Author's note: Thanks a ton! You guys are awesome. I was hoping someone around here remembered me… It's been sooooo long.

"Watching" is coming along too. However, I'm not very satisfied with it… Therefore, I'm looking for a beta reader. I'm hoping I can find someone who knows how to write a good fic themselves and/or has been around the Dragon Ball fic scene long enough to know the DB storyline. I need someone who knows how to correct spelling, grammar, yadda yadda… but I really need someone who I can run ideas and rough drafts by and receive an honest opinion back… constructive criticism and everything. You'll get sneak peaks… that's about all I can offer for repayment… but I'll link your site on mine or even host your fics if you want. Email me at smile83775@aol.com if you want to go for it. As you know, my updates are few and far between… this is kinda why I need someone who is also going to be able to hang around on the net for a while… this isn't just a summer job. One more thing… I'll need the chapters back in a timely manner. I know I'm picky… but my two T&P betas have gone on sabbatical from the internet and I'm getting a little needy… okay desperate may be the better term for it.

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The night sky seemed alive with light and almost musical choreography as the stars twinkled randomly and out of sync. The night's summer breeze blew in from the window, carrying with it a welcomed chill. The warm scent of freshly cut grass and dew filled his senses, driving him to recall over fifty summers before this one. There was just something about these summer nights that made him feel like he was nine years old again. It was almost as if he expected Icarus the Dragon to come flying up to his window and beckon him on a midnight secret flight over the hills. His mother, even to this day, would kill him if she ever found out about those escapes through the window… but he wouldn't trade them for anything. They were the only times he could really run out by himself without having to wonder… a time where he could take off and think.

It had been a turbulent time in his life. The androids were coming. The then unknown boy from the future had revealed that he would lose everyone he cared about to the hands of the deadly twins… and that he would have to carry the future on his shoulders for thirteen more years, only to meet the same fate. His father was suddenly back in his life and training with him and his mentor every day. Truth was, it was the happiest time in his childhood. He had both father figures in his life… teaching him, training him and preparing him for a possible hellish future where he would be earth's only hope until Trunks was grown.

He sighed, standing at his open window with his arms crossed. Goku, his son, would be that age soon. It seemed like only yesterday that he was watching his father turn Super Saiyan for the first time, fueled by the rage of his friend's brutal and painful death. He was only six then. That wasn't so long ago… was it?

He wasn't ready for middle age. He wasn't ready to see the day when his daughter was old enough to have children of her own. He most assuredly wasn't ready to walk her down the aisle. Funny, the prioritization of those fears should have been reversed. He scoffed quietly at himself, looking over at the sleeping figure in the bed next to him. There were days when he didn't even think he was ready for a family of his own… yet it had been more than thirty years since he had married his wife and started one.

Gohan shivered as another chill spread from his head, down his spine to his feet. It was too cold to stay up half naked and contemplate life, he decided as he crawled back into bed and next to his spouse.

He didn't know why he was feeling this way. He didn't know why simply watching his kids grow up would make him so anxious and nervous. He didn't know why he was still losing sleep over his daughter's recent marriage. It had been announced almost a year before, after all.

The answer was right in front of his face. Gingerly, he swept a streak of gray hair behind Videl's ear. He was gentle and light of touch so that she wouldn't wake or stir. Videl had two gray streaks in her hair… one on either side of her face. They were beautiful, distinguished and elegant looking, especially when she swept her hair up into that twist thing she always did… but they were gray. They were simply dead roots with hairs attached that refused to fall out.

At times, he thought he was beginning to look silver up top himself, but Videl always insisted that it was just the light. What scared him the most was that she was probably right. At nearly seventy, his father still looked thirty. As a demi Saiyan himself, he wasn't going to age any time soon… but Videl would.

He knew his gift worked both ways. It was both a blessing and a curse. The Saiyan blood moving through his veins would make it possible for him to live for well more than a century. He would be able to see five or so generations born after him, but he would inevitably have to watch the one person he loved the most die... It was something that he had always dreaded… all the way back to the day when he saw her nearly beaten to death by Spopovich at the World's Martial Arts Tournament. It was something that made him want to scream, even from just the mere thought of holding her hand in her last moments.

Some people say that living without their wives or husbands would be like trying to live without their right arms. They could do it. It would be difficult and painful, but they could do it. For him, living without Videl would be like living without a heart. He might survive for a few seconds, but it would be a miserable existence, followed by an early death. It would vacuum the life right out of him to know that she would never sleep by his side again. Her death would be his end, even if his body refused to shut down.

He silently wondered if the others were so distraught over something far into the distant future. He frowned bitterly. It wasn't so far into the future for his mother… or Ms. Bulma. His father, he thought with a singe of pain, wouldn't even blink an eye. He had died several times. Loosing Chichi may only prove convenient for the time he would eventually die for good. Chichi would prefer it like that… especially once she got older. At least his mother wouldn't have to worry about him any more. His life would probably just go back to the way it was before marriage… catching fish in the river out back, bathing in the same river and training. He would just have to learn how to do his own laundry and he would be set.

