A/N/Di: The real update I had intended, subsequent a smattering of pointless blurbs. Slight AU; on the theory that Goku, while not brilliant, is extraordinarily empathetic—and, most importantly, a Saiyajin and a man who is, for all intents and purposes, a human, and therefore quite capable of making very human mistakes. Patience does not equate to satisfaction—mental, sexual, or otherwise.

Warnings: Infidelity, and a couple of sexual references and/or implications that will vary in degrees of occurrence depending on how old you are.

--if skies should fall

    (8/22/2k3; fin.1/5/2k4)

Body, recall not only how much you've been loved,

not only all the beds on which you've lain,

but also those desires which shone

for you in candid eyes,

and trembled in the voice

                       

--K.P Kavafis "Body, recall…"

Days and nights and that which fell in between became just that, after a while. As she gently pressed the wrinkles out of work pants and put brisk edges into the jackets, the clickclick of the keyboard, consistently punctuated with the clack of the backspace key, jerked through the silence; a typist Gohan was not. Around midnight she straightened, though her smooth back-and-forth rhythm never faltered –hadn't she ironed the navy pants already?-- and he would finally spare her a quick glance, eyes dark with fatigue and twitchy with caffeine-induced spurts of inspiration. "Are you going to bed soon, Videl?" he would ask.

On Sunday nights she would shrug, continuing to sort through the weekly mound of clothing. It was always an unfailingly monstrous, blue-green-grey symbol of drudgery, with the usual red shirts from Pan –why did she enjoy the color so much?—sheepishly peppering the sides. "Does it matter?"

"I don't know. You just look tired, that's all."

She would pause, then drag the iron across the last dress shirt with the unthinking precision of a dedicated housewife. There were times that she looked at her life and marveled; at sixteen, strapping on fighting gloves and cracking her knuckles, she had laughed at the idea of becoming so tame. "It's been a day," she would say simply, "it's been a night." And that would be that.

Sometimes she could feel his ki –she was sure of it—though Gohan said his father kept it down too low for her own inexperienced senses to detect. Consequently, she always knew when Goku and Chichi had a fight; the noise was enough of a clue, for one, and not long after the commotion ceased and Chichi had tossed him out the door with a half-packed suitcase and a toothbrush ("And you can find your own damn toothpaste!") she could sense his rapid retreat into the mountains. From there it would be a rapid series of power-ups and downs; enough to make Gohan raise his head and lower his eyebrows: "I wish he'd stop doing that…"

Those nights, long after Gohan had staggered off to bed, Videl would sit up with a cup of undrunk coffee and would examine the middle section of an unread book. The drunken offbeats of the living room clock would stumble by with dutiful thwocks, dull; the hours didn't drag as much as they did simply run together, like the rain at the foot of a slide or the chapters of a listless fairy tale. Sooner or later the thump would come, first of boots and then of knees, followed by the weak scrape of knuckles against the wood, and most times there was blood, but if Gohan noticed the weekly replacements of the welcome mats he gave no indication. Videl would always open the door, meeting the exhausted, pleading gaze ("M'sorry, Videl, please, just for a few minutes…?") and would lay the back of her hand against a heated cheek, marveling that eyes so shadowed could hold the warmth capable of fetching the summer home.

Gohan's conventions had a tendency to stretch into days, and weeks. "If I could use Instantaneous Movement I would visit you every day," he had once told her. She had nodded, silent, and had not mentioned the fact that if he had wanted to, really wanted to, he could fly back any time of the day from anywhere on earth under an hour. It was useless attempting to carry on a conversation when he was preparing for a trip; his eyes remained distant, and his fingers, normally steady, would tug at his pockets, his cuffs, his hair, as he searched for the plane tickets he did not need. 

On the fifth day Pan was at Bra's –from there presumably at the mall—and Goku was at the window. At first she didn't see him. Breakfast was an all-consuming practice for a woman who had just in recent years learned how to cook, and the smell alone was enough to distance her from distractions. As it happened, however, when she turned to head toward the table, his cheerful face filled the window and his fingertip tapped against the glass and she screamed, dropping the dishes. They shattered over the tile. "Oops," said Goku. He pressed his nose to the glass. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"It's all right." Videl drew in a deep breath, disgusted to find that her hands were shaking. "It's all right. The food would have tasted horrible anyway."

She stepped over the mess carefully, making her way across her living room. Goku disappeared from the window, leaving a faint smudge, and was shifting his weight on the porch when she opened the door.  "Seriously, that was dumb of me," he said.

Videl shook her head. Even as she did she caught the familiar scent, one that Gohan had had once –brushes of spring and dandelion, with mountain flowers, of morning dew and nights of rain and damp pine and life—before the gentle aroma had given way to the un-scent of files and suits and instant hand soap that made him perpetually 99.9 percent bacteria-free from palm to fingertip; he smelled, if anything, like nothing at all. "Come in?" she said.

"Wouldja mind?"

Videl stood aside to let him pass. He did, and clapped his boots against the rug reflexively, but made no move to remove them. Amused, Videl carefully closed the door behind him. Though she detested sweeping up the dirt flakes that resulted from such negligence, she found the lack of pretense and protocol refreshing; a child's innocence in a man-sized body. "And you're being too modest," said Goku. "Your food is always good."

"How do you know? You've never tasted it."

"Have so." He tossed his jacket up on a hook. "Several times. You probably just don't remember 'cause I was eating it so fast."

Videl folded her arms, smiling slightly. "Yes, that must be it."

"In any case…" Goku threw her a quick grin and clomped across the floor gracelessly, shaking his head as if the outdoor mentality was something to physically dislodge. "… I now owe you a meal, and I always pay my debts. And I need to clean your floor."

