their hands, people dancing at what looked like a house party, and music and colored lights pouring out into the almost empty cave. He sat and watched for a few moments, but none of the people seemed to notice him. They chatted with one another, laughing and dancing as through he didn't even exist. Slowly, his hand reached up. He felt like he wanted to join them. He felt a pull to crawl through the hole and exist in their world. However, as he reach toward them, his hand was stopped by something cold and hard.

"That's strange." He mumbled, "It's glass."

Before he could spend too long pondering this, his eyes caught a sparkling flash, stealing his attention momentarily. It was a girl, a laughing expression on her lips as she danced with another girl in the center of the room. Her dress glittered gold as she twirled the other girl and then herself in a circle, a bright laugh emanating from her. Her dark, wavy hair brushed her bare shoulders as she tossed her head back in for the beat of the song, raising her arms up in the air and moving her hips to the music. He'd never seen anything like her. Other people gathered around her, shouting encouragements to her that she laughed off or playfully rebuffed. The other girl left for a moment, only to return with two small glasses, one of which she took for herself and the other she gave to the dancing girl. They both turned the glasses up and then two more that were brought to them by a man on the side of the dance floor.

The sights were so foreign, yet inviting to him, that Goku sat and watched the party until the number of people dropped from many to few to only the two girls.

"Duh-do you want me to help ya-you clean up?" The blonde girl's words slurred into a sentence with too few syllables to be actually intelligible, but the dark haired girl seemed to understand, shaking her head at her.

"No-no!" She waved her friend off in an awkward motion, "Jus go get in your cab. And I'll be fine."

The blonde girl smiled, capturing her friend in a one-armed neck hug before stumbling out of view of the window Goku peered through.

"Thank you for this, Quinny." The dark haired girl called toward the direction the other girl walked. A messy smile still lingered on her face as she stared in that direction, watching her friend leave Goku guessed.

The room was still and Goku was suddenly aware of how quiet the cave was with the girl just standing in her space, not making a sound. Her eyes wandered toward the window, causing Goku's heart to beat a little faster. Did she see him? He saw her eyes narrow toward him. She definitely saw him. Stumbling slightly, she made her way out of view of the window before returning to it moments later with a small cupcake in her hands, a lit candle on top. Her dark eyes met his, the hard gaze capturing his full attention.

"Well," she finally spoke, her voice steadier than in the previous moments of her speaking with her friend, "This is it, Isla."

Goku bit his lip in concentration. He watched as her eyes flickered from his to the cupcake.

"Isla," he repeated softly. She smiled as if it was a response to his acknowledgement of her. Her eyes met his again.

"Here's to the year of living life to the fullest. Here's to adventure. Here's to not turning back."

The girl smiled at Goku, her lips parting slightly and blowing out the candle on the small cake.

"Happy birthday."

"Daddy!"

Goku jumped, knocking his head against the roof of the cave at the sound of his youngest son. Quickly, he scrambled out of the hole and righted himself, dusting off his clothing and returning to the food he'd abandoned a few hours prior.

"I'm over here Goten!" He called and waited for the small boy to appear. Throwing one last glance in the direction of the cave, he noted the spot. This is somewhere he wanted to remember. This is where he could see Isla and the strange world she inhabited.

_

The next morning, Isla awoke with a headache that could have split Mount Everest. She spent half an hour vomiting and then dry heaving into her toilet before dragging herself into her demolished living room. Confetti and partially deflated balloons littered the floor. She made her way toward her kitchen, kicking a few balloons and fallen streamers in the process. Her reflection in the hallway mirror caught her eye as she passed. Dark bags and smeared make up decorated her eyes as her skin took on a grayish sickly color. She never wanted to drink again. Quietly, she thanked herself for changing into pajamas before going to bed, so she wasn't still in that cocktail dress from the night before.

She chomped on dry toast, washing it down with black coffee and laying her head on her dining room table.

The faces of the people who attended her party flashed through her mind. Brandon, James, Evie, Kia, Rachel, Jesse. All friends of her's that she'd known from around town. Bethany from reception, John from security, Linda from Human Resources. All people who worked with her. Other faces that she'd only been acquaintances with surfaced out of the drunken haze, all familiar, all guaranteed to give her hell about her dancing or whatever she said when she was drunk. All expect one unfamiliar face. A man with black, spiky hair. He was handsome, for sure, with dark eyes, but she could see him out of her corner of her eye whenever she danced or chatted with anyone. Always watching her. Who was he?

_

Please rr 3