Vegeta was a different story all together. Forty years ago, Gohan doubted Vegeta would even flinch if Bulma died. Now, he honestly didn't know. Obviously, they had a relationship more than what it appeared to be on the outside. Some how, Bulma had managed to tame one of the most ruthless murderers in the galaxy… and turned him into a househusband.

Gohan was almost sure that Vegeta was planning to die in some glorious battle long before she ever got old anyway. Vegeta had always mentioned dying in a way honorable of a Saiyan Prince. He was convinced that it was the whole reason behind the suicide attack on Majin Buu so many years ago. It was a way to atone to the world; to the people he had killed in the ring only hours before, to his son and wife… and at the same time, to be remembered by somebody for having died for something bigger than he was… for being a hero.

He had thought about talking to Goten about it many times. He felt more comfortable bringing up a question like that to his younger brother than his clueless father or the man who had tried to kill him on numerous occasions. However, he didn't want to make him think about something so grim, especially since he and Marron had only been married for a few years. Goten had tried so hard getting a relationship started with her. The last thing he wanted to do was spoil their days together with unnecessary concern. They had enough to worry about, anyway. Starting a family and a new business was stressful enough.

Trunks and Pan were out of the question. They had their problem solved… they were both Saiyan. Pan might age a little faster, but she was younger than Trunks. If she were to age more rapidly, it would only even them out. Besides, Gohan had enough trouble thinking about his wife leaving him through death. He didn't even want to think about his kids doing the same.

He traced her jaw line with his fingers. He would just slip himself into a comfortable state of denial. That always seemed to work for his mother. Just pretend as if it wasn't really happening… like it wouldn't happen. Contemplating one's own mortality versus the mortality of his loved ones was tiring… as well as meaningless. It wasn't like it was something he could control or simply change. If the dragon balls were still intact, he would think about it… but they had traded that freedom in…

Videl stirred and sighed, opening her eyes to face him. "Why are you awake?" She asked, surprised to see him alert and sitting up.

"I just couldn't settle down enough to sleep." He answered, slightly startled as he silently admired the way she looked under the moonlight shining down from the window.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing… I just… I was just thinking about today. At Pan's."

Videl laughed softly. "Gohan. I know this is hard for you to accept, but his hand was down her shirt. What's the big deal? You're going to have to get over it. Married couples have sex. In fact, they're probably doing it right…"

"Videl…" Gohan interrupted before she could go any further. "Thank you for putting that image into my head, but that's not what I was talking about."

"Oh…" She started, opening her drowsy eyes a little more to read his expression. "Then what?"

He delayed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry."

Videl suspected more to his revelation, wondering what was so horrible that her suit-and-tie husband was awake after two o'clock at night. The last time he was awake so late was when he was working on his dissertation... during their honeymoon. "Gohan… I have no idea what you're talking about… and I'm really too tired to try to figure it out. Please… just tell me what's really wrong."

"I didn't mean to get angry today."

Videl nearly laughed, rolling over so that her back was to him. "Gohan. We've had maybe four arguments in our lives. I don't think one more is that big of a deal."

"I know, but… I don't like fighting with you." He admitted, lying down from his sitting position and wrapping his arm around her. He scooted closer under the covers… relishing the feeling of her body and warmth pressed entirely against his. "I don't even know where it came from."

She took a deep breath, more than willing to remind him about the lack of logic and creative argument he had used earlier that day. "I mentioned buying a whirlpool for the master bathroom and you said that we should be saving more money for Jr.'s education, not buying groceries for wealthy CEO's and going swimming in our bathroom. Then I said that my dad would be more than happy to pay for his education. Then you interrupted me and told me that he would get scholarships for college and we didn't need to borrow anything, which was a contradiction to what you had just said two seconds before that. And then I asked you why you were being so uptight and you…"

Gohan put his hand up to her mouth and covered it, lightly turning her head to look at him. He chuckled lightly. "Thanks for the reminder." He said sarcastically, removing his hand.

"Gohan… I know that business is tight, but I really don't know why you are getting so nervous. You have all that money saved for college and retirement; I have my Dad's inheritance that he's more than willing to let me tap into it. He'll give you anything you want for letting him take the credit for Cell. Plus, business may be a little slow, but you still rake in a lot of money every year. I just don't understand what you're so afraid of. I think you're being too uptight... even for you."

"I… I don't know what's wrong."

Videl looked at him, concerned about what was really going on in that mind of his. "Gohan…"

He laughed, lighting his features up once more and washing relief over his wife. "I guess it's just like the old saying goes: 'No matter how much you have, you always want more'. I just want to make sure we have enough."

"Enough for what?"

"I don't know. Enough to take care of my parents. Dad's appetite alone costs thousands a month even when they do catch their own fish and grow vegetables."

