So, I actually started writing this before I wrote He Mele No Lilo, but that one just took off like a rocket. I'll do my best to update consistantly, but the fall is a ridiculously busy time for me. So please be understanding if I'm a little helter-skelter. I think I spelled that wrong XD. Anyway, please enjoy this fluffy fic of fluffy goodness.

Silence, that nearly unattainable state of nature, presided over the Lookout. It was so rare elsewhere, yet here, so high above the Earth's surface, where not even the blaring horns and other city noises could reach, it was shocking how easily it was obtained.

He sighed, the faintest ghost of a smile flitting across his lips for a nanosecond before he hid it away again. Completely relaxed; head bowed, arms crossed across his well-muscled chest, legs folded underneath, Piccolo floated a few feet above the tiled floor of the Lookout. He reveled in the Silence, knowing that even here, in a god's palace, that Silence was only temporary, and fleeting.

It may have been one hour, two, or five. Or it could have been fifteen minutes. Either way, the silence ended far too soon for him. If he couldn't have his waterfall, then he wanted silence. However, it seemed that a certain young-Kami-in- training was in desperate need of companionship.

Dende approached cautiously, not wishing to disturb Piccolo, as the older Namekian had a tendency for testiness when drawn out of his meditation in the wrong way. Before Dende had a chance to speak up, Piccolo said gruffly: "lonely, eh?"

Dende nodded nervously, "y-yes sir."

"You do realize I'm not much good for company, right?" Piccolo chuckled, slowly and purposefully unfolding from his meditation. "Are you bored, or simply missing the companionship of other Namekians?"
Dende shuffled his feet, seemingly very interested in his shoes.

"Um, well..." he gulped, "actually..."

Piccolo raised a brow, "Spit it out, Dende."

The young Namekian flushed, green skin taking on an oddly magenta hue, then he blurted out "I miss being around other children!" Dende clutched his burgundy vest tightly, wringing the fabric in his hands.

"Is that it?" Piccolo asked, privately thinking that Dende would benefit from a month or two alone in the wilderness. Kami knows the boy needed to toughen up! If he was to become Kami's successor in truth, then he needed to have more of a back bone, if approaching "grumpy old Mr. Piccolo" was too terrifying a task, then acting as Guardian of the Earth would be impossible. Pondering how much trouble he would be in if he left Dende alone where he'd dumped Gohan, Piccolo was brought back to his senses when the other two beings in his head mentally kicked him, Nail delivering quite a nasty one too. Shaking off his thoughts and fusions, Piccolo returned his attention to the young Guardian. "How about I take you to see Gohan?" as the words came out, Piccolo's excitement grew - not outwardly noticeable, of course - at the prospect of seeing his closest friend. It had been almost two months since they had last spent any quality time together. These days, Gohan was too busy helping his mother to care for his three month old brother, Goten. Lately, Gohan had been able to manage only a short spar a few times a week, just enough to maintain his fighting shape. Barely enough... Piccolo thought sourly. Although Gohan was no longer in peak condition, he was still more than strong enough to best Piccolo in a match. A wry smile crossed his emerald lips. "Yes, I think a visit to Gohan would be good for us - for you." Piccolo corrected himself quickly, but he knew that Dende had heard his slip up.

The young Namekian beamed; his antennae bouncing happily as he skipped around Piccolo for a moment, humming joyously. He halted suddenly, as if frozen, before placing his left foot back on the ground.

"Will Earth be okay without me for a few hours?"

Piccolo raised a brow, a few hours? Dende needed more playtime than a few hours. He was quite certain that was Nail's insertion, but he agreed all the same. Gohan needed a weekend, at least - and so did Dende.

"Of course," he said. "When I died, Kami passed as well. Earth was without a Guardian for a little over a month. Besides, you're not leaving the planet. Just the Sanctuary. And only for a weekend."

Dende's eyes widened, "A whole weekend?" he said slowly, turning the thought over in his young mind. His little green face lit up with happiness - Piccolo never could get bored of a child's smile, especially not if he was part of the cause. "What are we going to do?"

"I," The older Namekian murmured, "am going to sit here and wait for you to tell Mr. Popo, and gather anything you need for two nights and two days."

Dende clapped his hands, so young, so childlike, and scampered off.

"Damn these kids," Piccolo sighed, watching Dende fondly, "little brats are making me soft." Of course, he didn't mind. The softness wasn't weakness after all.

Just a different kind of strength.

Piccolo awaited Dende at the edge of the Lookout. Mr. Popo was currently giving the young Guardian instructions to be helpful, observant, and as discreet as was possible for a green alien child to be.

Piccolo rolled his eyes, "Gohan lives in the middle of nowhere; no one who is not accustomed to aliens is going to see him."

Popo waved off Piccolo's growled sentence. "Now Dende, I want you to use this experience to better your understanding of this planet. Learn how it feels to the people of Earth. You shall find it very different than up here in the Sanctuary of the Lookout."

