Hello, dears. I’m Dasia, some of you may know me as Talon’s twin sister. I’ve posted on Saiyan Slash before, but it’s been quite awhile. I’m one of the lucky few who’ve been allowed to write in her Birth of a Prince universe, and you may find my previous effort, Russian Roulette (along with some DBZ fics of my own) at For-chan’s site, http://cookies.forchan.net/

This ficlet is a part of Talon’s Birth of a Prince AU…her chibi, Sage, is not mine, but I use him with her permission.

Special thanks, as always, to Talon…for letting me be the mother of her child, and for all the wonderful things that she does for me, and for being the best twin sister/fiancée a girl can have!…

also, to the ever lovely Nightcat-chan, to whom this fic is dedicated…because she loved it so, and because I love her so, and bless her neko heart, she drew some awesome piccies for me.

Warnings include: cursing…cruelty to Yamcha…demi-Saiyjins behaving badly…references to hot Saiyjin monkey sex…cursing…ki blasts…alligators…did I mention cursing?!?!

Anyway, enjoy, and please let me know what you think? Gomen nasai, minna-san (bows)

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The Unholy Trio—A Day at the Zoo

Bulma Briefs was past being overwhelmed. She was outnumbered, outgunned, and outclassed, and her three young sons knew it. It was a full moon, and that meant their fathers would be “away” during the day. They would be back that evening, in order to help the boys control the urge to transform to Oozaru., but Bulma wasn’t sure she could last that long. Once a month, Goku and Vegeta went off to have hot monkey sex, a fact that never failed to piss off Bulma. “Fucking assholes, need to quit screwing and come take care of these hellions, “ she mumbled.

The three demi-Saiyjins were a handful, even on good days, but during the full moon, they were coiled as tight as springs. The boys had awakened at 5:30 a.m., and hadn’t slowed down since.

“SLOW DOWN!” Bulma yelled as Sage tore through the dining room, Trunks and Goten following closely on his heels. She was setting out breakfast plates, although it was nearly 11 o’clock. The famished chibis were amusing themselves by playing “Tag”.

“I mean it!!” she screeched helplessly, the boys never slowing their pace. Sage was shrieking with laughter, Goten and Trunks staying far enough behind that they never actually caught up with him.

After a few more laps around the table, Sage stopped in front of his mother, crossing his arms. His brothers crashed into him, and they all fell into a large heap. Sage scratched and bit his way out of the pile, the other boys yelping and skittering away from him.

Sage rose to his full height, attempting to regain his composure. The sight of his mussed hair and wrinkled pajamas sent Goten into a gale of giggles. Trunks smirked at his baby brother, who was pretending not to notice either of them. Sage said grumpily, “Kassan, I’m hungry. Where’s breakfast, dammit?”

Bulma stared down at her little three-year-old princeling, and answered, “It’s nearly ready, Sage. Be patient. I’m trying my best, and I need you to give me a break, okay?”

Sage sniffed, and answered in an exact replica of his father’s imperious tones, “Quit making excuses, onna, and get busy. It doesn’t take Grandma this long…you didn’t burn it, did you?” His sensitive nose had already detected the scent of burnt toast, but Bulma wasn’t going to admit defeat.

Through clenched teeth, she said, “I didn’t burn anything. Why don’t you boys go wash your hands, and when you get back, I’ll have your food ready.” Turning her back, she began to count softly to ten, then to twenty, then to one hundred, struggling to rein in her temper.

Bulma was not a good cook, in fact, she was a horrible cook. Her mother had always taken care of feeding the family, and Bulma had neither the time nor the inclination to learn the subtle art. She always managed to scorch the pots, or set the oven on fire, or use salt instead of sugar. The blue haired woman was a genius inventor, but the food she prepared all tasted like sawdust. This was especially hard on her, being the mother of three growing Saiyjins, all of whom expected gourmet meals in massive quantities.

She carried the platters of food into the dining room, knowing from long experience that she should fill up her own plate first. Eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, cold cereal, milk, orange juice…this was a small breakfast. Mrs. Briefs was known to wake up before dawn in order to cook all the food needed to fill Saiyjin bellies. Goku, Vegeta, and Gohan’s absence had given the older woman a much-needed break.

Bulma stopped what she was doing, as an unfamiliar sound reached her ears. Silence. Utter, beautiful, exquisite silence…

“TRUNKS, GOTEN, SAGE!!” she bellowed.

Tranquility at Capsule Corp. could mean only one thing…trouble. Hushed giggles and aborted shrieks were evidence of mischief afoot, and Bulma took off down the hall. She rounded the corner to the boys’ bathroom, nearly slipping on the large puddle of water that had meandered into the hallway.

“You little…” she began, trailing off. Bulma bit her lip, trying not to laugh at the kawaii scene laid out in front of her. Sage was perched on the bathroom sink, his small feet splashing in the water. Goten and Trunks were drenched, their wet clothes clinging to their bodies. Water was all over the bathroom floor, and the trio was looking in the mirror at their dripping heads.

“Look at your HAIR!” Goten screamed with laughter, pointing at Trunks’ sodden hair.

Trunks poked out his bottom lip, but said arrogantly, “At least my hair only looks stupid when it’s wet!”

Bulma heaved a large sigh, “I asked you to wash your hands. That’s all. Did you have to flood the entire house?”

The boys didn’t look the least bit ashamed. Bulma gave up. It wasn’t worth arguing about. “Look, you boys go sit down at the table and eat. Don’t make a mess, don’t get down from the table until you’re done, and DO NOT touch my food.”