"Mr. Son," she said, "Goku… you don't need to clean my floor for me."

He swiped the rag from the handle of the stove and cleaned her floor for her. "As for breakfast," he said, shaking the glass fragments out into the trash, "what do you feel like? And don't worry, I'm a pretty good cook. Well, not as good as Chichi, but. Do you like pancakes?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You know, food? What do you feel like? I mean, not what food do you feel like, as in, you know, being, but what you feel like eating. I made that mistake once. Boy, was that embarrassing. I said I felt like a plum. Do you ever feel like a plum? Or an apricot?"

Her fingers drummed the inside of her elbow. She suppressed the urge to smile. "You don't have to make me breakfast."

"Of course I do. It'll be my pleasure. How about blueberry? Ooh, wait, better yet, do you have raspberries?" Goku rummaged through the refrigerator. "I can make an every-fruit pancake. A fruity pancake. A very-berry pancake. Here we go." He resurfaced, holding a container of wilted, apologetic-looking blackberries. "These'll do the trick. This'll be great! Where's Gohan, anyway? Wherever he is, he's got his ki awful low…"

Videl lowered herself into a chair at the table. She was not taken aback –these kinds of visits had grown increasingly common over the last couple of months—and while they were wholly devoid of point or direction she found that she was, to her own surprise, immensely fond of them. "He's at a meeting somewhere up north," she said.

There was a minute pause in activity. Goku turned his back to plug in the coffee machine. "Again?"

"Mm."

"And Pan's at Capsule Corp., I can feel that… she never bothers to hide her ki…"

"She spent the night yesterday. Summer vacation comes along, it's tough to get her to come home. And I can't say I blame her, either." Videl rested her elbows on the table and propped her chin atop interlaced fingers. "Compared to Bulma's this place is a shack."

Goku laughed. "Compared to Bulma's, everyplace is a shack. D'ya like sausage?"

"Yes."

"D'ya have sausage?"

"No."

He blinked out, and four minutes later he was back with a package of 'BEEFY BOY'S SMOKEY LINKS: CAN YOU BEAT THIS MEAT?'. "So how long has Gohan been gone?" he asked her, shaking them out into a pan. "I didn't even feel him leave."

"Sorry, hon, it's going on a little longer than expected… I'm real sorry, I'll make it up to you, I swear…" "Not long," she muttered.

He looked at her curiously. She found herself averting her gaze. There was still a small scattering of shards that Goku had missed, she noticed. "It's not his fault," she said. "I know if he could stay home more often he would. He is the one that brings in the money. Well, him and my father. I really don't have the right to complain."

"Sure you do."

She glanced up again, but Goku had turned his back once more and was tending to the machine. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"I just… I don't think he realizes how lucky he is."

"What?"

Goku looked over his shoulder. The Son grin was there, with all of its unparalleled wattage, but there was something lingering in his eyes that threw it off, somehow. "To have you for a wife," he said.  He turned then, opening the cupboard above the stove. "This is where you keep the beans, right? Anyway, just look at you! You're pretty, you're smart, you're tough, you're compassionate… heck, a guy could go on forever."

Videl shook her head. "I'm not pretty."

There was a rapid series of movements in which Goku fumbled with the bag, brought it down quickly to avoid spilling the beans, burned his wrist on the skillet, and banged the back of his head against the open door of the cupboard. Videl stood to find a dustpan, intent on finishing cleaning the floor. "What?" Goku gasped. "Who told you…?"

"No one needed to," she said quietly. A quick search uncovered a sullen-looking broom and she set to work, scratching listlessly at the floor. The pieces clinked loudly in the silence.

Goku set the bag down on the counter. "Videl."

"It's all right." Clink. "I know it's something I'm doing. It has to be. I'm the lucky one in this relationship."

She dropped to her knees, picking up the smallest shards one by one with once-callused fingers. They protested stubbornly, sliding across the floor. She ground her index finger into one, pushed it through skin; loosened it with her thumb to drop it into the dustpan, then repeated the action, spotting the tile with scarlet prints, bloodless lips pressed in a reassuring smile, emptier with time, time and time and times again.

Three o'clock on the first of the month always found her on the walkway to Chichi's house. Chichi was a stickler for tradition, and teatime –and more specifically, social time—was a ritual that was in no way negotiable. While Videl was not averse to the visits, she did not look forward to them either, and she liked them even less when there were actual current events to mull over –Chichi Liked To Talk, and assumed Videl liked to listen. Such afternoons had a way of dragging on and on: an assembly line of words and meaningless extraneous syllables and tangled, unconnected sentiments.

It was the first of July and when Chichi opened the door, she was breathless. "Good afternoon, Videl," she said. "Sorry I'm running a little behind… come in, won't you?"

Videl followed her in. Chichi went to the stove and pulled the door back to peek inside. Evidently satisfied with what she saw, she clicked the dial down from 'radiant bake' and began hunting about for a hot pad. "Where's Goku?" asked Videl, sitting down.

Amazingly, the movements somehow became crisper. "Out back. I told him I was busy and that he needed to hang up the laundry." Chichi located a hot pad in a drawer beside the stove and slammed the drawer shut. "He said he would, but I'd bet you anything he took off somewhere to train."

"No," said Videl unthinkingly, "he's here." At Chichi's questioning look she hastily added, "I mean, I just have a hunch. He wouldn't say he was going to do something and then not do it."

"Oh, ho. Is that so?" Chichi slid the pan onto an unheated burner on the stovetop and reached into the cupboards for plates. On the back burner, the teakettle began to clatter. "Goku is horrible at following through. He's horribly irresponsible. I know this sounds terrible, but I wish he'd act more like his son. Gohan has had more brains than Goku since age three."