"That's true… but Goten is helping with that too. Now that he has his own successful business, he should be able to take half of their expenses."

"But I also want to make sure Pan's okay." Videl opened her mouth to immediately argue with him, but he stopped her. "I know that Trunks is rich. Trust me, my mother hasn't let me forget since she found out they were together, but companies tend to fail sometimes… and CEO's can be fired too."

Videl looked at him questioningly, knowing there was still more to what he was saying. "And?"

"…and I want to make sure you and Goku would be okay… if anything were to happen to me."

"Why would you say that?" She asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"I don't know that either. I just have a foreboding feeling. I feel like at any moment this perfect peace is going to be interrupted. These years of calm… they almost seem too good to be true."

"Gohan…"

"I know it's silly, Videl. I just… I want to be sure. I want to know that if a new enemy came and I died in battle that you wouldn't have to worry about Goku's schooling or about food. I know you have your father's inheritance and I know that we have a lot of money in savings, but I just want to be sure." Gohan stopped there, hoping he wouldn't have to explain any more to her… That he wouldn't have to explain this feeling of panic that was working his way closer and closer to his consciousness from his sub consciousness every day.

Chills ran up her spine. He looked and sounded so convinced that there was something terribly wrong that she didn't have a clue about. She trusted her husband's judgment about everything. At first, she had just assumed that the money issue was just that… a money issue. Obviously, there was something he was far more afraid of then just falling behind on a few bills. "Umm… Okay." She started nervously; trying to digest everything he had just told her. "But I still want a whirlpool."

He laughed, hugging her close to him once more. "We can get a whirlpool. I want you to be happy with me, not mad at me. Besides, at least you'd be nice and relaxed."

"Hmm… Well… I could get a job." She suggested suddenly.

As he looked down at her curiously, Gohan suspected she had been thinking about this for a while. "I thought you liked staying home."

"I do…" She started. "But… I can get a part time position somewhere. I'd be home when Goku went to school and by the time he got back. I would still have time to cook dinner, and I'd be making money on the side. With the what I made, we could pay for vacations and whirlpools… all the extra stuff… at least until business picks up at the office."

"Yeah, but you'd have to drive so far just to get into town and back every day. Are you sure you'd want to do all that just to get a paycheck?"

"Umm, Gohan… To tell you the truth," She started. "I'm getting a little bored around here. Your mother and father are driving me crazy and Jr.'s getting so big he really doesn't need me to be here all day. Besides, I could look at the police station. Yoshi is the Commissioner now. I'm sure he'd be willing to give 'The Great Saiyaman 2' a job pushing files or something."

He chuckled. "Satan City's greatest defender doing paper work?"

"Well, I don't think I can fight off five guys with guns like I used to. I might break a hip or something."

"Well, I say it's worth a try if I get to see you in that spandex thing again." He agreed, though secretly reluctant. Part of him hoped she would simply forget her little idea after a few days.

Videl laughed and held his hand in hers as they both finally calmed down enough for sleep. They had reached a solution to both of their problems, and she finally had an inkling about what had been bugging Gohan so badly recently. It scared her, what he had said… but she wasn't going to dwell on it. For the moment, she was happy… and her family was happy. Peace was something you cherished while you had it in her world. If you spent all your time worrying about the 'what-ifs', then you never truly had peace to begin with.

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Time nearly stood still for her as she stared at him, smiling brightly, though with a hint of menace. He was lying on his back; his head tilted backward and his mouth wide open as he softly snored. Pan thought it was adorably funny. There was a little piece of information she had learned on their honeymoon that would serve her quite well on this particular morning.

It seemed her husband had unique sleeping habits, if you could call it that. Every night during the week, he slept very lightly, almost to the point where he woke up every time she had to get up for one reason or another. However, Friday night into Saturday morning and Saturday night into Sunday morning, he slept like a log. He snored, he drooled, he tossed and moaned… he slept like her grandfather did, though he always kept it confined to the weekends. It was as if his mind was giving his body permission to sleep harder and longer because he didn't have to get up as early.

True, she had seen him sleep long before they ever shared a bed. On their tour through space, there was only one room where they could fit all of their sleeping mats. Not wanting to sleep next to her grandfather with all the noise he was making, she opted to sleep closer to Trunks. Of course, having a bad case of puppy love back then, she had watched him from time to time while he slept. Being in the same bed with him was a lot different from just watching him across the room.

She remembered the times they would sleep next to each other while she was in the wilderness training. She wasn't sure why, but she got the impression he didn't sleep very well at all in those days. Despite heavy physical training throughout the day that left her exhausted, he always ended waking up several times at night.

