Hi, guys! I know this is long overdue, but hopefully everyone read the Status Update! note on my profile, which sheds light on my severe tardiness.

Now, heads up: this is not the complete chapter I've been working on. This is the beginning of it, and after realizing how much more work has to go into this chapter, I figured I could give you guys this much at least while I continue to work on it.

It's late, so I'll have to thoroughly check for grammatical errors tomorrow. I'm hoping there aren't any, it's a pet peeve of mine.

So, without further ado, I hope this whets your appetites :)

This chapter contains: Adult Language, Some Adult Content, Some Violence.

Piccolo grunted softly in his sleep. Someone was calling to him. The insistent voice gently pulled him from his slumber. It was a patient voice, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Anxiety welled in the pit of his stomach. He no longer felt Bulma's warmth... Where is she? Why isn't she the one calling to him?

Piccolo listened closely. He knew this voice. It was a male, an older male, and the voice was so obnoxiously familiar that a scowl twisted the Namekian warrior's face before he fully came to his senses.

His eyes snapped open to find the unwelcome presence peering down at him. "Kami..." he snarled, severely annoyed to find the elder Namekian invading his dreams again. "What the hell do you want?"

The serene sage simply smiled and lightly chuckled. "Come with me, Piccolo." he said with a motion of his head, his white robe and dark blue cape sweeping as he turned and walked away.

Piccolo frowned and sat upright. He noticed he was clothed in his usual attire, and was inwardly grateful for it. At least the old fool didn't leave me nude.

He rose to his feet and followed after the elder Namekian. "I'm sick of these unannounced pop-ups, Kami," he shouted as they walked through an exuberant field of pink and white ajisa flowers. "What do you want this time?"

"Calm down, Piccolo. I'm simply providing the gateway for your visitor, and then I shall leave. You have my word."

Piccolo's frown deepened. "Visitor? What visitor?"

A platform similar to The Lookout suddenly lit up, and if Piccolo hadn't watched the elder Namekian step onto it, he would've stumbled over it for sure. "Goodness me, so many questions. Why so inquisitive, Piccolo?"

Overhead, a traditional shoji door materialized and dropped with a light thud to the platform. Piccolo eyed the door suspiciously as Kami reached for it. Kami glanced over his shoulder and gave Piccolo a small smile. "Why not just see for yourself?" Kami slid the screen open, and blinding rays of sunlight flashed through, and then dimmed to reveal the world on the other side of the door.

Kami nodded and gestured with a wave of his hand for the younger Namekian to enter first, and Piccolo absentmindedly proceeded ahead, not even taking a moment to mentally scold himself for it. Normally, he has scathing sarcasm at the ready for anything Kami says or does. But, for the moment, the realm he'd just stepped into overshadowed his ever-present contempt for the elder Namekian.

The sky in this realm–it's fuchsia! Piccolo gaped in awe at the vividly bright heavens, absolutely certain of one thing: this was not Earth. He took a couple of steps and realized he was on the roof of a mansion. He walked to the railing and glanced down at a rather spacious driveway and well-manicured lawn. "Where are we?" Piccolo asked, hands on the railing as he leant over it and peered inside the many windows adorning the stately, marble white manor he and Kami stood atop.

"Grand Kai's planet in Other World." Kami answered. He joined his young counterpart at the railing and laced his hands behind his back. "This is his mansion."

"Who's Grand Kai?"

"The ruler of the four galaxies. He oversees the four Kais and reports to the Eastern Supreme Kai. The Eastern Supreme Kai reports to the Grand Supreme Kai, as do the Western, Northern and Southern Supreme Kais."

Piccolo arched a brow and glanced at Kami. "So, King Kai and the others are the managers, Grand Kai is the CEO, the board of directors consists of the Supreme Kais, and the Grand Supreme Kai is the chairman."

Kami seemed to ponder that synopsis and, upon realizing it to be true, released a merry chuckle. "You could say that, yes."

A smirk twisted Piccolo's mouth and he turned away, not wanting Kami to see it. He was annoyed and, quite frankly, embarrassed that the old fool's laugh brought a smile to his face. Last thing he needed was Kami glimpsing it. The wise sage would undoubtedly know what the smile stemmed from, and that would just kill Piccolo's ego.

Clearing his throat and crossing his arms, Piccolo inquired, "So, what does Grand Kai want with me?"

Kami shot him an amused look. "Oh, he isn't the one who sent for you."