Bulma reached over to help Sage down from the counter, and he began to protest violently. “Let me go, Kassan, I don’t need help, I can get down by myself!” Spitting and yowling, Sage finally had to pinch his mother’s arm in order to get away.

Bulma looked pained, and pointed the boys in the direction of the dining room, barking out, “MARCH!”

Looking at Sage for confirmation, Trunks and Goten didn’t move a muscle until his chin dipped slightly. The boys filed away, the little prince climbing onto his older brother’s back. “I was hungry anyway,” he threw over his shoulder, getting the final word.

His hapless mother stared balefully at the mess surrounding her, and considered pulling out her hair. “I’m not going to survive this. How much longer until their fathers come home?” she whined, closing the bathroom door. “I’ll clean this up later…much later.”

When she sat down at the table, Bulma marveled at just how much food the boys had already packed in. Even after all these years, it was still amazing to watch the Saiyjins and demi-Saiyjins eat. “Trunks, chew your food, there isn’t a fire, “ she admonished, then noticed Goten’s face, “Goten, you have a napkin, sweetie, please use it. I think you have egg in your hair.”

Sage, like his father, was a meticulous eater, but he was still too small to see over the table’s edge. He had decided that he was now too old for the booster seat, so he was forced to sit on his knees. It was uncomfortable, and he shifted and fidgeted constantly, “Sage…honey…could you stop that? Just sit still, okay?” Sage didn’t answer, his glare speaking volumes.

The table was unnaturally quiet without Goku’s incessant chattering and Vegeta’s sarcastic comments. “You guys want to do something today?” she asked. The boys shook their heads listlessly, but before they could answer, the telephone rang. Bulma answered, “Hello, Briefs/Vegeta/Son residence. Who’s calling?”

The boys shot glances back and forth during their mother’s conversation, annoyed that she wasn’t paying attention to them. Sage finished his food first, and began staring intently at his mother. Suddenly, Bulma was seized with the feeling that she was being watched. She swiveled her head and look directly into the eyes of her youngest son. “What??” she mouthed. He shook his head, but didn’t look away. Bulma once again turned around, but was completely unnerved.

A slight smile graced the features of young Vegeta, as he surveyed the room. When Baka and Tou’tan were away, Sage reigned supreme. Trunks would attempt a coup from time to time, but Sage was not easily deposed. He was king…and the sooner his subjects realized that, the better off they would be.

Trunks hissed, “What’s she saying? Who is that?” Goten, as usual, looked utterly perplexed, but Sage merely shrugged. He was not concerned with Kassan’s ridiculous pattering, he wanted to go spar with his brothers. Of course, they didn’t call it that, oh no. Kassan would have kittens if she found out her little Sage was fighting. Sage heaved a large sigh. It was ridiculous, the way she treated him. As if he were a chibi…

“Hey, chibi!” Trunks whispered, kicking Sage’s foot, “WHAT is she saying?”

Sage glared, “Don’t kick me, Trunks, ‘less you want to lose that foot. I’m not listenin’ to Kassan, I don’t know what she’s saying. And, DON’T call me chibi.” Trunks stuck out his tongue, and Sage fumed.

Bulma finally got off the phone, but she immediately leapt to her feet, and began clearing the breakfast plates. “You boys, hurry and get dressed. We’ve got to head over to Capsule Corp. Central…I’ve got an important deal coming through, and they need me to close it.”

Trunks eyed his mother warily, “This is gonna take a LONG time, isn’t it?”

“No. Well, I hope not. Look, go wash up and put on some decent clothes. I’ll be up in a moment to help you get dressed.”

Sage’s clear voice rang out, “I don’t want to go.”

Goten nodded his head, “I don’t either, Bulma-san…can’t we stay with Trunks’ Grandma and Grandpa?”

“Honey, I wish you could, but my mom is at some Garden Show today, and my dad is in his workshop. He won’t be able to keep an eye on all of you, he gets distracted too easily,” Bulma carried the dishes into the kitchen, and hurriedly threw them in the sink.

Trunks queried innocently, “What about Go-chan?” He and his brothers had all been given the “heat” and “full-moon” talks by their fathers…but it was hilarious watching Bulma’s attempts to skirt the issue.

True to form, Bulma’s nose turned as blue as her hair, “Gohan is…well…he’s with Piccolo…they are…sparring…” she trailed off and hurried back to the dining room.

Trunks followed behind her, “So what! Call him up and tell him to come home. We don’t want to go with you, Mom. It’s gonna be boring and it’ll take forever.”

Bulma was becoming exasperated, “Trunks. That’s enough. It’s a full moon, and Gohan can’t be here. Your fathers will probably be home later this evening to watch after you guys, but until then, we’re stuck with each other.” She pointed up the stairs, “Go get dressed like I asked.”

Sage spoke again, “I want to stay here. We could stay by ourselves.”

Bulma blinked. She blinked again. Then she burst out laughing. “Oh, Sage, that’s a good one. I don’t trust any of you boys farther than I can throw you. There is no way you’re staying alone.”

Sage was preparing to throw a tantrum, but was interrupted by the opening of the front door. “Hey, Bulma!” Yamcha yelled, “You in here?”

“Yeah, hon. I’m in the dining room!” Bulma called back to him. The boys all rolled their eyes at exactly the same time. If there was one thing that they all agreed upon, it was that Yamcha was the biggest moron that ever walked. Their mother had been dating Yamcha off and on for nearly three years now, with no plans of marriage. This suited the boys just fine.

Trunks nudged Goten and whispered, “What does THAT asshole want?” Goten shrugged, but began giggling. He hid his face behind Trunks’ shoulder, but not before Yamcha caught sight of him.