On this specific morning, he seemed to be enjoying his sleep a little more than usual. She had tried waking him up the civil way. His alarm clock had gone off three times already, earning little more than a disapproving grunt from him. She turned it off, hating the shrill, offensive sound. She tried opening the blinds so the sun was directly in his eyes. She loved waking up like that… but apparently, he didn't. All he did was scoot over a little so that he was back in the shade. She had tried nudging, calling, tapping, even hitting and he barely responded… usually with nothing more than a grunt or a drowsy complaint. Now, however, it was time for aggressive action.

She carefully straddled his stomach, being cautious not to let the hem of her nightshirt tickle him to awareness. Leaning slowly forward, she allowed herself to stretch along the length of his bare chest and neck while being careful not to touch him. She bit her lip, lightly brushing his lavender mane out of his face so she could get a clear shot. The sound of ice clinking against glass echoed off the walls of their huge master bedroom. She cringed, hoping her clumsy mistake would not alert him.

He didn't stir.

She smirked evilly. She really hated to do this to him. Well, not really, but she might regret retaliation. Nevertheless, it had to be done. They had to be ready to go in an hour and he wasn't making her job any easier on her. Her mother warned her that being a wife sometimes required her to be a babysitter too… but she never imagined it would come to this. With an agonizing slowness, she lifted the glass up to his chin and tipped it. Cold water and ice poured onto his face, neck and chest.

Immediately, his eyes popped open. Out of reflex, he thrashed and flipped over, sending both of them towards the ground. Pan landed on the bottom, Trunks merely inches above her as cold water soaked him. He was taking deep breaths, his eyes wide as if he still hadn't registered what had happened.

"Why…?" He asked, his voice coming out strained, as if he were holding back tears.

Pan bit her lip nervously before letting out the loudest laugh he had heard come from her in a long time. It was almost… maniacal. "I'm sorry honey." She claimed, though her tone of voice made him think differently. He wasn't fooled by her false apology. "I tried to wake you up, but you wouldn't budge."

"It's Saturday!" He argued with an immature whine in his voice that only renewed her laughter. "I only get two days to sleep in! Let me have my weekend!"

"Poor baby." She said sarcastically, sticking out her lower lip for emphasis.

"Paaan…" He whined, lying his head down on her shoulder and collapsing his body on top of hers. "I want to go to sleep."

"Not on me, you don't. Besides, we have to leave in an hour."

Trunks scoffed. "For what?"

"Trunks! Bulma's been reminding us all week! I can't believe you forgot."

"Forgot what?"

"Baseball practice!" She argued, wanting to slap him over the head.

"Baseball…? What…? We don't play for half a year. It's only August!" He continued, his head still on her shoulder, his body still crushing her to the floor. "It's too cold to be outside today anyway... Especially so early."

"Take it up with your mother." She stated firmly, rolling them over so that she was on top. "I'm going to go take a shower, why don't you go make us some breakfast?"

He mumbled in vague agreement as she stood up and made her way to the bathroom. Part of him became intrigued and tempted as he noticed his dress shirt that she had just been wearing as a nightshirt suddenly strung out across the floor, left behind like a second skin. He loved it when she wore his shirts and nothing else. Dende, she looked so much better in them than he did… and after all, he did need to take a shower anyway. Consider it… a water conservation effort that they would take one together. Trunks was always doing his best for the environment, especially when 'his best' led to sex in one way or another.

Then again, the sun beating in from the window felt really good on his now freezing body as he lie there… and while there was plenty of time for showers and love making, there were only ten more minutes before she would yell at him again for going back to sleep. Now having firmly made up his mind, he grabbed the blanket off their bed and wrapped himself tightly inside as he shut his eyes once again. Only ten more precious minutes of sleep… just ten.

"Trunks! Get your lazy butt up and make us breakfast!" His wife screeched from the bathroom over the sound of running water.

Trunks tore his eyes open and groaned. The woman knew everything, didn't she? She was already turning into his mother.

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He smiled, checking his reflection in the mirror of his yellow sports car before getting out. He was dressed in sweats, his cane at his side as he walked, the crisper air of the late summer morning filling his lungs. He couldn't believe it when she called him. She hadn't called him in years. She needed his help… and when she needed his help enough to call him down from his desert home, he came, no matter how strange the request was.

This time, it had to do with baseball. Sure, her request was a little odd, but he still wouldn't deny her. He was a little old to play the game, despite it having been his major source of income well into his fifties. He played and coached for the Titans for nearly thirty-five years before retiring. He was in his seventies now. He couldn't believe it himself. Though being a ki fighter had kept him looking and feeling younger than he was over the years, he still looked like the crotchety old man he had expected to become in his later life. His hair was completely gray. It was long and pulled back into a ponytail. He thought it made him look more distinguished with a defined set of crow's feet he had under his eyes. Still, he looked good… and there was no doubt about it, she did too.

As she walked up to him, it confirmed his suspicions. She was beautiful. Apparently, age had been kind to her. Being married and bedding a ki fighter encouraged physical youth as well. Instantly, he felt that old pain… the ping of jealousy and regret that only diminished to a dull ache as time progressed. He still loved her.