Piccolo frowned and turned in Kami's direction. "Then...who did?" Kami didn't answer, just smiled, and every fiber in Piccolo's body stiffened upon suddenly feeling a strong hand clamp down on his left shoulder. Piccolo yelled out–not exactly a macho move–and jerked around. "Goku?!"

Indeed, it was his dear frenemy, or perhaps just friend is better suited. The Saiyan warrior smiled that goofy smile that Piccolo had become accustomed to seeing upon his youngest son's face, and it instantly relaxed him. "Hey, Piccolo! It's good to see you! It's been a long time!" He gave Piccolo a friendly pat on the arm, and waved at Kami, whom nodded in return.

"Yes, it has." Piccolo said with a small smile. "Four years, to be precise. How've you been, Goku?"

Goku placed his hands on his hips and shrugged. "I get homesick now and then, but I can't really complain. I've been here since the Cell Games, trading jokes with King Kai, chasing Bubbles and Gregory around, and training with Pikkon."

Piccolo arched a brow. "Pikkon?"

"Yeah, Pikkon. Green guy, about my size, kind of quiet, strategic fighter–he's always reminded me of you, actually–like, the dead version of you."

Piccolo crossed his arms. "Hmph, so you've found a replacement for me, have you?"

Goku giggled and held his hands up. "C'mon, Piccolo! The guy's my size, he could never fill your shoes!"

Piccolo chuckled. "If you say so, Goku. Now, why did you have Kami bring me here?"

Goku laughed sheepishly and nervously scratched the back of his head. He peeked at Kami over Piccolo's shoulder and then stepped closer to him. He stood on his tippy toes, and Piccolo briefly glanced at Goku's revolving halo before watching the Saiyan place his right hand to his mouth. "Is it true?" Goku whispered. Piccolo frowned questioningly and whispered back, "Is what true?"

"And why are you whispering?" Kami interjected. "I may be old, but my hearing is as exceptional as Piccolo's." They glanced at him, Piccolo looking annoyed and Goku looking embarrassed.

"Oh, right, I totally forgot! Well, in that case..." Goku returned his attention to Piccolo and repeated in a normal tone, "Is it true?" Piccolo's eyes hooded at the Saiyan, and Goku could swear a puff of steam came out along with the Namekian's agitated huff. "Is what true, Goku?"

Goku twiddled his thumbs, swished his tail bashfully, and uttered the longest umm in the world. When he could hold it no longer, he took a deep breath and revealed what was on his mind. "You and Bulma..."

A light gasp escaped the Namekian, and his eyes widened. He uncrossed his arms and took a quick step back. Bumping into Kami brought another gasp out of him, and he leapt to his right several feet from them.

He could feel the sting of the dark purple blush overtaking his face, painted on by Goku and Kami, by their silent stares. Their shared expressions were awkward and curious. Separately, Kami seemed confused and uneasy, and Goku seemed amused and overly interested.

"How...h-how do you know about us?"

Goku's eyes widened. "Us?!" the goofy Saiyan repeated in a high pitch tone. He wasn't even trying to hide his overzealous delight anymore. Piccolo's blush darkened, and shock settled upon Goku's face as he concluded, "Holy smokes, King Kai was telling the truth..."

Piccolo's head was swimming. A toxic mix of anxiety and anger rushed through his veins. It took all of his strength not to pass out. "K-King Kai, what-what? How does he know?!..." Piccolo was struggling to breathe. He gawked at Goku and Kami, but he wasn't really paying attention to them.

How? That was all he could think. How did King Kai know? It took a second, but then it dawned on him, and he bellowed in a blind rage, "HE'S BEEN WATCHING ME, HASN'T HE?!"

Goku tittered, and tried to play it down. "Well, he checks in on all his students from time to time, you know. It's not just you, and he doesn't watch you constantly or anything-"

"WHERE IS HE?! WHERE IS THAT STUBBY LITTLE BASTARD?! I'M GOING TO RIP HIS GODDAMN ANTENNAS OFF! THEN WE'LL SEE HOW CLAIRVOYANT HE IS! EITHER HE SHOWS HIS FACE RIGHT NOW, OR I'LL TEAR THIS WHOLE GODDAMN PLANET APART TILL I FIND HIM!"

Both Goku and Kami threw their hands up and repeated, "Whoa," several times at that candid proclamation. "Calm yourself, Piccolo," urged Kami. "Here, you cannot back that statement up. Not to mention, you'd have to explain yourself to Grand Kai. The man is easygoing, but I'm quite certain he'd be none too pleased with you wreaking havoc on his planet."