“Hey, little guy!” he said, kneeling down to the boys’ level. Goten turned his face, but had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Sage had once said something about Yamcha’s face looking as if it had been attacked by wombats, and Goten had never gotten over it. He was seized with laughter EVERY single time he looked at the scarred ningen.

Yamcha was oblivious, he was convinced that the kids adored him. However, the general consensus was that this family had enough father figures in it, thank you very much, and Yamcha’s continued attempts to play “Daddy” were not met with any enthusiasm.

Sage stepped to the side as Trunks and Goten were locked into Yamcha’s embrace. “C’mere and give me a hug, Sagey, “ he said, motioning with his head. If looks could kill…the ningen’s days were numbered.

“Fuck you,” Sage said haughtily. No one called him Sagey…it was babyish and silly and it just wasn’t his name. “My name is Sage…but YOU will call me Vegeta.” His tone of voice brooked no defiance.

“Oh, well, excuse me, little man, didn’t mean to ruffle your feathers, “ Yamcha quipped, reaching out a hand to muss Sage’s hair.

Trunks and Goten cringed, backing away slowly. Sage’s tail lashed out and gripped the ningen’s wrist. “Don’t even think about it.” The hold was strong enough that Yamcha was wincing from the pain. “I am NOT little. My Tou’tan says I’m just right.”

“Okay, my bad, sorry….let go, please, Sage, “ Yamcha began to sound panicked, as Sage’s grip only tightened, “Umm…you aren’t little, you’re a big boy.”

“What else?” Sage asked menacingly.

Yamcha looked bewildered, “What?”

“What’s my name?” he asked, as Yamcha’s fingers turned blue from the constriction.

“VEGETA! Let go of Yamcha right this instant!!” Bulma’s strident tones rang out, and Sage remembered that he had an audience.

“Wasn’t gonna hurt him,” he mumbled, but couldn’t stop himself from adding, “Much.”

Bulma pointed at Sage and admonished, “Don’t think because your fathers aren’t here, that I won’t punish you. You don’t want to make me angry.”

Sage turned his back to her, without comment. He made a step toward the stairs, but was halted by Yamcha’s hand on his shoulder. “Son, your mother hasn’t given you permission to leave. Show some respect.”

Sage raised an eyebrow, “Don’t you learn anything? I don’t want you touching me…and, I’m NOT your son. I have a Tou’tan and a Baka, and that’s all that I need.”

Trunks put himself in between Yamcha and Sage and growled, “He doesn’t like it when you do that…stop it right now.” Goten put a hand on his little brother’s shoulder, tail bristling slightly.

Sage broke the tension by saying, “I’ve got to take a piss, asshole. You wanna let me go to the bathroom, or you want me to do it right here?”

Bulma was aggravated, “That’s outside of enough! You boys go get dressed…and leave the attitudes upstairs, please.” The boys all groaned loudly, and flounced up the stairs to their room.

“Yamcha, I’m so sorry, “ Bulma said, after the children had left the room, “I don’t know what gets into Sage sometimes…maybe it’s because of the full moon.”

She took his injured hand into hers for a moment. Then she yelped, “OH KAMI, I almost forgot!!” She flung Yamcha’s hand away from her, and bounded up the stairs.

“Honey,” he called, “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t have time to talk to you now, I’ve got to go to the Central Office to finish up a sale. I don’t have anyone to watch the kids, so they’re coming with me.”

Yamcha thought for a moment, then offered, “That’s not necessary, Bulma. I could keep the kids while you go.” The thought that flickered in his brain was that if Bulma saw how well he handled the children, she would be impressed and grateful…Yamcha grinned slyly as he thought of the ways Bulma expressed her gratitude.

Bulma poked her head out of the bedroom door, laughing so hard she could hardly stand up, “Oh, yeah, THAT’S a great plan, Yamcha. I leave you alone with three demi-Saiyjins, and I’ll come back to a heap of burning rubble. Those monsters will chew you up and spit you out. Thanks, but I don’t think so.”

Yamcha looked insulted, “Bulma, I think I can handle three little boys, Saiyjins or no. It’s not a big deal. Nothing will happen.”

“You’re right, nothing will happen, because I’m not leaving the boys with you, “ Bulma’s voice was rising sharply.

The trio heard the commotion, and ran out of their room to see what was going on. Yamcha said, “C’mon, I’ll take them to eat or something. We’ll go to a movie…no, wait…the zoo! That’ll be fun, the boys will like that.”

Identical evil grins spread across three young faces, as they each had the same idea. It was a bad idea…it was a horrible idea…it was a PERFECT idea. Trunks nudged Goten, who nudged Sage. The sons of Vegeta stared at each other for a moment, until finally, Sage nodded his head in approval.

Bulma, meanwhile, was close to falling on the ground, she was laughing so hard. With one arm, she braced herself on the doorway, and said, “You’ve got to be kidding me, right? Even Goku and Vegeta won’t take them to the zoo! Yamcha, these boys are not easy to deal with on their best days, much less near the full moon. No, I’m sorry, but I can’t let them go with you, honey.”

Trunks surprised her by piping up, “I want to go, Mama. I’d like to go to the zoo with Yamcha.” He looked at her with those baby blue eyes, his bottom lip poked out slightly, and Bulma had a hard time saying “No”, but she did manage to do it.

The boys weren’t discouraged. However, it was time to bring out the big guns.

Goten’s ebony eyes filled with tears as he pleaded, “Oh, please, Bulma-san! I want to go with Yamcha-san to the zoo…pretty please?” He batted long dark eyelashes at her, all to no avail.

“No.” she barked, becoming steadily more and more aggravated..

No problem for the trio, this was only a minor setback. They still had their secret weapon.