"Yamucha!" She yelled gleefully as she closed the distance between them and hugged him tightly. Instantly, he felt new life flowing through his old joints… as if he was ready to challenge the androids, Nappa… or Vegeta… again at her mere command.

"How are you doing Bulma?" He asked. It was never a superficial question when it came to her. He still felt protective of his ex… and if he thought she wasn't completely satisfied and happy for even a mere moment in her life, he would gladly snatch her away from whatever was causing her pain.

"I'm good, Yamucha. How are you?" She looked into his brown eyes… the same eyes that had stolen her heart and then broken it so many years ago.

"A little too old for my liking, but good." He said with a slight chuckle.

"How's Yani and Puar?"

"Puar's good. She had to stay behind and keep an eye on Oolong. I think the old pervert's habits are beginning to catch up with him. He's been sick recently. I finally convinced him to cut out the stogies and the booze."

"Oh, Goku will be so sad to hear that." She said. Her smile diminished. "What about Yani?"

Yamucha took in a deep breath, his eyes glazing over as he slipped into a memory long passed. "She's gone."

Bulma frowned and hugged him again. This was his second wife to die on him… and she was sure it didn't get any easier. "I'm so sorry, Yamucha. I never would have asked you to come if I would have…"

"No, don't apologize, Bulma. I'm glad to be here, but I can't imagine why you would need the help of an old kook like me. With Yani gone and Oolong sick… and with Puar and I getting too old for comfort, I'm glad to get out of that house for a while. I'm anxious to see the kids. It'll be nice to see what 'young' looks like again." He smiled and walked on with her, wanting to change the subject. He had been surrounded by old age too much lately and it was beginning to wear on his spirit and his body at the same time. "So… why did you need me, anyway? I can't exactly run the bases with a bad hip."

Bulma laughed lightly, still feeling guilty about calling him all the way into the city despite what was going on in his life. She felt selfish for not hanging on the phone long enough to hear the whole story. "Well, this is the first year we've really had the chance to win the Executive's Tournament. Now that Trunks has married Pan, the Son's qualify as 'family' and we can use them too. I really want to beat Willpower Tech this year. They've gotten away with too many of our victories. Just because they have younger board members than we do…" Her eyes pleaded with him… and suddenly he felt like he was sixteen again.

"Ah… so what you're saying is that you want to win and see your competitors left behind in your dust by using your unusually gifted alien family as unfair leverage?"

"Yes." She answered bluntly.

He laughed. "Well, okay then, but that still doesn't explain why you need me. I'm not family, so I can't play… not that I could even if I was, but…"

"I need you to coach. We need serious help, Yamucha, I'm not kidding." She said, looking around at the field in front of her.

"But they're so strong and the can fly. Plus, Gohan, Videl, Trunks and Pan all have baseball experience. You shouldn't need…"

"That's the problem. They're too strong. I know we could beat them, easily, but I want it to look a little normal. We don't need any more bad attention."

Yamucha chuckled again. Looking out at the familiar family spread out on the field. "Well, let's see what kind of team we have to start with…"

Trunks and Pan were huddled together. Pan was swinging the bat around while Trunks had his arms around her 'helping her with her swing'. Yamucha knew that Pan had experience with baseball thanks to high school gym courses. He wasn't sure if Trunks was showing off, or just doing that obsessive, clingy honeymoon mushiness that newly weds were so despised for. Either way, Yamucha was beginning to wish they would get a room.

"Trunks, I know how to handle a bat." He heard her say from across the field.

"I know you do, I'm just helping you correct your stance." He said into her ear, pressing against her back and tightening his grip around her a little more.

"Uh huh…" She said, unconvinced by his words. "Well, you do have more experience handling long, stiff objects than I do."

Goten laughed loudly as Trunks blushed like a tomato at her loud 'friendly jab'. "Very funny Pan. I don't think the people in the next city heard you. Maybe you can be a little louder next time."

Goten stood over by home plate swinging a bat around, paying more attention to Trunks and Pan than to what he was doing. He wasn't really doing anything, Yamucha noted. He was just sloppily swinging it back and forth. The scary part was, he could probably kill someone swinging it around like that.

Bra was actually on the pitcher's mound… buffing her nails. She was going to be disappointed if she thought she could pitch and keep those things perfect. No one was going to see them under a glove anyway. Girls… go figure… he was amused with the fact that he used to be so scared of them… no, petrified of them. Things change…

Gohan and Videl, the two most experienced players on the team were on the sidelines having what looked like an involved discussion, while their son was eating a large lunch next to them. This was the first time Yamucha had seen Goku Jr…. though he looked exactly like Gohan did at that age. It was ironic… when Gohan was that age, Yamucha was dead… and the young boy was one a distant planet fighting for his life and the lives of Tien, Choatzu and Piccolo.

