The Agent had learned the value of patience, but that didn't make this infernal boredom any easier to bear. It was an odd sort of dichotomy: he was willing to spend months, years working out what he intended to do, carefully assuring that everything he needed was in place. This he could do with a painstaking and often time-intensive care, but when it came down to the time of reckoning, when things began to shift and fall into place...he felt like he'd run mad. It could all take place now, were circumstances different, and being forced to just…just sit and wait for things to happen on their own was agonizing.

He flopped into his seat with a disgusted sigh, trying to regain perspective. If his first death had taught him nothing else, it was not to be so damned determined that he could do everything himself. He'd progressed quite a bit in terms of strength and technique since that ugly incident, but it still haunted him in his darker moods; which, lately, seemed to be increasing in number and frequency.

His idiot cohort certainly wasn't helping matters or his mind. He could no longer predict what the stupid bitch was going to do, which disturbed him quite a bit. She certainly had the capacity to demolish his best-laid plans, and he wouldn't put it past her. It was just the sort of remorseless destructive back-stabbing he could imagine himself doing. Not for the first time he wondered what had possessed him to enter this agreement.

Hastily shoving that thought aside, he brushed a stray lock of hair from his face and wished Takira were awake so he'd have something to hit. While he could say little for her personality, she did provide a good fight…more or less on demand. She'd yet to turn down a sparring match, even when it seemed to him she'd be better served by other activities; must be that Saiyajin belligerent attitude he'd heard about.

The kid had that, too, in spades. The Agent shuddered to think what sort of warrior the brat would grow up to be; given his current strength and the coaching he'd doubtless receive from his mother…that woman was another thing altogether. She was out of her mind. There were certain things even Saiyajin heritage didn't explain; that transformation, for one…the thing with blood for another.

She'd spent about the entire day asleep or semi-conscious, though plainly it wasn't for the sake of rest. Twice she'd awakened screaming…the rest of the time she just tossed fitfully, moaning under her breath. The Agent had eventually locked her up in her quarters alone, letting Kabu crawl around the ship for the meanwhile. The child had seemed quite agitated by his mother's behavior…the Agent was inclined to agree.

A sharp bleep drew his attention. Leaning back in his chair, he looked over his shoulder to find the brat trying to climb the control panel again. To his credit, Kabu was making better progress than usual, and already had his eyes on his objective…in this particular case, the ceiling. The Agent sighed and walked over, prying Kabu off the equipment despite his rather vocal protests. Kabu grunted and squirmed, stretching his pudgy arms upward.

"And what would you do if you finally made it there?" the Agent asked, amused. "Tell you what, brat, let's find out." Forming a weak ki net around the baby, the Agent raised him high enough that he could finally touch those elusive tiles he'd been struggling so earnestly to reach.

Kabu, apparently unconcerned with how he'd achieved this new altitude, stretched out a hand and pressed his small palm flat against the ceiling; then he tried hitting it. Apparently not getting the desired reaction, he let out a chibified growl and punched it, cracking the tile and sending himself back a bit in the process.

"Hey, watch it, kid, we don't need you tearing the ship apart just because you got your mother's foul temper." Kabu turned, peering down at the Agent with a look that for a moment, completely belied his age. For a brief but unsettling instant, the Agent felt like he was staring down a battle-ready soldier, not an infant.

The ki forming in Kabu's hands only served to heighten the effect.

'All right, this has gone quite far enough.' Abruptly the Agent released his ki net and Kabu, caught unaware, dropped like a rock, landing with a sodden thud on the floor. The Agent watched warily as the baby pulled himself painfully to his hands and knees. Kabu rocked back on his haunches to look up at the Agent, teary blue eyes reflecting nothing but an honest sense of betrayal. The Agent snorted and aimed a half-hearted kick in Kabu's general direction.

"If you think you can make me feel guilty, kid, you've got another thing coming. Now go find something less destructive to do with yourself." Kabu sat stubbornly, pouting, as the Agent returned to his seat, grumbling something about troublesome monkey-tailed bratlings.

"M24-17, do you copy, over?" The Agent frowned at the console…it wasn't standard procedure to make contact without identifying oneself.

"This is M24-17," he replied guardedly. "Who wants to know?"

"This is Malak, speaking for King Deoge. We have arrived at the Changeling planet…we'd expected to find you here. Wherever you're going, Deoge requests that you return to make sure this planet is secure and then check out the situation on Geo."

"You didn't leave a communications officer on Geo?" the Agent asked, incredulous. "That was poor planning."

"I would have left one of the king's advisors in that position, but one was dead, the other missing, and I felt it more important to get Deoge off-world quickly than to waste my time finding some poor idiot to stick with the job."

"So we get to be your idiots. Remind me to thank you for that when next we meet," the Agent growled. Malak sighed.

"Just return and report, Agent. Is Takira with you?"

"Of course. You thought I'd dumped her somewhere?"

"Deoge wanted me to check that the three of you were still together and in satisfactory condition."

"Three of us?"

"Three of you," Malak repeated wearily, "or had you forgotten Takira's child?"

"No, I hadn't," the Agent grunted. "He's right here." 'Why would he care about the brat? What does he know that I don't?'

"Good. Reset your course and return immediately. Deoge expects to hear from you soon."

"Right." The Agent sighed and cut off the transmission without any of the usual protocol. Something dared interfere with his plans…he was not in the mood for frivolities. Giving Kabu a brief accusing glare, he began redirecting the ship.

* * * * *

"…that's what he said, anyhow," Gohan sighed, "and he sounded pretty sure of himself. I have to go, if only to check. If there's even the slightest change that Goten's there, I…" He trailed off, leaning heavily against the wall and glancing at Videl. He'd asked that she sit down to hear this, though truly he probably needed it more than she did. He just wanted to look strong for her…in control. He wanted her to see him as husband and protector again, instead of whatever unsavory image she'd been holding of him these past months.

Videl sat calmly on Gohan's bed(the only furniture in the tiny room that provided a seat), torn between joy over Gohan's recovery, hope for Goten, and dread over broken vows and dangerous voyages. Why was it that the moment things looked ready to go back to normal Gohan had some sort of instinctive need for engaging in hazardous activities?

"I have to do this, Videl," he repeated, giving her that desperate earnest look she never had built a resistance to; the one that asked permission and begged forgiveness both at once.

"Well, I suppose if you have to," she muttered, "I'd best let you go, hadn't I?"

"Please don't be upset…"

"I'm not upset," she said with a faint smile. "I'm coming with you."

"You're not. I can't let you do that." Videl lowered her eyes, looking hurt, and Gohan sat next to her on the bed, laying a hand over hers.

"It's not that I don't want you with me," he murmured. "I wish you could come with us…but we don't know what we're going to encounter, and I can't risk…" His voice grew softer, nearly a whisper. "I can't risk losing you. Please. Pan needs to have at least one parent around." He managed to force a weak smile. "You're a better role-model for her anyhow."

Videl didn't seem to have an immediate answer for that, and Gohan cupped a hand beneath her chin, turning her face to look at him.

"You're coming back," she said quietly; not a question…not a request.

"Of course I am." Slipping his hand behind her head, Gohan drew her into a slow, gentle kiss. She resisted a moment, still trying to protest, then allowed herself to drift in the sensation, wrapping her arms around him in an almost cautious embrace. It had been so long since he'd allowed her to touch him…she hadn't realized how much she'd missed this.

Gohan pulled her closer, shoving all thoughts of death and horror from his tired mind for now. The silence was perfect, soothing, and he was grateful. He had only one night alone with Videl before he left to fates unknown; he had to make it last as long as he could.