Sage stared at his mother for a moment, then said simply, “We’re going.”

Bulma’s laughter ceased abruptly. She stood up, and prepared herself for coming battle. “Sage, you are not going with Yamcha, not today. Maybe some other day, when your fathers are home.”

“I don’t want to go another day, Kassan. I want to go to the zoo right now. The ningen said that he would take us.”

Bulma sighed, “You boys aren’t well-behaved with me, so I can imagine what will happen if I send you off with Yamcha. No, it’s not happening. Discussion closed.”

Sage glowered at his mother, but Goten jumped in before he could say anything. “Bulma-san, we’ll be good, I promise! We’ll die if you don’t let us go!” He clasped his hands together, and it was all Bulma could do not to start laughing again.

Sage, annoyed at his bond-brother’s display, snorted, “We don’t need permission. We’re going and that’s that.” He pivoted on his heel, and marched proudly down the stairs. Trunks and Goten followed closely behind.

Bulma shook her head, “Didn’t I just say that they couldn’t go? Why does no one around here listen to a word I say? That boy acts like he owns the place.”

Yamcha took the boys’ acquiescence as a good sign, and used it to his advantage, “Oh, Bulma, don’t worry about it. The boys are excited about the trip, and I’m sure they’ll be fine. I’ll take my cell phone, and if something comes up, I’ll call you. How’s that?”

Bulma gave in. “Okay, fine. But this is a bad idea. A VERY bad idea.” She grabbed a piece of paper and a pen off of her desk and started writing down numbers.

She mumbled to herself, “Police…fire…poison control…hospital…emergency room…pediatrician…my cell…Capsule Corp…Dad’s cell…Mom’s beeper…Krillen’s cell…Master Roshi…Gohan’s cell…Goku and Vegeta’s cell…” she trailed off, looking up at Yamcha, “On second thought, whatever you do, whatever happens…don’t call that number.”

Bulma quickly scratched the number off of the list and said, “You call everyone on this list, but do not call Goku or Vegeta. Not if you want to live.”

“Sweetheart, nothing is going to happen! There isn’t any need for you to be concerned…” Yamcha began, but was interrupted by Bulma’s shrill voice.

“Listen up, you. I’m trusting you with my children, and I expect them to come home in one piece. If you get in a situation that’s over your head, you call somebody. Yamcha, you had better treat each one of those boys as if he were the seventh dragonball. If anything, and I mean ANYTHING, happens to my babies, you won’t have to worry about the Saiyjins pulling you apart. I’ll tear your throat out myself. Got me?” she finished sweetly.

Yamcha's eyes widened as he stammered, "Y…y…yeah, Bulma…I got you. I'll treat them as if they were my own."

Bulma shook her head, "This won't end well. I don't know why I'm agreeing to this. Yamcha, you aren't dealing with normal children. This is the unholy trio we're talking about. Be prepared….for anything." She grabbed her purse and rifled through it for a moment. "Okay, here's my credit card, and some cash. You'd better take my van, here's the keys."

Yamcha argued, "Hon, I'll pay for the kids, you don't have to…"

Bulma grinned, "Yamcha, it would take all of your paychecks for a month, just to feed those boys for a day. Trust me, you'll need the money. Besides, I'm sure they'll want souvenirs and all that other crap. Just take it." She handed the money and keys to Yamcha, who took them reluctantly.

The pair walked downstairs, thinking that they would find the boys in the living room. They were nowhere to be seen. Bulma shrugged, "They must really be excited, if they're already waiting outside."

The demi-Saiyjins were clustered together, talking and gesturing wildly. Sage looked on, nodding his head from time to time. Fear pitted in Bulma’s stomach. "Boys, what are you up to?" she asked warningly. They looked up innocently, as if butter wouldn't melt in their mouths.

Trunks said quickly, "Nothin', Mama. We just can't wait to go to the zoo, can we?" He looked meaningfully at his siblings, who bobbed their heads in agreement.

Bulma eyed them warily, but finally shrugged off her feelings of anxiety. She was a little relieved that she wouldn't have to deal with the unruly boys, and didn't really want to give up her new-found freedom. "Alright, monsters, " she said, kissing each of her boys, "I expect you to mind Yamcha just as you would mind your fathers."

Goten gulped loudly, and Trunks elbowed him in the mid-section. "We will, Mama," he promised guilessly.

Yamcha grinned, “See, it’ll be fine…”

Bulma snorted, then grabbed Yamcha’s elbow and pulled him over to the side, “Watch the little one. He’s a Vegeta, from his head to his toes. He just looks cute and helpless. Take my word for it, all of their plans begin with Sage. I’m telling you, don’t underestimate him.”

Yamcha patted her back soothingly, “We’ll be fine…have a good day, honey, we’ll see you tonight.”

Bulma turned to go inside, stopping inside the doorway to look back at her boys. She thought to herself, "Damn, they're cute…but they've got something up their sleeves. Well, Yamcha better get used to it, I suppose. This will be a good test to see how he deals with them." She shut the door behind her, and ran to finish getting dressed.

Meanwhile, Yamcha and the demi-Saiyjins were taking a moment to size each other up. Sage was clearly unimpressed with the ningen. Goten and Trunks kept looking away and guffawing, not even trying to suppress their mirth. “What’s so funny?” Yamcha asked hopefully.

Sage’s glance was withering, “Your face.”

Yamcha looked taken aback, and Sage continued, “Start the car, dammit. This was your idea, so let’s get a move on. I don’t have all day.”