Suddenly, a familiar, grinning face popped in front of him… nearly giving him a heart attack in the process. "Yamucha!" Goku shouted, though he was less than two feet in front of him.

"Hi Goku." He greeted, happy to see him, though envious. The man was only four years his younger… though he looked like there was a forty year difference between the two. Another irony… the only man Yamucha knew who wasn't afraid to die would be the one who would live the longest.

"Are you going to play with us?" He asked curiously.

"No," he answered, not sure if Goku seriously thought he could play limping with a cane or not, "but Bulma said you guys could use some help, so I thought I'd come by and see what I could do."

"Oh, great! The only thing I know about bas-ed ball is how to swing the stick!" Goku laughed and thought he'd display his knowledge by swinging the bat as an example. Yamucha sweat dropped.

"Umm… Goku… traditionally, most players use two hands to swing… and, well, traditionally, the bat is held from the other end."

"Oh…" He said in realization. "That explains a lot. I kept wondering why it was slipping out of my hand."

Yamucha chuckled as he put his hand on Goku's shoulder and walked towards home plate. This would be a bit of a challenge for him… but it would be fun. Bulma watched as the two walked away from her. He looked so old… and he wasn't exactly going through good times at the moment. Thinking about age gave Bulma a sour taste in her mouth… but it wasn't something she could avoid. It seemed like yesterday they had met… It seemed like yesterday that she had caught him on a date with another woman. That one ill-fated date had itself been wholly responsible for her life turning out the way it did. There was no doubting she was on the rebound then… but when it came down to it, even if Yamucha hadn't been a playboy, she still made the right choice.

There hadn't been a day in a long time where she hadn't thought about it either. She loved Yamucha. Even to that day, she loved him… but Vegeta was for her. Forty years later, she still had no clue as to what exactly happened that made her fall for a man like Vegeta… but she was glad she did. Yamucha may have been her first love, but Vegeta was her true love. She laughed bitterly at that thought. If she were ever to say something like that to the Prince's face he would blush, scowl, then walk away… angry that she would have said anything mushy and from the heart, especially if he thought there was any way that other people could have heard it.

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"Okay, first off, let's look at the line up." Yamucha said, pacing on the field as everyone else sat in the dugout. "Who's pitching?"

"I am!" Bra volunteered joyfully.

"And who's catching?"

"That would be me," Gohan piped up

Yamucha twisted his lips in thought. "I don't think that's going to work."

"Why not?" Bra asked, slightly offended that he wanted to take her out of the most focused, most watched position in the game.

"Well, Gohan's fast and can throw well. He should be somewhere where he can run. Plus, Bra… even though you would be a strong pitcher, that might not necessarily be a good thing when mixed with Saiyan blood." He continued, "If you were to miss the catcher's mound and throw a wild, fast pitch, you could end up really hurting somebody. I think the pitching should be left to someone without Saiyan blood."

"I'm not going to throw out my shoulder again." Bulma interrupted.

"No, I was thinking Videl, actually."

Videl looked up, her eyes wide. "Mr. Yamucha, I haven't pitched in years."

"Don't worry about it… It's like riding a bike. We have plenty of time to practice."

Videl took a deep breath and nodded in reluctant agreement. "Okay… I guess."

"Well, then what about me?" Bra asked.

"Short stop. Just keep your eye on the ball. You won't have to throw far, but you'll have to duck down a lot more, which would be hard for some others. You're probably much more flexible than anyone here."

Bra smiled smugly, satisfied with his answer. "I resent that, Mr. Yamucha." Pan said from the doorway, where she was leaning against the wall. "I fight. I have to be more flexible than she is. I can lock my legs behind my neck, after all."

Goten coughed. "Yeah, Trunks can vouch for that." He mumbled, earning a hard slap to the back of the head by his purple haired friend and the "glare of doom" from his niece.

"Pan, I need you to be the catcher. You and your mom can work out some signals for pitches. Just be ready to be ran into by desperate third base runners trying to get to home."

"Uh huh…" She answered, distracted as she continued to give her Uncle the dirtiest look she could muster.

"Goten, you're on second base, Trunks you're on third. Gohan, you're going to be in left field, and Goku will be in right." He said, writing on his clipboard as he went. "Bulma, you're going to be in centerfield."

"What? You're putting me in the outfield?" She asked in surprise. "But I can't throw or run."

"I know… but if Videl is as good a pitcher as she used to be, you won't have to worry about that. Just leave the running up to Gohan and Goku. Don't go for the ball unless it's coming right for you. If you do happen to catch it and there's a runner trying to make it home, throw it to Goten on second. He'll get rid of it so you won't have to throw very much."

Bulma looked unsatisfied with his placement for her. He was right, though she hated to admit it… She really was only on the team for support. After all, what could a sixty year-old human woman do in the midst of young Saiyans?

"What about me?" Marron asked timidly from the corner. Yamucha looked surprised to see her there.