"Chichi, you know that's not true. Goku's not stupid, he's just—"

"Innocent? Absentminded? I've heard them all, Videl, and it all comes back to the same thing." She set the plates down onto the counter with a loud clatter. "Honestly. He's so unreliable. I'm not sure what I was thinking… was I thinking? Would you like a muffin?"

Videl carefully heightened her awareness. After a moment she sensed his presence again, brilliant as sunlight. Goku was there all right, and, judging by the easy balance of his ki, was indeed hanging the laundry.

"Videl?"

"Yes, please," she said. She folded her hands and stared at the table. The top was immaculate and polished, though a set of faint lines at the edge caught her attention. She ran her finger over them, recognizing shorthand. "This looks like Gohan's writing."

Chichi came over to set the plates on the table, leaning over to get a look. "They're old," she murmured, then smacked her fist against her palm, scowling. "I knew it! That one time Gohan kept shifting his paper when he was taking that test… I swear, I'm going to give him the spanking of his life when he gets back from that convention!"

"Are you and Goku okay?" asked Videl.

Chichi shot her a look, anger forgotten in her surprise. "That meaning?" she said warily, and went to get the muffins.

"I don't know. He just seems… tired lately, and you seem kind of preoccupied. And I hear you…"

"Yelling," said Chichi. She nudged a batter-coated spatula into the sink and returned, setting the pan of muffins on the table. "I know."

Videl took one, slowly peeling off the cup at the bottom. "I know it's none of my business," she began.

"It's all right." Chichi pried her own muffin from the tin and tugged it into halves with pale fingers. "It's not like it's a secret, I suppose. It's just… he makes me so frustrated, Videl. I love him, I don't deny that, and it's not that I don't enjoy his innocence, but sometimes it would be nice to have another 'adult' in the house, does that make sense?"

"It makes sense," said Videl.

"I try not to be a bad person, really, but Goku isn't exactly good at bringing out the best in me." A piece of muffin fell to the table. She picked it up and allowed it to make it halfway to her mouth, where it hovered, forgotten. "And it's not just that. Sometimes I feel as if he doesn't really care. Like he… like he's here just because he doesn't have anything else to do, or, or worse, because I'm somehow forcing him to be here. I know our engagement wasn't exactly a traditional affair, but I always thought that he still cared somehow. Like he really did love me, and wanted to be with me."

"He cares," Videl said softly, and Chichi raised her head, face unreadable. She found herself stumbling over her argument, startled by the sudden apathy. "I… I mean… doesn't he…?"

"What's more," said Chichi, finally putting the piece of muffin in her mouth, "I don't think I do anymore, either."

Later that evening, when Chichi excused herself to go make a phone call, Videl slipped out back. On the deck the wind-chimes were dancing from silver to gold to scarlet as dying light began coaxing shadows from the corners; the air was heavy with the smell of flowers and freshly-mowed grass. From behind the billowing sheets she could see telltale black spikes, and a flash of blue; Goku poked his head out. "Hi," he said.

She slid out of her sandals and stepped from the porch onto the lawn. The short blades prickled her toes. Goku returned to pinning up the clothes, placing another clip up onto a bright green shirt. "Chichi said you'd be out training," said Videl.

Goku shrugged. His denim shirt was unbuttoned to the breastbone; the collar flapped idly against his neck. "Well, you can sort of call this training, I guess," he said. "It takes patience, and precision, and practice, and… and other 'p' words."

Videl smiled, wondering whether or not he'd missed her point on purpose. "I would've thought you'd have finished this a long time ago."

"Oh, I dunno. There were a lot of clothes, and things kept blowing away… you should've seen the way I had to chase down one of Chichi's blouses. I felt like I was trying to catch a headless chicken. 'Sides, I really didn't feel all that much like training, anyway. I had no reason to rush. Whoops."

Videl picked up the clothespin he had dropped and handed it to him. "Since when do you not feel like training?"

Goku took the clothespin between his teeth and used the one he was holding to fasten up the other leg of the pants he was hanging. "It happens sometimes," he responded, voice slightly muffled. "Not often, but, you know. Sometimes."

That finished, he took the clothespin from his teeth and fastened it onto the crotch of the jeans. Videl ducked her head to hide a grin. "And what do you do when it happens?" she asked.

"Sometimes I go hang out with Kuririn or Yamcha. I take walks in the woods, see who's having kids. That kind of stuff. And I try to get Chichi flowers when I'm out so she can make the house pretty. I know she likes doing that."

"That's very thoughtful of you."

"Is it?" Goku's back was turned, but she could hear an odd note in his voice. "Chichi never seems to think so. Lately she's just been throwing them down and saying I'm trying to butter her up."

"Maybe she thinks they look nice with the carpet."

He looked over his shoulder quickly, grinning. "I keep forgetting how funny you are."

"Me, too." Videl lightly ran her fingers over the yellow silk of the shirt to her left. "But every day I wake up and look at the mirror I remember, and I laugh and laugh and laugh."

"You sure that's… you know, healthy?"

"Self-depreciation is an art form to some."

"And anything goes at seven o'clock, ne?" Then the smile slowly faded; Goku suddenly seemed to find the belt loop of the jeans interesting.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"Huh? Oh. Yeah. I was just…" He bit his bottom lip. "Did… Chichi say anything to you when you were inside?"

"She said lots of things," she hedged, and was taken aback when old eyes surfaced from the childlike features. "I mean… she did sort of mention why she was mad, I suppose… can't you tell?"

