Kate: Sorry chapter 5 is so late. I'm forgetful and something of a nit-pick. Please review and tell me what you think of it.

Chapter 5: The Dastard and The Con

When Gohan reached the bottom of the stairs, he knew even before the light from the sconces reached his eyes that he had probably been tricked. The scent in what he had assumed to be a large system of underground tunnels, or at least a cave system, was unmistakably damp earth, alcohol, and Sayain. The shallow echo of his footsteps set in stone the fact that his idiocy was legendary. The Universe had to be playing a very elaborate and long-term prank on him. His luck couldn't possibly have been so terrible if outside forces weren't involved.

"Wow," Gohan laughed humorlessly. "You sure have a way of bolstering faith in a planet, don't you?"

He must have been a sucker for saving the world. How could he have believed anything said by two Sayains he just met? He had believed simply because deep down, somewhere beneath the hatred he felt for being tricked, he wanted to believe in them. He had resolved himself to staying out of the limelight when that poltergeist like Sayain switched lives with him on the hill. Where had that resolve gone? Furthermore, where had that face-stealing bastard gone? Gohan had more than just a few words to share with him when they met back up on the hill.

"You had him pegged perfectly, Vegeta," Bardock snorted. There was a pop, and the distinct sound of someone chugging something.

A candle was lit, and then another, and then another, illuminating a wine cellar barely big enough to fit all six of them, never mind thirty-thousand warriors. It smelled like sweat and damp packed dirt. Along the far wall, if a wall he could touch from where he was standing could be called that, there was a long, floor to ceiling wine rack jam-packed with bottles filled with liquids of varying colors of disgusting. Candles lined all the other walls in what looked like wrought iron sconces. For being made of dirt, Gohan found the room extremely square and level.

"What do you gain from branding me a criminal?" Gohan shoved the two lying, conniving jerks out of the way, and sat on a stair just a little above Vegeta's eye line. One knee was on the stair directly below him, and the other two steps down. He placed his elbow on the higher knee and leaned toward the Sayain who seemed dead-bent on impeding his progress every step of the way.

"A lot, actually," Vegeta replied.

Vegeta sat directly before him on the only unstacked wine cask in the room, glaring at him unabashedly. If Gohan hadn't been so angry at him, he might have thought that the furious and fierce look on the Prince's face was adorable, or attractive, or beautiful, or – well it didn't matter because he was mad, and he didn't think any of those things anyway. Gohan diverted his eyes.

"Like what? Being associated with a murderer?" Gohan felt snarky, and he didn't hide it in his voice. "Yeah, we can totally have tea parties in the royal court. No one will think it's weird. We'll get a medal and a street named after us to commemorate the day the Prince became cohorts with a criminal."

Radditz, who was leaning against the left dirt wall between two sconces, must have thought him ballsy, because he smirked and shook his head in the same way he had seen the Vegeta back home show his bemusement.

Bardock was far too busy inspecting the alcoholic beverages covering the wall and picking out his favorites to have any reaction to his outburst whatsoever. There were three empty bottles by Bardock's feet. He would never before that moment thought any Sayain capable of being a quiet drunk. Gohan wondered how anyone could possibly drink something chunky without thinking about how it would feel the same coming up as it did going down. Maybe Bardock liked vomit? That was beside the point.

"To start, you can't move independently anymore, which limits the places you can escape to." Vegeta was completely unfazed by Gohan's comments. He was just as calm as he had been when Gohan had walked down the stairs.

Gohan sniffed the air. He was wrong. Vegeta was different… somehow. The air smelled spicy, tense, and familiar, and the look Vegeta was sending him was not of resentment or frustration, but one of determination and challenge.

Gohan inhaled sharply and let out a large sneeze. He wiped his nose with his the bottom of his cloak and blinked a few times to return to the matter at hand.

"I gave you my terms," Gohan said. "Ah, hold on!" Another sneeze escaped him, another, and then another, each louder and more violent than the one before it. "I think I'm allergic to something down here." Gohan said, completely without the use of his nose. He had never been allergic to anything in his life before, so it was a little disturbing. He had never considered the possibility that he would contract some sort of illness that native Sayains had gained immunity to, but that off-world Sayains were never exposed to before.

Bardock looked away from the wine rack, first to Gohan, and then to Vegeta. When he met Radditz's eyes, the two started howling in laughter and Gohan couldn't figure out what the hell they thought was so funny.

"Can it!" Vegeta snarled.

Gohan felt the involuntary inhale that happened before a sneeze, and in the moments before the sneeze exploded from his nose, he thought he had glimpsed a rare sight. If he hadn't been so busy sneezing, he was sure he could have verified that the flushed face he had seen had really appeared on Vegeta's face.

"What do you want from me?" Gohan asked.

"We've been over this before. Kill the King, and get rid of that STD-ridden space lizard."

"I'll scratch your back if you'll scratch mine. If you'd just take care of your own goddamned people we wouldn't have a problem." Gohan stood and hit the back of his cloak a few times, efficiently getting out the dirt he had sat on. "Isn't that what it means to be King?"