Trunks and Goten nearly fell on the ground, they were laughing so hard. Yamcha’s face turned a bright crimson, and he said, “Umm…look, Sage, I know we started off badly today. I’m sorry if I upset you…”

“Tch. You didn’t upset me, you pissed me off. Can we just go?” Sage said.

“Okay…um…well….sure, I guess, “ Yamcha wasn’t sure what to make of the boy that stood before him. The kid wasn’t like any three-year old that he had dealt with before. This child was…smart. Not to mention clever, obstinate, and demanding. In fact, it was becoming clear to Yamcha that Sage had inherited more from his father than just his looks and stature.

Yamcha slid open the rear door of Bulma’s car, and turned to Trunks and Goten. “Come on, guys, you hop in first.”

Trunks raised an eyebrow, “You’ve got to be kidding. Why can’t we just fly? Cars are so…slow.”

Yamcha explained, “You boys can’t fly yet, and I can’t carry all of you.” Trunks heaved a sigh, and flounced over to the van.

He helped buckle Goten’s seat belt, and made sure Trunks had fastened his belt tightly. It seemed that Yamcha was a little fearful of the consequences, should something happen to one of the Briefs/Son kids. Yamcha turned to Sage and called in a high voice, “Sagey, come and get in your car seat!”

Sage didn’t move. He crossed his arms, his tail moving lazily from side to side. “You’re out of your mind. I’m not riding in a car seat. That’s for babies.”

Yamcha blinked. “Sage, your mother has this car seat in here for a reason. Quit arguing and get in the damn car.”

Sage’s tail bristled, but his voice remained calm. “My Tou’tan would pull your teeth out if he heard you curse at me. You’d better hope I don’t tell him about it. I’m not riding in the fucking car seat, and you can’t make me. I’d love to see you try.”

The scarred ningen took a step forward, and Sage lifted his chin in defiance. He fisted his tiny hands at his sides, and readied himself for a fight. Yamcha stopped in front of the chibi-Vegeta and kneeled down, “Look, Sage. I don’t want to argue with you. You don’t want to ride in the car seat, that’s just fine with me. But when your brains are splattered all over the asphalt, don’t come crying to me.” He smirked slightly as he finished.

Sage snorted, “I’ll be dead, asshole, and you’ll be the one who’s crying. My Tou’tan and Baka would have your ass if something happened to me. I suggest that you drive really carefully, and then we won’t have anything to worry about.”

“I’ve known Goku since he was a little boy, he’s one of my best friends…and I’m NOT afraid of your father, “Yamcha said snidely.

“You should be, “ Sage warned.

Meanwhile, Goten and Trunks took matters into their own hands. “Kami, the zoo will be closed before Sage even gets in the car. Let’s just get rid of the damned car seat,” Trunks suggested.

Goten nodded, then added, “How come Yamcha wants to fight with Sage anyway? It’s not like he can win.”

Trunks grunted, wrestling with the seat belt. “Ugh…I can’t get this…damn…thing…undone. Goten, give me a hand.” Goten leaned over and tried to undo the catch. The boys both pushed at the same time, to no avail. Trunks continued, “I don’t know, I think he wants to fight Tousan, but he can’t. So he fights the little version of Tousan.”

Goten’s eyes got big and he said in awe, “Trunks…you’re really smart.”

Trunks grinned and said, “I know.”

In the background, Yamcha and Sage were still trading barbs, and Trunks threw up his hands in frustration. “Screw it. Let’s just ki-blast it.”

Goten’s smile was feral. He loved to destroy stuff, even more than Trunks or Sage. “Let me?” Trunks acquiesced, and Goten formed a small ball of ki in his right hand.

“Umm…Trunks? You might wanna move out of the way. I’m not sure how much I need to use…”Goten voice trailed off thoughtfully.

Trunks backed up, saying, “As long as you don’t blow up Mom’s van, I think you’re okay. Just go for it.”

Goten’s face screwed up with concentration, and he sent the tiny orb flying. Both boys flung an arm over their eyes at the bright flash of light. A slight hissing noise made Trunks open his eyes. “Oh, shit!! Goten, you set the car on fire!!” he yelled, smacking at the flames licking along the seat cushion.

Goten came to his aid, and the fire was quickly stamped out. There was no sign of the car seat, although there was now a smoldering hole in the back seat. “Man, you’re gonna be in SO much trouble.” Trunks said.

Goten sighed loudly, but he wasn’t really anxious. Bulma-san wouldn’t be angry with him, she’d probably just get onto Trunks for letting him do it…his “innocent” look only worked on her, Vegeta and Goku had long ago wised up. Goten was just as capable of mischief and mayhem as his brothers were.

Trunks motioned for Goten to follow him, and the boys stepped out of the van and into the sunlight. Their eyes widened at the incongruous sight that was laid out before them. Three-year old Sage, who only came up to the middle of Yamcha’s thigh, had balled up his fist and was preparing to strike a blow to Yamcha’s …sensitive… areas.

Trunks powered up and rushed to his brother’s side. He took Sage’s elbow, but it was quickly torn away from his grasp. “Leave me alone, Trunks, this doesn’t concern you!” Sage yelled, but Goten took the opportunity to grab him by the shoulders.

As the two wrestled, Trunks leaned into his brother’s ear and whispered, “Dammit, save it for later. We stick to the plan, and we can get this asshole out of our lives forever.”

Sage did not answer, but he did relax his muscles, and stand back. Goten sighed in relief, and let his bond-brother go. As soon as he did, Sage lunged toward Yamcha, only to be caught by Trunks, who hissed, “Don’t fuck this up, chibi, just because you can’t hold your temper.”