"Not really." Callused fingers rubbed the loop. "I mean, I suppose I can guess, but… I dunno. She always seems to take offense to everything I say. It's like I'm bugging her. I don't get it. I've tried everything. I just don't get why she… She really does hate me, I think. If only I weren't…"

Videl's eyes narrowed as he trailed off. "If only you weren't…?"

The fingers tightened; a tearing sound, and the loop became a flap. "If only I weren't so stupid," Goku muttered, "maybe…"

Cold fury flooded through her. Without thinking she reached up and grabbed his shoulder, turning him to face her. "You listen to me, Son Goku," she snapped. "You are not stupid. I don't care what Chichi or anyone else says. If they don't know better then they don't deserve you in the first place."

To her horror he avoided her gaze. "But…"

"You're not a scholar like Gohan, I realize that, but book smarts aren't everything. I know you know that, Goku. Being a better person is more important. Being with your family is…" Videl broke off, releasing his shoulder. She was startled to find that she was shaking. "I would rather have a loyal man as dumb as the day he was born," she whispered, "than a brilliant man who doesn't know how to find time for the person he loves."

Goku stood motionless, eyes wide and startled. Unable to meet his gaze, Videl turned away, focusing hard on the tree-line to dispel the burning feeling behind her lids. Over on deck, the wind chimes quieted momentarily, then began to shiver as the evening breeze settled down into something more serene. "D'ya always wear your hair up like that?" Goku asked. "It looks like it hurts."

Videl laughed. She couldn't help it. Goku made a religion out of impropriety; his innocence was the aspect that made it amusing instead of insulting. "Usually."

"You shouldn't."

Rubbing a palm into each eye, she turned back. His gaze had lifted from the ground to study her hair, but as she watched, it lowered to hers, slowly. "Really," he said, a tad more sheepishly. "I mean, it looks nice, I guess, but doesn't it hurt your head?"

"Only sometimes," she said, straight-faced.

"I just think you'd look pretty with your hair down." His hand lifted; lowered.

The absurdity of the situation did not escape her: the savior of Chikyuu, discomforted by a too-tight hairdo and a plain silver clip. "It's okay," she said.

"Really?" Goku edged onto his toes and back onto his heels with the unease of a hungry child at a well-guarded candy shop. "I mean, y'know, just to look…"

"If my hair makes you so nervous, I can power up and attempt to protect you," she said. "There are, however, no guarantees."

"Oh." His hand descended gently on the clip. "Well, I wouldn't want you to endanger yourself, so I guess I'll have to take my chances."

Videl closed her eyes as raven-dark hair tumbled down over her shoulders, then shook her head instinctively. Goku pulled away slowly, clip in hand. Something deep in his eyes flickered. "Wow," he said.

Videl felt herself flushing and looked down at her toes. "I haven't brushed it in a while," she admitted.

Goku hesitated. As if on its own accord his free hand lifted, brushing away the locks framing her face. Videl held her breath as reality seemed to shift into surrealism. Sensations, previously ignored, became ridiculously magnified: the whisper of breeze against her skin, the brush of his fingertips, the feel of his breath on her cheek. After an eternity Goku pulled away, smiling uncertainly. "Sorry, I didn't mean…"

"It's okay," she said again. She sucked in a breath, suddenly aware of the dull pounding of her heart. "I didn't mind."

"It's just that you're so pretty. Gohan doesn't know what he's missing." He clapped his hands over his mouth. "I mean… sorry, Videl, I…"

She tried to remember the last time she'd been so amused and was largely unsuccessful. "It's okay. And maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. Maybe you should tell him."

"Maybe I will."

"I don't think he'll believe you."

"He'd better. I know these things."

"I don't think I believe you."

"You'll come around."

"She loves you, Goku," said Videl. Her tone had become grave, but the sympathy in her eyes lessened the severity in her expression. "No matter what it seems like, Chichi loves you. It may not show, but I'm sure she does."

He shook his head. Once again Videl was struck by the way the consternation transformed his face—alien, somehow: a look of solemn maturity on a face too young to bear its burden. "Chichi's always known what she wants," he said. "And what she doesn't."

"Nobody knows what they want all the time."

Goku looked down. A vague, distant corner of her mind noted how close their faces were. "One day Chichi's going to realize what she's missing out on," she continued softly. "One day she's going to realize what an incredible person you are, Son Goku. Then things'll be right again."

"Yeah," he said, and smiled. "You're right. I'm probably just being stupid. Again."

And he turned away, but not before the last of the sunlight caught the sheen over his eyes.

They said flying was like riding a bike: it was a skill that, once learned, was impossible to forget. Videl had not flown in years; priorities had manifested themselves in the forms of Pan, housework, and Pan again, respectively, and flying required an energy she simply wasn't able to give. When Videl tried again, it was the first time in years and she fell flat on her face. "Ow," she said.

Pan looked up from her gameboy. "That's not how you fly, Mom."

Videl picked herself up from the grass. The laundry was flapping tiredly in the wind; she would have to remember to put it inside later. "I know that, Pan."

Blips; Pan breathed something suspiciously akin to a curse and began punching the buttons. "Did you forget how?" she asked at length.

"It's not like a bike," she said.

"Do you want me to show you?"

"No." Videl went over to the nearest tree and braced herself against it. Energy was beginning to run down below the skin, sleepy. "I can do it."

Pan shrugged. "Don't kill yourself."

Videl closed her eyes. She twitched her fingers, and the energy surged forward again, this time more confidently. She was suddenly and forcefully reminded of all those summers ago, kneeling and wide-eyed, trying to draw ki from a source she hadn't even known existed. With her eyes closed the memory came back flawlessly, and she could sense the sunshine, and detect the scent of flowers and grassy fields, and hear the soft instruction, to make herself completely calm, and to listen, and then a pull…

Her eyes watered. She let the energy go and wiped them. "Damned allergies," she muttered.