Dende nodded enthusiastically. "I promise that I shall!"

Piccolo huffed in impatience. He really wanted to get going. It would take at least an hour to reach Gohan's house; Dende couldn't fly quite as fast as he could. Much to the warrior's relief, Dende scurried over to him, waving goodbye to Mr. Popo and adjusting his grip on his on his small satchel of belongings. With one last wave to Mr. Popo, Dende leapt off of the Lookout, Piccolo close behind.

The two Namekians plummeted earthward for a long, exhilarating moment before Dende's courage failed him. Despite still having several thousand feet to fall, Dende decided to control his descent from here on out. Piccolo didn't completely mind; free falling still made him uncomfortable at times, although he could have continued for another moment or two.

After reaching a more comfortable altitude - it must have been the Godly magic of the Lookout that made breathing possible so high up in the atmosphere - the two leveled out, heading in the direction of the Son Residence.

"Piccolo?" Dende called over the wind rushing past their ears, "is Gohan's mother going to be okay with me being at their house?"

"Don't worry about her," focus on flying.

"You're staying, right?"

Grunt. Of course. What was it with children and silly questions? Even Gohan and Dende, both mature for their age, still possessed that childlike innocence that so intrigued the warrior Namekian.

Dende, assured that his strange friend would remain close by, shot ahead of Piccolo in his excitement.

"Boy has more speed than I gave him credit for," Piccolo murmured, before catching up. He caught Dende easily, snatching the child around the waist and, with a blast of ki, exploded in the direction of Gohan's house. Dende held on to Piccolo's gi for all he was worth, antennae flattened to his skull by the force of the wind created by Piccolo's speed.

The two Namekians reached the Son household within ten minutes at Piccolo's increased speed. Before they could land though, a purple and blonde blur shot up to meet them.

"What is it Piccolo?! We don't have to f-...?" Gohan blinked in confusion, noticing Dende for the first time. "Fight...?"

Piccolo chuckled, "So quick to transform? Power down kid, there's no threat to earth."

Relieved, Gohan's hair returned to its natural ebony, eyes from turquoise back to obsidian. "With how fast you were moving, I thought for sure that something was wrong," he explained. "Then I saw you Dende, and got all confused. Piccolo would never put you in the middle of a fight!" he laughed, scratching his head. "How are you doing, Dende? Piccolo?"

Dende scrambled out of Piccolo's arms, dropping a foot or two before steadying himself, "I was lonely, so Piccolo told me he would bring me here for the weekend!"

Gohan's eyes lit up with excitement - Piccolo knew the boy didn't have much time to play, especially not with children his own age. Piccolo frowned imperceptibly, besides Dende, Gohan did not even know anyone his age!

Piccolo caught Gohan staring up at him, beaming.

"Thanks Piccolo! I'm sorry I haven't been able to visit as often as I want to," a small twinge of sadness passed through Piccolo as he remembered the days of training for the Androids. Times had changed so much... With Goku gone for keeps this time, Gohan was the man of the house. At twelve years old. Well, eleven if you didn't count the time in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber. That too sent a pang through the warrior. Had it really been seven years ago that he'd first seen Gohan? Six since he'd died for him? Gohan was growing up. "Piccolo?" Gohan asked, tugging at his gi, "Are you Okay?"

Dende floated up to Piccolo's face, touching his forehead. "He's fine," the little Namekian smiled impishly at him. Piccolo swatted Dende away gently. Dende mostly avoided Piccolo's hand, ducking out of the way.

Gohan laughed, "You were thinking, weren't you Mr. Piccolo?"

"You haven't called me 'Mr.' Piccolo since you were six," Piccolo muttered, ignoring Gohan's question. "Don't start that childish nonsense up again."

"Hahaha okay Piccolo." Gohan looked at his house, a hundred feet below them. "We'd better go down," he said, "My mom's probably having a conniption..."

Dende grabbed Gohan's hand and shot earthward, laughing joyously. Gohan joined in, allowing Dende to drag him, even though the half-Saiyan could have easily blown past the young Namekian. Piccolo followed at a more dignified pace, descending straight down, feet first. His toes, then heels, touched down lightly in the Son's front yard. Gohan was loudly and ecstatically telling his mother about Dende's visit. "You remember Dende, right Mom?!" Gohan chattered, still holding Dende's hand. "He came with us to Earth from Namek! He took over for Kami, now that Piccolo and Kami became One again."

Chichi nodded, bouncing a gurgling baby in her arms. "Yes, how could I forget?" Chichi smiled kindly at the young Guardian, "after all, you saved my baby while on Namek."

"Mooooooooom!" Gohan looked mortified, "I'm almost thirteen! Goten's the baby!"

Chichi shook her head, "you will always be my baby, no matter how old you get."