"We've come up with another solution. With Kabu and Yasai's help, we've confirmed you're strong enough, and all you have to do is agree to our simple request, and everything will be solved," Bardock said. He didn't seem to think the topic was important enough to look away from the wine rack for.

"There's always a catch. Spit it out."

"We'll get to that in time," Radditz interrupted, "and don't give me shit about getting up and leaving. We've got some collateral that might help convince you to lend a hand."

"Prove it," Gohan challenged.

As if everything in the Universe had conspired against him, a muffle shout and a repetitive banging noise assaulted Gohan's ears.

The prince stood and with one swift kick knocked the wine barrel over. The loose barrel cover fell off, and a familiar being tumbled out.

"Shoran?"

When Piccolo returned from his evening hunt, the man who had been playing with the speckled fish in the pond with the joy of child a quarter of his visible age was gone. Piccolo hadn't been gone for very long, maybe an hour, and from what he could gather, it seemed like the Gohan impostor couldn't fly. He couldn't possibly be far, and that was enough for Piccolo.

With ease, he tossed the beast he had slain just inside the mouth of the elevated limestone cave near the tree they had eaten under the previous day. In early spring the cave would start to fill with rivulets of melted snow, and by the time all the birds returned to the area, a violet torrent would spray forth from the mouth of the cave. By the time summer rolled around the waters would dry up completely, creating a perfect seasonal living space for the society-alienated alien. All of the places he stayed were seasonal, and each time some reporter came looking for him, he had to relocate entirely.

He reached out with his mind, staring blankly up at the body of the meal he had planned to prepare, but there was no one around for a hundred miles in any direction. His hands tensed into fists. He had been hoodwinked. His desire to monopolize the real Gohan had bled like an ink pen exploding, painting over into his duties to the Earth, to his Sayain friends, and to the true Gohan.

How could he have believed anything such a suspicious person said? He was not a very trusting person, but he bought every word that con-artist sold.

"What's got you so angry?"

Piccolo spun around. He was standing by the lake, like nothing had happened and he had been playing in the water the whole time.

"What really made you switch places with Gohan?" Piccolo asked him.

"Family, but I said that, didn't I?" The smile he wore seemed so honest.

Piccolo's blood covered hand wrapped around the man's neck. Piccolo saw the shock in his eyes seconds before he was thrown into the earth at their feet.

"No, that's not what you said at all." Piccolo pinned him to the ground with a foot. "I've had time to sort through your story, but things haven't added up since the moment you opened your mouth."

The younger man had had the air knocked out of him. It took him almost a minute until he was able to draw in a breath. "I don't understand what you're talking about."

"You're not even Sayain, are you?" Piccolo ground his foot into the felled man's chest.

"That's news to me."

Piccolo looked up from the cringing expression of the body-snatcher, to the furious face of the one and only Sayain Prince.

"I think we need to have a little talk." Leaning against the gray rock beneath the mouth of the cave was the frame of the one and only Sayain Prince.

The night was bright, the overcast sky trapping and distributing the long gone sun's rays. Hovering outside of one the white stone palace's many arched windows, Gohan waited. He was angrier than he had ever been in recent years, and his hatred and rage rivaled that of worst in his lifetime. His entire being rebelled against him, wanting to be anywhere other than where he was, doing anything other than what he was forced to do.

The room inside was anything but modest. Emerald tapestry hung on the walls and windows. A four posted bed, larger than any he could see reasonable use for, took up almost half the room. Opposite the footboard, a fire roared in its place in the stone and mortar wall. Sleeping soundly in the bed was a man who looked quite a bit like Vegeta, but older, and bearded.

It was cowardly the way he was doing this. Could he ever forgive himself for what he was going to do? Was he really placing the value of an orphan over that of a king? The answer he found was terribly negative to his honor and his self-confidence.

Gohan slipped into the room, and walked to the man's bedside.

"If he can't even do his own dirty work, do you think he'll make that great a King?"

Gohan jumped only a little at the man's voice. The King opened his eyes and sat up, relaxing against the heavily ornamented wooden headboard.

"That's not for me to decide," Gohan answered. With his right arm raised, and hand in the shape of a gun, a bright light started to form in front of his outstretched fingertips.

"You escaped, I see," the man smiled.

Gohan's brow creased, but he didn't lower his arm or end the imminent death promise that glowed in front of his hand. "What are you talking about?"

The King stared into his eyes, trying to discern something. "Your cape."

Gohan shook his head, confused. "What about it?"

"Where did you get it?" He asked.

Gohan didn't answer. He couldn't answer. How was he supposed to explain his situation without entirely blowing his time-swapping cover? He swallowed the nervous lump that had gathered in his throat.

The King started laughing, rambunctiously and joyously. There was a knock on the door.

"M'lord, is everything alright?"

"Yes, everything is fine. Take the rest of the night for yourself, you have worked hard," the King shouted to the guard outside.