"Oh… um…" He started, looking back over his clipboard. "Well, scratch that. Bra, you're first base. Marron, you're shortstop."

Marron smiled. She hadn't really done anything so cooperative with the Sons since she and Goten were married. It would be fun to work with them like this… and she really couldn't wait to be on a team with her husband. They needed something enjoyable and distracting like this to keep their minds off baby pressures.

Bulma clapped her hands happily. "I knew you could help us." She said, putting a thankful hand on his shoulder. He blushed slightly, his hand covering hers as a smile spread across his face. "Thanks."

Yamucha laughed lightly. "Don't thank me yet… all I did was rearrange your defense. We still have batting to work on… and then we've got to figure out a way to look like a normal team."

Trunks cocked an eyebrow, noticing an old chemistry between the two. His first response was as a protective son to his mother. He didn't want to see her get hurt… but as soon as his brain kicked in, he realized the truth. Yamucha was seventy years old… his mother not far behind. They had both lived very different lives filled with family and friends… but they shared the same past. Maybe it was true, what they say. First loves never die. Trunks literally shook the thoughts out of his head. The image of his father severing Yamucha's head from his body came to mind.

"You okay?" Pan whispered from next to him.

"Yeah," He said, sighing. "It's just weird, you know? Right after my Mom found out she was pregnant with me, my Dad left to go train. He never gave her so much as a good bye. He didn't even seem to care that she was going to have his baby. Yamucha stayed with her occasionally, even thought they had their differences. He really helped her out. The man came within a hair of being my father… and right now, he almost seems just as close as he was back then."

Pan didn't know how to respond to that. She didn't have any words of wisdom or reassurance for him, though she doubted he wanted to hear them anyway. She always imagined Vegeta and Bulma as such a tight-knit couple. There was no doubt in her mind they loved each other, but evidently, they had their problems starting out too.

Trunks smiled oddly as he stood up and walked onto the field, taking his wife's hand gingerly and pulling her with him. The others followed, taking their gloves with them. Yamucha left his cane behind… determined to get through practice without it. Sure, he would be sore the next day… but it was worth it. It had been too long since he had the chance to play baseball, or see his old Z fighter teammates. He hadn't felt this young in years and he wasn't about to let a walking stick ruin it.

Gohan picked up a bag of bats and followed his old friend out to the field. "Are you going to be okay without that?"

Yamucha laughed lightly. "I'll be fine Gohan. It's just a bad hip. Besides, I'm not going to run to around the bases or anything. I just want to get some batting practice in with everyone."

"Okay, but you might want to start by helping Dad. I still don't think he knows what sport we're supposed to be playing."

"Good idea. Goku, you're up!" He shouted. Goku grinned widely as he ran over to the plate.

Pan stepped behind her grandfather and crouched down, holding her glove out. She didn't have any gear on, but it wasn't as if one of her mom's pitches could hurt her, even if she didn't catch it. Videl stepped up to the mound nervously. It was just practice, she kept telling herself. Just throw it right over the plate… nice and easy. Her father-in-law probably couldn't hit anything else anyway.

As Yamucha instructed Goku about where to stand and how to hold the bat, Videl swung her arm around repeatedly, attempting to loosen up her old joints. She had not been expecting to pitch… and she didn't know if she wanted to. It was such a high-pressure position. Sure, it had been fine when she was in high school and popular anyway, but…

"Okay, Mom. Throw it over the plate!" Her young daughter's cheer interrupted her thoughts.

With a deep breath and a quick adjustment of the seams to her fingers, she let it go. The ball buzzed over the field and to the plate faster than she had expected… faster than Goku had expected. With a dull thud, the small sphere landed in Pan's glove.

"Strike one!" Yamucha shouted loud enough for the others to hear. "Goku, when the ball just sails over the base like that, you've got to take a swing. If you don't, it's a strike either way."

"But I thought if you didn't swing it was a 'ball'."

Yamucha sighed and began to explain to Goku why he should and shouldn't swing depending on where the ball was over the plate. Videl smiled. She still had it…

Goku nodded his head enthusiastically at Yamucha's words… and they tried it again. Readjusting the ball once again in her fingers, she decided on a curve. She used to have a good one. Even Gohan had trouble gauging it once and a while… She wound up and threw it. This time, the pitch looked like it was dead on, but at the last moment, curved to the outside just in time to throw off the batter.

"Strike two!" He shouted from behind. "Goku…"

"But I thought if it was far away like that then it was a 'ball'." He argued.

"Not if it's within the batter's box." Yamucha started again… hoping that sometime before the day was done Goku would be able to hit something.

Videl smiled as Gohan threw a silent "way-to-go" across the field. This was more fun than she thought it was going to be. Pan chuckled as Goku scratched his head in confusion and Yamucha returned to his position behind the catcher.

"Grandpa," Pan whispered. "She's going to pitch a fast one next."

"I thought they were all fast." He argued.

