CHAPTER 11: Changed to remove offensive content.

Much to Gohan's tremendous relief, Videl answered the phone and not her ridiculous father. Hercule was under the impression that he was the strongest fighter in the world and that Gohan wanted his infinite wisdom. Also, Gohan didn't want to have to explain that he was hoping Videl would come to his house to spend the night. Videl seemed a little annoyed once she realized it was him, "I thought you were going to call me today. At lunch time."

Gohan slapped his forehead, "I'm sorry, Videl. I've been so busy today; I haven't had time to do anything."

"Had your nose stuck in a book all day, eh?" Videl assumed.

"I wish," Gohan sighed and was horrified to realize that he actually would rather be studying than running errands and keeping secrets for his parents and their friends. "I need a favor."

"You sound serious," Videl said, suddenly sobered of her anger, "I'll be right there." She hung up. Gohan leaned against the wall and sighed. This is why he loved Videl. Moments later she landed gently on his doorstep and knocked.

Gohan opened the door to his adorable, tough girlfriend. She was a lovely sight with her messy, cropped hair and loose, oversized T-shirt. He never wanted anything more than the comfortable relationship she offered him.

Videl looked around the domed domicile in shock. It was a complete mess. Gohan said, "My mother isn't here."

"Clearly," Videl snorted. Then she got an idea, "Oh my god, Gohan. Is this a booty call? Because you sounded really distressed and I'm not that kind of girl."

Gohan's face flushed red and he stammered to correct her, "N-n-no! Videl! No, gosh." He looked away a moment to regroup his thoughts. "I need you to babysit for me. My parents are in trouble and I only need a day or two to take them the supplies they need. But Goten and Trunks are here and I can't leave them alone."

"From the looks of it, all three of you can't be left alone," Videl clucked her tongue and walked to the living room, searching for a light, "Are all the lamps broken?" She asked, surprised and a little overwhelmed by his request.

If Gohan could have blushed any more, he would have. "I can pay you," Gohan said, "Please say you'll do this for me. I'll do anything."

Videl turned to him and flashed him an adorable smile, "Of course, Gohan. I'll watch them."

He hugged her so tight and spun in a circle, stepping in something gooey on the carpet. He sighed and wiped the chocolate pudding off his foot against the carpet. In for a penny, in for a pound. He picked up his flashlight and handed it to Videl and planted a kiss on her cheek, "Good luck. Don't let them push you around. I owe you big time."

He headed for the exit and Videl called after him, "Yes, you do. Be safe, Gohan!"

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Vegeta and Goku stood in a long line outside a box-office, waiting to buy tickets for the upcoming Murderstorm concert. Vegeta was beyond agitated. He didn't like waiting in line, or being in Goku's body, or hanging around this many humans. The humans that liked this band seemed extra terrible.

"I hate waiting in lines," Vegeta huffed, "What is it with Earthlings and waiting in lines?"

Goku was busy watching the group of teenagers next to him passing a homemade cigarette around. They caught him staring and one of them grinned at him and said, "Wicked hairdo, man," and handed him the cigarette to try.

Goku batted it away and turned to Vegeta. His stomach groaned with hunger. He clutched it and whined, "I'm hungry, Geta."

Vegeta stared him up and down and said, "Not now!"

Goku began to pout and look around at the food places nearby. He didn't like waiting in line either.

A smile spread across Vegeta's now adorable face. He had an opportunity to get rid of his constant companion for a few minutes. He opened his wallet and took out the last of his paper money and stuffed it into Goku's hand. It was worth it to have a few minutes of peace. He sent Goku across the street to get some food and wait for him. \

Finally, it was his turn in line. He walked up to the window and laid his gold card on the counter. "I need two tickets to that miserable Murderstorm concert," he said, "and do you have backstage passes for sale?"

"They are very expensive, sir," the young woman behind the counter issued a polite warning.

Vegeta held up two fingers and said, "I'll take two." He was never worried about money.

"Yes sir!" the woman chirped and punched in a few keys on the keyboard and took his card and swiped it through the machine. She made a face, "Sir, this card has been reported stolen."