"Uh, thank you, thank you!" Gohan heard his footfalls get quieter and felt the guard's presence leave.

"Whatever you gave to get your hands on that cape wasn't worth the trade."

"I know that better than anyone," Gohan said. "I traded something irreplaceable for a lousy piece of cloth."

The King chuckled softly. "It's not just a piece of cloth, boy."

"What are you talking about?" Gohan demanded.

"You can't take it off, can you?" The King smiled. "Get to it, boy. If you're going to kill me, do it now. The Elite Guard is heading this way, and your escape window is closing."

"But you sent the guard away!"

"As if I'd ever praise a simple guard for hard work."

Gohan was upset, but couldn't find it in himself to get angry at the man. After all, he had come to kill him in his sleep, and if the man hadn't done something in retaliation, it would have eaten Gohan alive from the inside out. Not to mention how very familiar the man felt. It reminded him of sparring with Vegeta on Earth, and growing up with Vegeta as a figure of authority.

"Are you going to get to it, fugitive, or should I go back to sleep?"

Gohan's hand relaxed and fell to his side, the death threat disappearing with his rage. "How?"

"It's a common bedtime story. I've told it to my children countless times, although I never believed the Cloak of Fading actually existed."

"What does that mean?"

"You should get going if you plan to leave without being seen."

He sighed, but nodded. Gohan bowed to the King, and headed to the window.

"The clock is ticking, boy, and I can only protect you for so long. Once your time is up, there is no bringing you back."

Gohan looked over his shoulder. "Thank you," he whispered, and disappeared into the bright, overcast sky.

"He doesn't have to tell you anything," Piccolo said.

Piccolo removed his foot from the man's chest, and placed himself between the two Sayains. Until he heard the truth from the lying man's lips, there was nothing that could interrupt and not pay a steep price.

"No, I think it's just about time. The window for undoing it all has already closed," the man masquerading as Gohan said.

Piccolo turned and watched him stand. He dusted himself off, and smiled as if nothing had happened, as if Piccolo's violent actions had not even fazed him. He sat down on a flat rock not ten feet away from where he had supposedly had the shit beaten out of him.

"Come, sit," Gohan smiled, gesturing to two other rocks around the fire pit. "Make some lunch and I'll tell you what you need to know."

Piccolo flew to the cave and picked up the carcass. By the time he had it skewered and brought to the two Sayains, the fire pit was already filled with wood and lit ablaze. He placed it over the open fire and sat.

"Much as you expected, I am not Gohan," the man said.

Piccolo looked up at the endlessly blue sky. It felt like he was looking up at the surface from the bottom of a lake, drowning, smothered by the weight of the clear water.

"Where is the real Gohan?" Vegeta asked.

"He's on Vejita-sei, studying the local culture, last I heard."

"Vejita-sei was destroyed many years ago," Vegeta argued.

"Then he's visiting some point before it was destroyed."

"That's impossible! If it could have been done, I would have done it!" Vegeta shouted.

"You couldn't have done it. Our compatibility is high, but not as high as Gohan and my own."

Piccolo closed his eyes. He had almost enjoyed having the liar all to himself, and now that everything was being disclosed, it felt like he was losing Gohan all over again.

"Why did you come to Earth?" Piccolo asked.

"I didn't actually mean to come here. It's a bit far from my desired destination. I had hoped to be a little closer to Vejita-sei's coordinates, but this will have to do."

Piccolo didn't ask any further questions. It kind of stung that he was speaking so coldly to him now, even though they had spent the past few days alone together.

"Have you ever heard of the Cloak of Fading, by any chance?" he asked.

Piccolo opened his eyes in time to see Vegeta's mouth fall ajar. Piccolo had never heard of such a cloak, but Vegeta obviously had, and he wasn't very happy to hear it mentioned.

"You know it?" Piccolo asked Vegeta.

"It's a story told to Sayain brats before bed. Its complete allegory: you do something unforgivable, and you will be punished accordingly. It's a Sayain story told to get young children to behave," Vegeta said slowly, as if having a hard time believing what he was saying.

"It's not allegory at all. I did something inexcusable, and was trapped in the void. My sentence ran its course, and I was supposed to be set free close to a thousand years ago, but no one came for me. I saw my opportunity to get out, and I took it. From the time I arrived, I had seven days to find my jailors, and get them to revoke my sentence."

"What happens after the seven days?"

"I gave Gohan the Cloak of Fading. When time runs out, and this hasn't been resolved, we will both be brought back to the void and we will never be allowed to leave."

Piccolo lunged for the man's throat, but Vegeta beat him to it. Vegeta choked the man, slamming his head against the rock he had been sitting on only moments earlier.

"Why?" Slam. "Why?" Slam. "Why?" Slam.

"Because now you have no choice but to help me," the Gohan impersonator smiled.

Kate: This is much more elaborate than most of my other stories, I know, but I hope you still enjoy it. Please review and tell me what you think! If I don't update for a while, please PM me and remind me!