Pan looked up again. "You sure you don't want help? 'Cause, you know, you look kind of stupid sweating and shaking and stuff."

"Thank you, Pan," she said. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Actually, now that you mention it…" Pan switched off the gameboy, tossing it carelessly back onto the lawn chair. "Bra and Marron invited me to a movie later this afternoon. We're gonna go out shopping before then. I might as well be early for once, there's nothing to do around here."

"Do you have money?"

"No." Pan's teeth flashed in a brilliant smile. "But Bra does. See ya later, okay? And be careful!"

She took off. Her aura was far brighter than what was necessary. "I wonder whose granddaughter she is," Videl muttered.

Wind rolled from the west, ruffling the hillsides. She sighed, centering herself with effort, and instinctively brought her hands together. Though she wasn't planning on drawing her energy out between her palms, she found that the familiar action –that action that had first helped introduce her to the concept of ki—helped kick-start the process. She was not disappointed. Her aura responded obediently, rushing down from her midsection to tingle between her toes. "Can you lift me?" Videl asked it.

No response, though the answer seemed to blossom from deep inside of her, confident. She rubbed the sweat off her forehead with the back of her wrist. Energy flickered merrily along her feet. "Okay," she said, "here goes."

She lifted into the air. At first the action was uncertain: having grown unused to balancing ki, she found herself embarrassingly unsteady for several seconds. After a while, though, her ki evened out, allowing her to float without any further difficulty. She exhaled, and was surprised to find that she was grinning. "I knew I could do it all along," she assured herself.

Something was batting gently at the edge of her senses. Reminded of the reason she had wanted to fly in the first place, Videl rose into the air, turning eastward. The air rushed through her hair and tugged at her clothing, pleasant. She felt a wave of bliss so intense it brought tears to her eyes. I'd forgotten how wonderful this is. Burying her elation, she allowed her arms to fall to her sides and flared her aura, sending herself rocketing through the sky.

She found him nearly half an hour later in an obscure lake north of the mountains. He was floating on his back in the middle of it, arms tucked behind his head, happily indecent in striped swimming trunks. "This is the center of the lake," he said as she descended. His face was freckled from sun; the barest hint of pink hinted at sunburn on his shoulders and chest. "If I were to dive down right now, there'd be a big plug at the bottom. It would be all slimy with algae and fish would be swimming around it giving me googly eyes, and it would have this big sign: 'pull me'."

She hovered near his feet, taking a look around. Surrounded by a series of hazy mountain rises, the lake was one of unseasonal and vulnerable beauty, like a guilty whisper of spring caught in something inherently wintry. Allowing her gaze to linger on the flowers aside the gravelly banks, she dipped a sandaled foot into the water. It was surprisingly warm. "What would you do?"

"I'd pull it, I guess. I mean, why make the trip if you're not going to pull it?" Goku lazily scratched at his forehead, then turned his palm out to block the sun as he smiled up at her. "Then the whole lake would get sucked down the drain, slurrp. And all the local fishermen would have a giant barbecue."

Videl rapidly moved her foot to swish the water up around her ankle. "I haven't heard you guys fighting recently," she said neutrally.

Goku let his hand drop. "Yeah. I guess… yeah, there's a reason for that. I haven't exactly been home for a while."

Videl was taken aback. "Goku…"

Goku mistook her surprise as disapproval. "I know, I know, it's really rotten of me. I just… I figured if I didn't come home, maybe Chichi would be happier. She always seems to hate having me around, so I thought I could make her happy by… not being around, I guess."

"Goku, that's not what I…" Videl shook her head slowly. "Goku. Where are you sleeping?"

"Gosh, I dunno… lots of places, really. These mountains are so awesome. Just last night a pterodactyl hatched her eggs. It was so cool. Me, I couldn't help much, but I stood guard anyway, just to make sure things went okay. But man, was it neat to watch!"

For all of his innate lightheartedness, Videl found that she seldom could stop worrying when she was around him. The thought was ironic, and that, coupled by his genuine excitement over the current topic, ended up coaxing a grudging smile from her. "Were they cute?"

"Oh, gosh, no. Pterodactyl babies are ugly as all get-out: all skin and beak."

"Sounds like me when I was a baby."

"Worse," he said, sunnily. "But, you know, whatever. Babies are babies. They don't have to look cute in order to be cute, they just sorta have it in them. Or maybe I just love kids. Makes me wish I'd…"

And he trailed off, uncharacteristically. Sensing the direction of his thoughts, Videl chose not to comment, instead dipping her other foot in the water and asking, "Have you managed to find anything for yourself to eat? Not having been home in such a long while…"

The gloom passed; he somehow managed a shrug. "Oh, this and that. Berries and stuff. We have some apple trees around here. Actually, I caught a bunch of fish yesterday. You should've seen them! They were about as big as the ox-king, but man, were they fast! It took me forever to catch them!"

"You should have come to stay with Gohan and me," she said softly.

"I really shouldn't, Videl. Besides, Gohan isn't there right now."

"Gohan's never there," she said. It was not as much bitter as it was matter-of-fact; grass is green. "And you know that, I think."

A pause. Goku kicked his way upright. "I have an idea," he said brightly. "Why don't you come in? You have to be hot from using your ki out in this sun, and I know it's cliché, but really, the water's fine, you saw."

"I'm not exactly dressed for it, Goku."

"Aw, that's okay, clothes wash."

"Not by themselves," said Videl, darkly.

"Then I'll wash them."

A nightmarish vision of Goku standing bewildered in front of a frothy washing machine, miniature all-pink clothing tumbling about his feet, left her feeling cold. "I'll manage, but thank you."