Piccolo emitted a low chuckle, walking towards the trio - really, quartet, if one counted Goten - and stopped five feet from Chichi. "And you'll always be 'kid' to me." he nodded politely to Chichi. "Dende needs time to be a child. Gohan's the only one I know." There was a feigned off-handedness to his statement, but he was well aware that Chichi would see through it.

"Not surprising," she said pointedly, a smile on her face. "You're not exactly the babysitting type." The two adults and infant watched the children in amusement. They were engaged in a game of "Extreme Tag" which, although the rules specifically prohibited ki blasts, was far more intense than regular tag, for the contestants could fly.
"They grow up so quickly," the women murmured.

Piccolo turned to examine her face; he was surprised at how much she had aged since last he'd seen her, at Goku's funeral service almost a year ago. He supposed it had something to do with losing her husband, having a baby, and taking care of Gohan. She didn't look older, per say, just more mature, maybe a little calmer. Somehow, he doubted that she was any less of a spitfire than she had been at the Strongest under the Heavens Martial Arts Tournament.

"Yes," Piccolo agreed, nodding slowly.

Chichi adjusted her hold on Goten, using her free hand to wipe her eyes. "It seems like only yesterday..." she choked.

Normally, Piccolo would have been irked that the woman was displaying such emotion so openly, however, this time, Piccolo knew much of what Chichi was feeling; he too was watching the Kid grow up, and experiencing the pangs of parenthood. Parenthood. He frowned.

Chichi didn't seem to notice. She was staring past him, out into the woods, back into the past. Piccolo felt like he was intruding upon something private. Sacred, even.

"Gohan used to love going camping with Goku..." she sighed, bouncing Goten in her arms. Her eyes misted, and she shook her head to clear it. Suddenly, a new, more energized expression crossed her face; Piccolo wasn't sure he liked the look of it. It only confirmed his early suspicions about her. "Why don't you take the boys camping?! Then I could call Bulma, and we can have a baby date."

Piccolo stared down at the mother of his best friend. He blinked twice, slowly. "Camping?"

"Yes, camping." Chichi's usual commanding tone returned to her voice. "You know, like what you and Gohan did when you kidnapped him."

It took Piccolo a moment to decide whether or not Chichi was being sarcastic or light hearted. He caught a twinkle in her eye and decided upon the latter. He shrugged, "I wasn't questioning the activity. Merely that you'd allow Gohan out of your sight," he allowed a feral grin to grace his features, fangs glinting, "especially since I'm around."

He regretted his joke as Chichi pulled the dreaded frying pan out of nowhere. Baby in one hand, indestructible cooking utensil in the other, Chichi glared daggers at the tall Namekian. The two excited boys stopped their game. Staring. "Can't even crack a joke," Piccolo growled, eying the frying pan wielding mother and her weapon warily, "without everyone jumping on my back." He crossed his arms in annoyance. Or at least that's what it appeared to be. Piccolo was barely able to admit to himself that the woman intimidated him. A little bit. Not that anyone would ever know. Except maybe Gohan, whom Piccolo heard emit a small, badly suppressed titter of laughter. He scowled, damn kid knew him too well. Only Gohan would have recognized the look in the Namekian's onyx black eyes.

Chichi glared for a moment longer, giving Piccolo a look that easily would have frozen Hell over. The she smiled, "If you decided to fluctuate your vocal patterns, we wouldn't have these problems."

Piccolo sighed inwardly, but allowed none on his internal relief to show on his face. Gohan probably knew; Kid had that annoying ability to know exactly what was on his mind at all times.

"Are you really taking us camping, Piccolo?" Gohan peeped.

"What's a 'camping'?" Dende whispered, cupping his small green hand around his mouth and Gohan's ear.

"You've never gone camping?!" the half-Saiyan exclaimed, his voice cracking and straining Piccolo's ears. "Never gone camping..." Gohan shook his head, disbelieving. "Can you believe that, Piccolo?" he called. At that moment, the adolescent boy looked exactly like the four- and-a-half year-old he had "borrowed without permission" all of those years ago. Very short years.

Piccolo shrugged, "It's not a necessity, Kid."

"Yeah but it's fun..." Gohan grumbled. Then he brightened, grabbing Dende by the forearm and dragging the Namekian boy behind him into the humble house, "Help me pack and I'll explain it! You're gonna love camping Dende!"

"I didn't say I would do it," Piccolo growled, loud enough for Gohan and Dende to hear. But the Kid knew. He always knew. The sound of Gohan's laughter pealed pleasantly in his ears. Not too loud, nor high pitched.

Well, that's all for now. I actually have more of it written, so chapters two and three should be out shortly. I figure it will probably be 5 chapters. And sometime in the very near future I'll have Piccolo and Chichi one-shot up. It's about halfway done in an extra notebook.

Don't worry, no romance XD Although I'm not saying I'll never write some Chiccolo/FryingpanShip stories ) Because that's my Dragon Ball OTP. No lie.

~Wulfeh