"No… she's changing the way she's going to throw it."

"How do you know?"

Pan rolled her eyes. "I've played with her enough before to know. She's testing herself. She'll throw everything at you until you hit something. Just aim high and inside, her fast balls are a little different than other's are… and for Dende's sake, swing!"

Goku nodded and focused in. He resolved that if the ball were within a range where he could reach it, then he would swing. Videl bit her lip in concentration as she positioned the ball behind her back. She threw it hard, aiming it high and inside, just as Pan had said. The ball went sailing towards Goku at an incredible speed, blurring into one white streak as it neared its target. With shier determination, Goku swung. With the crack of the bat, the ball was sent the other direction… past the pitcher and third base man and into left field. It would have been a home run, had he hit it higher, but it simply bounced violently off the wall.

Gohan hesitated to go after it at first, being unsure if they were playing an actual practice game or just practicing. Still, he began to run after it, ducking down so he could swoop it up without stopping.

"Grandpa run!" Pan instructed. "Don't stop, just run!"

Goku scratched his head in confusion and then took off.

"Goku, the other way! Run towards first, not third!" Yamucha yelled.

Goku took off as fast as he could while still keeping it "normal". As he rounded first, Gohan panicked while trying to remember to keep it 'normal' and threw it too far for anyone on base to catch. Trunks had to leave his third base post to retrieve it from further infield. As Goku reached second and headed toward third, he decided the best course of action would be to throw it to Pan, since Goku was running too fast for Trunks to catch him in time while maintaining a human speed.

Pan caught the ball as Goku reached the halfway point toward home. This would usually be when most runners would give up and run into an out, knowing that the catcher would tag them… but Goku wasn't aware of this little fact. All he knew is that they had told him "don't stop, just run", so he did… straight into Pan.

Instantly, she was blown back… through the chain-link fence that guarded home base and into a thick, cement wall. Goku stopped dead in his tracks and the others started heading in to check on her. As the dust from the debris settled and Pan came to a realization of where she was… she felt pain. Wait… she had been through a wall. Just a wall. Why did it hurt?

"Pan! Panny! Are you okay?!" Goku asked, immediately kneeling to her side.

She groaned, sitting up with the help of her Grandfather. "Yeah, I'm fine." She said, though she was clutching the back of her head, which was bleeding.

"No you're not." Gohan argued. "You need to see a doctor."

She scoffed loudly, though it was interrupted by a groan of agony. "Dad, it's just a wall. It's not like I haven't been thrown into cement before."

"I know, but you haven't bled so easily before either." He said, noticing a thin streak of blood trailing down her neck.

"I'm sorry, Panny… you told me to run, so I ran." Goku said, smiling sheepishly.

Pan rolled her eyes…wishing she felt good enough to get angry at the moment. Dende, why did it hurt so bad?

"Dr. Tetsuya is right down the road. I'll take you there." Her father once again insisted.

"Dad, I don't need a doctor! Besides, you're a doctor. Can't you tell me how I am?"

"Yeah… you're hurt enough to go see your doctor."

"Why can't we just give her a senzu?" Trunks asked. Finally, a voice of reason…

"We don't have any. Korin was supposed to grow more soon, but your father and Dad used them all up in their last spar." Gohan informed him.

"Oh, well… I'll take her." Trunks offered.

"I don't need a doctor!" Pan yelled standing straight up to prove a recovery. Suddenly, a wave of vertigo washed over her, literally knocking her into her father's arms as her head spun and her legs gave out.

Gohan carefully picked her up and started walking. "You stay here and finish practice, Trunks. I'm sure we won't be too long anyway."

"Oh… okay…" Trunks reluctantly agreed. How was he expected to play baseball when his wife was bleeding from the head?

Gohan took off in the sky to see their family doctor. Him and his small team were employees of Capsule Corp… and the only people besides old friends and family who knew of their heritage. Hopefully, as Trunks wondered, they would also be able to determine why she had been hurt so bad while having just been thrown through a wall.

"She'll be fine." Goku said in his ear. "I didn't hit her that hard. She must have just been caught off guard."

Trunks looked at Gohan's figure concerned. That was just it… she wasn't off guard. She knew Goku was probably going to hit her… and Goku was right he didn't hit her that hard at all. He shook the thoughts out of his head. She was fine… she was fine…

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Sorry for the weird ending… and the filler chapter. -_-; Unbelievably, this chapter did lead in to an important part of the story… but it's probably hard to see. It was also a lot more sexual than I had intended on writing… just with the poor attempts at humor and stuff. Someone asked me if I was going to write a lost lemon chapter to "Waiting"… I'm not, just so you know. Even if I did get the weird inspiration to some day, it would only make me a hypocrite because I don't read them and don't post other's lemons on my site. Sorry.

I'm going to try to make "Wanting" chapters shorter so I can update more often. The next chapter should be out before too long.

Thanks!

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