"So, how about it?" Goku looked hopeful. "Pleeeease? Nothing'll eat you, I swear. Except maybe the algae. And the man-eating clams. But I ate most of those this morning. Come on in."

Reluctantly, she slowly lowered herself into the water. Though it was at first a bit chilly on her midsection and around the inside of her elbows, it warmed up quickly. "Pretty wet, isn't it?" said Goku, straight-faced.

 "Quiet, you." Her clothing was tugging on her unpleasantly. She raised her ki slightly so that she floated more easily. "I don't know why I let you talk me into these things."

"Because you're not as responsible as you're trying to make yourself believe," he said merrily. He kicked his feet, beginning to paddle around in a lazy circle. "And I didn't know you were flying around again, by the way. That's cool."

Videl flinched as she felt something slip by her toes. "Yes, well, it's harder than I remember." 

"You haven't been training, so your energy's weak," he said frankly. "But I guess you didn't let that stop you, did you?"

"Pan sure got in a laugh or two."

"Pan." Goku's quick grin spoke volumes. "How is she, anyway? She hasn't come to see me a whole lot, lately."

"She's busy with her life, Goku," said Videl. Now that the water was warmer she could feel herself beginning to relax. "And I can't say I'm not a little relieved. I want her to be more than just some tough-fisted hit-woman. I want her to have a future."

"Is that what you think I'm turning her into?"

"Mm hmm." Videl leaned onto her back, then let her feet float up. The sky swirled lazily above her. "A cute little construction worker. She says we focus more on her grades than her, did you know that?"

"Do you?"

"Maybe. We probably do care about them a little too much. Probably Chichi's influence. Gohan's obsessed with schoolwork even when it isn't his."

"Such a waste of potential," Goku agreed wistfully.

"Yes, well." Videl closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of sunlight striking her skin. She was too pale, she knew: Goku had mentioned it before. "It helps pay the bills, so I try not to complain."

"Right."

Time passed in a comfortable series of lulls. It was several minutes later that the silence was broken by a splash at their side, resulting in a flurry of ripples. "That must have been an enormous fish," said Videl.

"Nah."

She opened her eyes. Goku was still floating serenely on his back, hands behind his head. "What was it, then?" she asked. "And don't tell me it was my imagination, because I'm neither deaf nor numb."

"A piece of the sky." He made a small sound of protest when she began to laugh. "Hey, I'm serious. It was a really, really small piece of the sky. You're lucky it missed you."

The clouds languidly twisted out and into shapes in a pallid mockery of freedom. Videl's smile was genuine. "Goku, the sky can't fall. It's made of gas."

"Everything can fall." He kicked a foot; began another circle. "Given time. It'll start falling and then they'll come, you know, all upset, to you and me, telling us to go back up and fix it."

She turned her head to look at him, enjoying the sensation of cool water on her cheek. His tone was somber, but the expression on his face was mischievous. "Okay," she said, playing along. "How would we go about it, then? Should we sew it back together? Duct tape it?"

"I was thinking of reinforcing it with chicken-wire."

"Staples?"

"Crazy glue," he said, and grinned suddenly. "Or spit! Yeah! A little spit and polish, and we can make it even better than before."

Videl shook her head, not bothering to suppress her laughter. "Sometimes I wonder if you're this crazy on purpose."

The current had gently carried Goku further away from her. She sensed a spike of ki zag downwards, abruptly anchoring him in place, and he pushed his way upright again, treading water easily. After a minute or so he said suddenly, "Seriously, though, if the skies started to fall, what would you do?"

 "Goku…"

"Really. I wanna know."

She surrendered to the pull, un-grounding her ki and allowing the water to carry her upright and begin pushing her toward him once more. "I don't know," she said. "It's not exactly something anybody's prepared for. I suppose I'd go around and help everybody get into someplace safe. It's bound to hurt if a piece of the sky lands on you."

"Videl the superhero." Goku grinned. "That sounds like you."

"Why? Wouldn't you do the same thing?"

He tilted his head. His wet hair, drying at an inhuman speed, was already jutting back up around his ears. "Sure I would," he said. "As for the sky… I guess I'd just have to fly by my seat on that one."

Videl glanced between his innocent expression and the serious look in his eyes, wondering which one to believe. "I don't think I understand," she said at last.

"I mean, it doesn't have anything better to do, right?"

"The sky?"

"Right."

"Than to fall?"

"Yup."

"Oh." She wasn't sure why she was so concerned over a topic so ridiculous. For some reason his answers were bothering her; not because of their flippancy, which she had come to expect from him, but for the tone; subtlety did not become Son Goku. She adjusted her ki so that she no longer had to tread water, taking the opportunity to study him a bit more closely. "So you don't really know what you'd do for the sky."

"Nope." A languid shrug of the water, and he was somehow turned away from her. "Like I said, everything can fall, and I figure it's gotta do it sometime, right? Maybe it doesn't want to be put back together. Maybe it wants to fall."

Unbidden, a chill settled in her stomach. "Goku…"

"'Course, then maybe a piece would come and smash up the house. That'd suck. Chichi'd yell at me for days, and kick me out and tell me not to come back 'til I fixed it, so maybe I'd have to do it eventually. Then again, maybe it would give her a reason to yell, instead of her having to come up with ones like she usually does, though I guess—"

Videl touched his shoulder. Goku started, then bobbed back around, looking sheepish. "Sorry, Videl, I guess I was yapping, huh? I don't mean to talk your ear off, I—"

"No," she said.

He stared at with a vague sort of incomprehension plastered across his features. As her gaze lingered, though, the expression grew jittery, twitching across his forehead and creating stress lines around his mouth, and after another minute he finally looked down, licking his lips uncertainly. "I just don't know what I'm doing wrong," he muttered. "What d'ya do when you've tried everything…?"