Sage growled, low in his throat, but Trunks wasn’t intimidated. He knew that Sage’s anger was much like Vegeta’s, quick to start, and slow to finish. You just had to know how to calm them down. Goten put a hand on Sage’s shoulder, and whispered softly into his ear, “You could kick his ugly ass any day, no problem. But I think the plan will be much more fun, don’t you?”

As soon as it had begun, Sage’s temper abated. He looked at the clueless ningen, and said, “I’m ready to go now. Quit fucking around and start the car.”

Yamcha shot back, “You may rule your parents, brat, but you don’t rule me. We aren’t going anywhere until you get in that car seat.” He folded his arms and looked smugly at the young Vegeta.

Sage growled, and looked ready to fight again, but Trunks jumped in, “What fucking car seat?? There isn’t one…take a look and see.” He pointed at the back seat of the van, and hoped that Yamcha wouldn’t notice the still-smoking upholstery.

The ningen did not turn around, just continued staring at Sage, trying to intimidate the three-year old prince. He said, “Trunks, don’t try to fool me. I wasn’t born yesterday, you know. There is a car seat, and this little gaki is going to ride in it, or he’s going to stay behind.”

Goten stepped in front of the snarling and spitting Sage and said reasonably, “Yamcha-san, we know you weren’t born yesterday. You’re WAY too old. But Trunks is telling the truth, there is not a car seat. We would never lie to you.” Goten’s dark eyes widened, and his lower lip trembled. “You do believe us, don’t you?”

Yamcha caved. Few can resist Son kawaiiness…and this was a full frontal assault. Trunks and Sage could only look on in awe. “I’ll be damned…” Trunks murmured, as Yamcha turned towards the van.

The ningen very nearly facevaulted. “What in the name of Kami?!” he yelped. He looked at the van, then to the kids, then back at the van. “I don’t fucking believe it.”

Goten nodded sagely, “Believe it. I told you so. Now, Yamcha-san, you should apologize to Sage for hurting his feelings. You should not have tried to make him sit in a car seat that isn’t there.”

Yamcha’s jaw touched the ground. For a moment all he could do was stare at the seat…where the car seat had been. “I know it was there…I know it…” he murmured.

Goten patted Yamcha’s leg gently, “Don’t worry, Yamcha-san, you’re old, forgettin’ things is normal.”

Yamcha spat and sputtered, nearly speechless with anger. Sage’s temper had finally cooled and he was ready to go along with the plan. “This is ridiculous. You aren’t getting any younger, or any prettier, ningen. If we’re going, let’s GO.” He pushed past the man, and gracefully entered the van. Skirting the burned upholstery, Sage sat down regally, his chin up and his arms folded.

Goten and Trunks clambered inside, seating themselves beside their little brother. Yamcha had no choice but to get in the van. As he started the engine, he mumbled to himself, “Damned kids…good thing their mother can fuck, or I’d throw the little bastards in the river…”

The trio looked at one another, jaws hardening. Their Saiyjin hearing was acutely sensitive, but now was not the time to react. They would get their revenge…in time. Goten patted Sage’s knee kindly, and took Trunks’ hand in his. Like his father, he served as a steadying influence. Trunks visibly relaxed, but Sage showed no signs of relenting. He was readying for war…and he would not be defeated.

As the van sped down the highway, Goten began phase one of “The Plan”. He whined softly, “Yamcha-san, I gotta GO!”

“Go where?” the older man asked, confused.

Trunks rolled his eyes, “He means he’s gotta take a piss, stupid.”

Yamcha retorted, “Well, we just left your house, you should have done your business there. I’m not stopping.”

Goten smiled happily. This was going to be FUN. “Please, please, I REALLY REALLY REALLY gotta go!!!”

“No.”

“It hurts!! I’m gonna pee on myself!”

“You’d better not!!” Yamcha yelled.

Sage’s dry tones, “Just piss on the fucking floor, Goten. He’ll stop then.”

Trunks and Goten couldn’t hold back their laughter, nearly falling onto the ground. Goten gasped, “Stop…Don’t…Oh, shit…I think I really did piss my pants…”

Yamcha grumbled for three miles, finally turning up the radio full-blast to muffle the sound of the boys’ laughter. They held their ears, wincing, but were not deterred.

Phase Two of the plan began when Sage and Trunks switched places, Trunks sliding in behind Yamcha. Kick, kick, kick…his red and gray Nike shoes bounced off the back of the driver’s seat, in time to the music…kick, kick, kick.

Yamcha growled under his breath, and Trunks grinned, redoubling his efforts. He elbowed Goten, who began wailing, “I’VE GOTTA PEE!!”

Kick, kick, kick…then, “I HAFTA PEE!!”…

Kick, kick, kick...”Oh, sweet Kami, I’m not going to make it! I’VE REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY GOTTA TAKE A PISS!”

Sage looked on, one eyebrow raised, wondering how long it would take for the ningen to crack. He didn’t have to wait long.

“FINE!” Yamcha screamed, “JUST STOP IT!”

Trunks kicked the seat one last time, and Goten whined softly. The car swerved, and the children’s bodies slammed into the far wall. Yamcha hit the brakes, and they were thrown forward, into the floor-board. Pulling himself up, Goten looked out of the window, and yelped, “McDonalds!!!”

The other boys clustered behind him, eyes widening with desire. There was no place more sacred to demi-Saiyjin children than McDonalds…Goten’s eyes welled with tears, as drool began to form at the side of Trunks’ mouth…even Sage’s face became notably softened. Yamcha said harshly, “Could we please hurry this up? I thought you had to piss.”

“I do, I do, but I’m too hungry to pee…I need food,” Goten said in a hushed tone. He could hardly talk, he was too busy envisioning the Big Macs and Double Quarter Pounders that were beckoning to him, even the fries were calling his name.