"Ridiculous!" Vegeta said, swipe it again.

The woman swiped it once more through the machine. She looked up at him and quirked an eyebrow; her sunny disposition completely vanished. "Do you have some ID, sir?"

"This is a mistake," Vegeta said, pulling out his wallet finding the little plastic card that somehow proved identity to these humans. He handed it over to her, waiting for her apology.

The young woman looked from the card to Vegeta several times and then pursed her lips in anger, "This isn't you," she said in disgust, "I'm going to alert the authorities."

"Wait, wait, of course that isn't me!" Vegeta said quickly, "But he's with me." He spun around to look for Goku and remembered that he had sent him off to find food somewhere. "Blast it! Where is he?" Vegeta muttered. He turned back to the woman and said, "Give me those backstage passes!"

She hit a button that caused metal shutters to slam shut over all the windows. Vegeta shouted and punched one, causing it to buckle. He heard police sirens in the distance and took to the skies—no longer worried about what these earth people thought of him.

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Bulma was tired of her husband assuming that she could be cast aside. She also didn't like the way his highness was treating her like a piggy bank for his misadventures! So, while Chichi paced the floor of the hotel room until the carpet grew bald, Bulma spent an hour reporting every single credit card in her husband's possession as stolen. She was very satisfied with her plan to ruin his day.

She finished and turned to the Dragon Radar again. All the parts were laid out on the small dining table in the corner of the hotel room. They were completely dry now and Bulma thought with a little the help of her tool chest they would be up and running again. "Where do you think Gohan is?" She asked Chichi.

"What?" Chichi said, snapping out of her trance. Bulma's words sunk in and she sighed, "I don't know. It should be any time now." She drew back the heavy curtains and looked out the large window toward the darkening sky. She wanted to get the dragon balls badly. Over the years Goku found plenty of occasions to mess up. He had been killed, spent whole years in training, dragged her children into horrible battles and gotten himself pulverized time and time again. Sure, he saved the world in there a few times, but she had put up with more than most wives would have been willing to endure. However, she drew the line at living with him in Vegeta's body.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a streak in the sky. She ran to the door to greet Gohan as he arrived with the toolkit in his hand. "Hi, mom!" Gohan beamed as he landed and Chichi wrapped her arms around him tight.

"Gohan!" Chichi exclaimed, "You made it!"

Bulma took the toolkit from him while Chichi drilled him on the boys back home. He assured her that they were safe in Videl's hands for now. Gohan sat on one of the beds and said, "Where are dad and Vegeta?"

Bulma waved her hand around in annoyance and said, "Gone!" Her face was still down, trying to fix the radar.

Gohan turned to his mother and put on his serious voice, "Mom, I'm not great at keeping the boys entertained. Do you think you could come home now? Our house doesn't function very well without you."

Blushing, Chichi cupped Gohan's face in her small hands and smiled, "Oh Gohan, that is sweet. But you'll understand when you are married someday that I can't go home. Sometimes a wife has to prove to her husband that she can hold her own. And if your father thinks he can—"

"AH-HA!" Bulma shouted and leapt from the table, "It's fixed!" She held out the beeping radar for inspection. Chichi clasped her hands and gave up her lecture to Gohan in favor of a celebratory dance with Bulma.

"You know ladies," Gohan said quickly, "if you give me the radar, I'd be happy to go join Dad and Vegeta and help them recover the final balls."

"Gohan, you have to get home right this minute and rescue Videl from the boys," Chichi said, pointing to the door.

Gohan's jaw dropped, "I just got here."

Bulma pushed the teenaged half-saiyan toward the door and said, "You get home and take care of Trunks and your brother. Those boys are too much for one teenage girl to handle. Don't you worry about us; we can take care of ourselves."

There was little time to protest. By the time Gohan got a word in edgewise, he was talking to the paint peeling off the hotel door. He grumbled and took off toward home. As he soared off, he heard his mother shout something about studying and raised his energy level another notch so he could fly away even faster.