 Her insides roiled—not of sympathy for Goku or hatred for Chichi, but for a strange surge of longing to be anywhere, anyone, anytime else. "That's what I thought," she said.

He glanced up, surprised. "So what's your problem, Goku?" she asked, lowering her hand. Her voice was emotionless. "Chichi nags you too much? She comes after you, wanting something all the time? She's always trying to talk to you, trying to get you to do something?"

"Well, I… she…"

"Goku, I'm so sorry." The water began to push away from her; glass and silver. "Really. It must be terrible having someone pay so much attention to you."

Goku looked horribly confused. "Well, yeah, I… I mean, no, but I guess when you get down to—"

Videl shoved away from him, facing the mountains. The breath burned in her chest. "Damn you," she whispered. She fisted the sides of her hair. "Oh, damn both of you."

 She was not surprised to feel a tentative touch on her shoulder. "Hey, listen, I'm sorry," Goku was saying. "I shouldn't be complaining to you, I know you—I mean, you have enough to worry about. Listen, I know it probably doesn't count for much… and I probably don't know what I'm talking about… but I think that if you talk to him Gohan'll come around, he's a good boy, or maybe I can talk to him and—"

"Talk," she said. With a calm sort of detachment she felt the roots give way, leaving midnight strands to tuck around her fingers. "Of course."

Goku had gained the expression of someone who had just realized he was juggling explosives. "Unless you didn't want to talk, and that's okay, but I think it'd—"

"Is it that I'm not smart enough? Tough enough?"

"Videl…"

"Or is it just that? I'm not… I'm not enough? That must be it."

"C'mon, this isn't worth— Videl!" Goku jerked away as she suddenly spun with a snarl of rage, thrusting her hands forward. Light instantly exploded from between her fingers, splitting the lake into two and shivering down its sides. "Videl, what are you doing?"

"Videl, have you seen my ID? I need to get to work early this morning…"

"I know I said dinner, hon, but they're keeping me late tonight—you haven't gotten ready or anything, have you?"

"M'not really hungry… could you just stick it in the fridge for me? Thanks. And don't expect me to come to bed for a while, I've got a huge load of paperwork that I—"

Goku was shouting something at her. Videl ducked her head, lost on the roaring of blood past her ears and the rushing of the waves and the thunder of stone and soil exploding upwards, thrust up by sheer strength of will. Suddenly she could split the heavens and tear the seas, rape the land of its power, she could, and the frenzied realization gave rise to a feeling that was beyond everything she had ever felt and anything she could have possibly imagined. She sensed it as a fierce tug deep within her gut, as the force that crumbled the walls of her reserves into ash, as the heat that sent blisters charging down along the insides of her fingers…

"Mom, why's dad gone so much? I mean, you guys haven't gone out to do anything in, like, forever…'

"…it's just not practical anymore, Videl. We're responsible adults; we can't afford to be careless…"

"Not tonight, hon, please… you can't even imagine how tired I am…"

"… I have this great new theory, I should tell you about it sometime…"

"… seriously, Mom, you'd think you guys weren't even married—"

Someone grabbed a hold of her wrists firmly. The ki flow was jerked to a halt. Videl shrieked with fury, struggling against her captor. "Videl!" Goku yelled. "Dammit, stop! You're going to—"

"Worth?" She was startled to find herself crying in earnest. "Worth? How dare you talk to me about worth! At least she talks to you, Goku. At least she acknowledges you as someone to look at and not through or around. Is it so hard to remember that I'm a person too? Tell me!"

"Videl, please, I—"

Videl kicked him, feeling her foot connect soundly with his shin. Though she was sure he had barely felt it, it seemed to surprise him long enough that he momentarily loosened his grip. She seized the opportunity and tore away again, desperately throwing her whole body into the next wave of energy. This time it protested, prompting instinct to capture her lowest shred of ki and hold it firmly in place. A half-sob of frustration slipped past gritted teeth and she yanked. Something began searing across her ribs

—oh god oh god is that my heart  thats my heart—

and every inch of her tingled and ached and burned, and then reality shifted once more, allowing existence to tumble into little more than the steady stream of light and the pain clawing at the underside of her skin.

Afterwards she found it impossible to recall exactly when it happened. Goku had moved back slightly, she knew, in what had most likely been an attempt to give her space to calm down. When she showed no sign of ceasing, however, he abruptly flickered, leaving behind the wavering, sun-drenched after-image, and when conscious thought returned she found herself suddenly pressed against him and, more importantly, in his arms and aching from an embrace so intense it was bruising. Astonished, she slowly relinquished her hold on her ki. 

The waves reluctantly died down, spitting froth at their edges. Only after several minutes did Videl realize that they had stopped moving; Goku's ki was holding them firmly in place. Goku finally loosened his grip, but didn't release her. At first she thought it was done as a precaution and she opened her mouth to protest, but as a sudden wave of exhaustion hit her she realized he had known she would need support. "Damn you anyway, Son Goku," she whispered.

"I know," he said, barely audible. "But you said… you were basically saying you were worthless and I don't… I can't stand you talking like that, and I don't think you could be if you tried, Videl—at least, not worthless like me. Like I said, I know it doesn't count for much, but I think everybody should see what a great person you are, because you are, and I know these things. That is, I know—"

Despite her fatigue, through the enduring contact a new kind of electricity began to pulse through her, on the offbeats between the drumming of her pulse. As if sensing this he backpedaled abruptly, as if coming to himself. "Sorry," he said. His gaze lowered, unsteady on the water. "I guess I shouldn't be touching you like that."