Yamcha opened the door of the van, unceremoniously dragging Goten out by his arm. Trunks yelled after him, “I want three Big Macs, a Fish sandwich, and super size my fries and my drink…Coke’ll be fine.”

Sage bellowed uncharacteristically, perhaps from his intense hunger, “I want the same thing, just without the fish. And an apple pie.”

Trunks yelled, “Me, too, I want a pie, too!”

Yamcha didn’t answer, so the two scions of the House Vegeta settled down to wait, fine-tuning their plans of Yamcha torture. In his best “I’m the big brother and you shall do as I say” voice, Trunks warned, “I want you to make it look real, even if you have to pinch yourself to make tears. Hell, I’ll pinch you if I have to.”

Sage snorted, “Don’t even think about it. Just do your part, and I’ll do mine.”

Meanwhile, Goten was being pushed abruptly into the front door of the McDonald’s. This was disturbing, as his fathers always allowed the boys a moment to pay their respects to Kami for allowing such a place to be built. Goten fell to his knees in great reverence, but was interrupted by Yamcha’s yelling, “What the hell are you doing?” as his eyes darted about the restaurant.

The bridge of his nose turned purple as Goten answered honestly, “I was just paying homage, Yamcha-san.”

“Oh, for Kami’s sake,” Yamcha bellowed, pulling Goten towards the bathroom.

Goten dug in his heels as the young woman at the counter asked, “Can I take your order, Son-san?” The Sons and Briefs were known at ever McDonalds within 500 miles of Capsule Corp., and Goten even knew the girl’s name. “Hai, Hitomi-san. I would like…”

Yamcha spat out between gritted teeth, “I thought you had to go.”

Goten nodded sadly, knowing that he had to keep the plan moving, but barely able to move from the hunger pangs that wracked his small body. “Ano…hai, that’s right, I did, I mean, I do have to go.”

Yamcha pushed him roughly into the bathroom stall, hissing, “Hurry up, so we can go. And make sure you do everything, because I’m not stopping again.”

Goten made faces at the door as he unzipped his zipper. Unfortunately, he didn’t exactly have to pee. Thinking of water, of juice, of the rivers, lakes, waterfalls, playing in the sink, the swimming pool, nothing seemed to help. He just did not have to pee. Yamcha had figured as much, and flung open the door with one hand, “That’s it, we’re going. Pull up your pants and come out of there.”

Goten looked affronted, “Well, how I am supposed to go with you looking at me? What are you, some kind of shotokan hentai?”

Yamcha growled, strangely reminiscent of his father’s Kakarrotto growl, and Goten thought it time for a tactical retreat. He struggled to button his pants, and, after washing his hands, followed quietly after Yamcha. That is, until he realized that the ningen had no intentions of getting him and his brothers their food. “Yamcha-san, “ he said hopefully, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Yamcha said nothing, just pulling the boy along, the door barely missing his tail as it slammed shut behind them. Goten was righteously pissed. There weren’t many things that could upset his natural Son good-naturedness, but fucking with him about food was one of them. He was hungry, and they were standing directly in front of a fast-food restaurant, and THIS bastard wasn’t going to feed him?

Goten’s eyes filled with tears as he applied the brakes, skidding to a halt and nearly falling on his face. “Yamcha…hey, ningen!” he barked, shocking both the scarred fighter, and himself.

The man answered sharply, “What? What now?”

“I’m hungry. You are going to feed me. Me and my brothers. Or there is going to be hell to pay.” His voice was dark, sounding in his ears like his older brother’s. Damn, it felt good to be this bad…with no consequences in sight. And even if there were, Goten didn’t care, because he was starving, starving to death in the parking lot of the best restaurant in the entire universe, starving because this asshole wanted to play Daddy, and Goten would be damned if he’d take it anymore. At the top of his lungs he screamed, “I want food, NOW!! Not later, but RIGHT NOW!!”

Sage, from his vantage point in the van’s rear window, was so shocked his mouth was gaping and working soundlessly like a goldfish. “He…he…he’s not getting our food!”

Trunks scrambled over the seats, and he pressed his face against the glass. “He’s not! And…uh-oh…this is bad…this is very bad…Goten is PISSED!”

Sage dropped all pretense and screamed, “Get him, kick his ass, Goten!” Everyone knew that is was suicide to piss off a Son, especially when said Son hadn’t eaten in the past ten minutes. Goten had his Kakarrotto-face on, and even Vegeta had a hard time talking him down when he was like that.

Trunks wasn’t sure this was such a good idea…”He’s gonna blow the plan, Sage.”

“SO WHAT! Fuck the plan, GET HIM NOW!” Sage ordered.

Goten was already powering up, and Yamcha had raised his ki in return. This had the makings of an interesting fight…or maybe a homicide. Blood pounding, Goten struggled to keep control of himself, but really, this was close to being out-and-out child abuse. He was hungry, Kami dammit, and this was completely unfair. Sure he had been yanking Yamcha’s chain all morning, but he was a kid, and a demi-Saiyjin at that. What could you expect? Growling, he raised his ki even higher, snarling and hissing at the older man.

Yamcha answered, his ki flaring dangerously, and Trunks and Sage both whispered, “Oh, shit.” Flinging open the window, Trunks yelled, “Power down, stupid! Power down, or our dads are going to be here any second!” Yamcha was startled, and it took him a moment to realize what the boy had said. Goten’s ki was beginning to blister his forearms, and he took the ningen’s momentary lapse of attention as an opening for battle. His small fist slammed into Yamcha’s gut, and the man fell over, gasping, holding his midsection. He struggled for air, and Goten made a move to hit him once more. Sage and Trunks were there in a flash, holding him off the larger human.

Trunks thwacked Goten on the top of the head with his fist, “Goten no baka! You were worried about mine and Sage’s temper? Have you lost your mind?”

Sage gripped harder as Goten continued pulling them forward, and ordered, “Son Goten, I demand that you stop, this instant. Your Ouji commands this.”

Goten took a deep breath, heaving slightly, then abruptly dropped his power level. Lowering his head he whispered, “Gomen,” as Trunks and Sage checked on their rival.

The man was fine, of course, he had taken worse hits than that one, but he was definitely in shock…and his feelings were hurt. Or maybe that was just his pride.

Sage was impressed, but he was also a little peeved that Goten had gotten a hit when he had been unable to. Damn it, life was unfair. He wanted to smack the baka human around so badly he could taste it…he was a coward, and a Kassan-snatcher, and he smelled funny, and he looked like a damned idiot, and he was NOT a part of their family, and never WOULD be if Sage had anything to say about it.

Sage and Trunks helped Goten back to the van, both shooting double-barrelled Vegeta death glares at their foe. Yamcha was wheezing, wincing as he pressed trembling fingers against his aching stomach. “Goddamn kids, goddamn fucking bastard kids, how the hell did I get myself into this mess? All I wanted was to take the little shits to the zoo, what the fuck is so wrong with that? But this is the kind of thanks I get, oh no, oh hell no, fuck this shit, I’m not putting up with these little motherfuckers not one more second. Let their mother deal with them, nobody, and I mean NOBODY fucks that good…well…she is pretty good…damn good…but these aren’t kids, they’re monsters!” he continued muttering various obscenities under his breath as he re-entered the van.

The children were also cursing, in deep, guttural Saiyjino, cursing the ningen, and themselves. They were sunk. It was all over. No zoo. No plan. And still, after all this, no food. The tail fur was going to fly when they got home, and they all knew it. No matter what their father might think of Yamcha, he was still a friend of Goku’s and their Kassan’s lover.

Goten’s chin drooped onto his chest, and Trunks began whispering comforting words into his ear. Sage’s brain began to buzz, gears whirring behind his eyes. He wasn’t going to accept defeat, not this early in the game. This was nothing. It was time for a tactical retreat, that was all. He could do this. He could swallow his pride (though Kami help him if his Tou’tan ever heard him say that). Sage tried to speak, but his voice was barely a thought of a whisper. Trunks looked at him with question marks in his eyes, knowing that Sage was up to something, but not knowing exactly what.

Summoning all of his courage, he said in a small voice, “I’d like to apologize for my brother, Yamcha-sama.” He lifted his dark head, tears swimming in his eyes, and added, “If possible, we would all still like to go to the zoo with you…if you’ll give us another chance.”

The muffled thunk of Trunks’ head hitting the floor was the only sound that could be discerned. “Drama queen,” Sage thought, but for once, held his tongue. Too much was riding on this. His clear voice pierced the air again, “Please, Yamcha-sama…”

Yamcha’s heart leapt at this sign of submission from the Saiyjin princeling. Oh, this was going to be good. It was worth putting up with the demonic trio just so he could push the littlest brat’s nose into his defeat. He had them now, if he told their fathers about what just happened, they were going to be in deep trouble. He was going to enjoy this so much, he just couldn’t let them go home now…”Fine,” he said, “I’ll let it go…just this once…”

As the ningen pulled the van slowly out of the parking lot, a slow, horrifying grin spread over the face of the young Saiyan no Ouji. His face took on an unnatural red glow, and Trunks (newly recovered) began to back away slowly. Trunks had seen that look before, and while he liked the results, he was very rarely comfortable with the means.

“Umm…Sage?” he ventured, but was deterred by the flames that began licking around his youngest brother’s black and blue Nikes. Goten even perked up for a moment, before realizing that Sage was being possessed…again. “Oh, SWEEETTT!!” he yelped, but not before Trunks clapped a hand over his mouth. This was great. This was awesome. Sage was going to take care of everything…and then…no more Yamcha.

Three tails twined together menacingly over three outstretched fists, and three brothers, bonded in blood, made a silent pact. They would not be beaten. They would not fail. They would rise victorious from the ashes of failure…and they were going to do it without so much as a lecture from their parents.

The rest of the drive was conducted in complete silence, an occurrence which would have tipped off any of the boys’ parents, even the slightly bewildered Goku knew that silence and demi-Saiyjins was bad, bad, bad. Yamcha hummed a victory song, envisioning a naked, grateful Bulma…and two chagrined Saiyjins, realizing that he was a much better parent than they could ever hope to be. And while he was at it…three very polite, worshipful demi-Saiyjins to wait on him hand and foot…oh yeah, that would be just perfect.

As the van pulled in the front entrance of the zoo, Sage’s feral smile abated somewhat, but the rage that poured off of him was still palpable. Goten was tired, and still too hungry to be much help, but that could be fixed…Trunks had his father’s look about him, a hardening of the chin and jaw that made him look very mature, and very dangerous. The ningen had fucked with the wrong set of chibis, that was for damn sure…and nobody fucked with Saiyjins and got away with it. It was a matter of pride, now. Sage’s mouth once again began to stretch slowly, as he said quietly, “Are we here? Oh, please tell me we’re here.”

Trunks intoned softly, in an eerie sing-song, “We’re heeeerreeeee…”

Evil chuckles resounded through the cramped quarters of the van, and Yamcha felt a cold breeze stirring at his neck. He shivered, not knowing why he felt so strange all of a sudden. It was almost as if he were being hunted…

To be continued