Then his eyes flickered; Videl hadn't realized she had kicked her way closer to him until she was right in front of him, and by that time his chin was already in her hands. "Wait," she said. To her surprise, he did. She opened her mouth to say more, but her lower lip trembled abruptly, dashing the conviction from her approach. "W-Wait, I…"

The lake rippled sullenly around them. After a moment, Goku reached up to gently remove her hand. Unable to speak, she finally tilted her face upward. He blinked at her, then blanched. "Videl."

Videl swallowed hard against humiliation, suddenly finding herself unable to hold his gaze. "Tell me what it is that he finds so wrong with me," she pleaded.

"There's nothing wrong with you!"

Show me, but words failed once again, leaving her further on the brink of tears. She closed her eyes, keeping her face inclined. Show me.

A pause. She could feel his defeat in the light exhalation over her lips. "You'll hate me," he said quietly.

She knew he did not need spoken consent—he could read her emotions, and others' emotions, as easily as he could read his own. Sure enough, a moment later he leaned in. At the first touch of his lips she could immediately felt the suppressed strength, like the pressure behind a dam. After a moment she returned the kiss, and reality shivered to pieces. For the first time in years

            (yearsyears has it really been years?)

she felt her body move, and on their own accord her hands lifted to his shoulders. He growled into her mouth, and

_Videl_

in the midst of a sudden wash of memories of shy smiles and burning cheeks and hesitant moonsweet kisses, the memory of them came, sharp and searing like the cold flat of a blade

—he has his father's eyes—

for they were as dissimilar as they were completely identical, in angles, while one gaze had lost its alacrity and the other held too much pain for it to be called passion.

Caught between times, Videl finally hesitated. Her body, aching with a need that stemmed from both, protested the interruption.

"You'll hate me—"

(my heart thats why its my heart)

"… seriously, Mom, you'd think you guys weren't even married—"

(stop—)

It was whimper rather than anything truly audible, but Goku nevertheless pulled away, his grip around her waist instantly loosening. He was white-faced. "Oh, no," he whispered.

Videl blinked the water away from her eyes, reflexively dropping a spike of her remaining ki to ground herself once again, and tried desperately to slow her breathing. Goku was staring at her in something akin to horror—not for himself, she recognized with a pang, but for her, and what he thought he had made her do. Shoving herself away, she pushed her hair from her face with hands that shook. She felt wretchedly dizzy. "I can't do this to you," she whispered. "This is my fault. I shouldn't have forced you."

His arms were still outstretched as if he didn't know quite what to do with them. "Forced?" he said uncertainly.

The water felt hostile now, buffeting her with waves that had suddenly lost their warmth. She lowered her hands as the lightheadedness passed, leaving her with something far heavier. "You deserve better than to have to settle for something stolen," she said. Her voice was dull: syllables grey with a distracted sense of ruin. "I… I hate this, Goku. I'm not a saint. If I could do this without hurting, I would. If I could do it without feeling, I would have done it a long time ago, do you understand?"

His arms slowly lowered. Not trusting her resolve any longer, Videl somehow found the strength to lift herself from the lake, squeezing water from her clothing mechanically. He stared up at her uncertainly from under her shadow, eyes overbright. "But you hurt," he said. It was meek; a child's apology from between still-swollen lips. "You…you feel. He should know that you…"

"Yes, he should."

There was a measure of misery in his eyes, checked by an experience that was crushing. The lake around them rippled with stolen light; above it, the skies continued to roll by, relentless, and with a passion that surprised her she suddenly hated them both.

Maybe it doesn't want to be put back together. Maybe it wants to fall…

The longing returned once more, rapidly rebuilding her energy and pushing her further toward the sky. As she ascended she heard Goku's voice, thin under the mutter of the agitated shore and growing fainter with distance: "Maybe it would've been better if I hadn't have come back to…"

The sky shuddered in the indecisive mirror of water and disappeared over the mountains. Videl closed her ears, shut out meaning with a practiced shake of her head.

"Seriously, though, if the skies started to fall, what would you do?"

Somehow, under the chill beating across her ribs, she wasn't entirely sure she wouldn't just sit back and let it.

^**^**^

She can feel the passage of time as keenly as she can feel the chill of the night slap at her face as she opens the door. She welcomes him home dutifully; smiles, pats her hair into place as he asks for dinner, because yes, he's starving…

Yes, please, they say, and no, thanks; slide the vegetables to the side, allow the spoon to clatter back into the bowl of mashed potatoes. Don't make faces while you eat, Pan, it's rude… no, I haven't heard of that theory, you really are a genius, did you know that?… a new policy on the speed limit, now, you don't say…

And she adjusts her dress: overskimpy and midnight blue, baring unapologetically the alabaster curve of her shoulders and the graceful arch of her neck. He scrapes at his plate; any energy he might possess is focused on complimenting the food: Videl, honey, this is delicious…

And candles flicker sullenly and Pan chatters, I bought this and that today, and, really, I should get a job –I mean, Marron has one, and Bra… well, Bra doesn't need a job, but she says working at some places can get you lots of connections, and maybe I can meet a guy who's a decent match for me… totally unlikely, I know, but still, it sounds fun…

And the screech of wood against linoleum, the clatter of dishes ("s'cuze me, you guys, Bra's waiting…") and she sets down her fork as they lean into the silence like a cripple on a crutch. He finally looks up—briefly; says he'll get to bed early: he's tired, his head hurts, aren't you cold in that, Videl?

Dark eyes, a hesitant half-twitch in the smile. The wedding band feels heavy on her hand.

Across the way, both closer and farther than the horizon, he _is_, like a bright beacon of nothing at all.

(fin)