"YOU THINK I CARE?!"

"You should, because you can't-"

"SHUT UP, KAMI!" Piccolo closed in on Goku, and grabbed a fistful of his dark blue undershirt. "What did King Kai tell you?" Piccolo's sudden low tone brought a hint of fear to the Saiyan's face, and the Namekian would've taken a little satisfaction in that if Goku weren't still smiling.

"Look, chill, Piccolo, he basically told me nothing, alright, honest! All he said was you two liked each other, a lot, and that was it! I couldn't get anything else out of him! That's why I asked Kami to bring you here, so I could get all the details straight from the horse's mouth."

Piccolo stammered incredulously and shoved Goku back. "As if I would tell you anything!"

Goku cackled and stepped closer to him. "Yeah, I knew you wouldn't. I guess...straight from the horse's mind is what I meant."

Piccolo tilted his head at Goku and frowned. A slow, almost slurred, "Huh," was all he could manage. Can you say discombobulated? 'Cause all six of those syllables is why Piccolo was a little slow on the uptake. It wasn't until Goku's ever-widening grin widened into a mischievous smile that Piccolo finally caught on, and horror befell his rich features.

He took a step back, but as he did, Goku's tail lashed playfully. Shit! He turned on his heels and bolted, but only got a few steps before falling to the ground as Goku pounced on him.

He screamed, "NO, NO," as the Saiyan straddled his back and pinned him to the ground with his left forearm. "GOKU, NO! STOP! GET OFF ME!" Piccolo flailed his arms and legs, looking very much like a pitiful child being dominated by his older sibling. Kami watched the display with a strained expression, conflicted as to whether he should intervene or not. "NOOO! NO, STOP, YOU CAN'T DO THIS! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!" Piccolo soon switched from panicked demands to childishly yelling at the top of his lungs when Goku snatched his turban off his head.

What else was he to do? His personal space and comfort zone had been pushed way beyond bounds. He felt cornered and weak, like he wanted to hide, like hiding was the only option. He'd never run from anything in his life. And with Goku on his back, he wouldn't be breaking that valiant record today either, so at least there's a silver lining in this dark, dark cloud.

Goku clamped a hand over Piccolo's mouth and settled his other on Piccolo's head. The Namekian fell rigid, his charcoal dots shrunk–Goku was reading his mind. He would see everything–eve-ry-thing! Piccolo's racing heart got the best of him. He broke out in a cold sweat, and his head lolled in Goku's grasp. "Oh, so you two do like each other!" the giggling Saiyan commented. "And a lot, at that... A whole lot... Whoa, wait a minute, what's this?... No way... NO WAY... What-... You two-... You didn't... OH MY-YOU DID! HA-HA-HA-HA!"

He released Piccolo, whose head fell to the ground with a light smack, and rolled off of him, laughing his ass off. Goku held his stomach and kicked his legs, rolling in place from side to side. He just couldn't keep still. It was like his stomach was being tickled by a thousand little people. "Ka-Ka-Kami, did-HA-HA-did-did you know about this?!"

Kami glanced nervously at Piccolo, whom silently returned a lethargic stare. Well, he's still out of it. It should be safe to answer. "Well, Piccolo and I are one. I reside in his subconscious. So, yes...I know...about...it all..." he finished awkwardly and cleared his throat upon noticing a reenergized anger lighting up Piccolo's stare. "I, uh, ahem... Perhaps I'll go say hello to King Kai and leave you two to chat privately. I'll return when it's time to depart." And with that, Kami excused himself, and leapt over the railing.

Piccolo pushed himself up to his knees, sat back on his ankles, rested his hands on his thighs, and drew a long, deep breath. "I swear, Goku, if you weren't already dead, I'd kill you."

Goku sat up and draped his arms over his knees. He exhaled, and Piccolo noted the Saiyan's smile was more warm than amused. "How?" Goku asked.

Piccolo scoffed at him. "How would I kill you?"

Goku shook his head. "No. You and Bulma, how?"

Oh. That how. Piccolo flustered at the blunt inquiry, and looked away. To Goku, it might seem like he was trying to dodge the question, or like he was flat outright ignoring him, but truth be told, he wasn't. He was contemplating it–had been for a while. Ever since Bulma peaked his interest, he'd been asking himself the exact same question. And honestly...

"I don't know... Really, I don't... What we have...it scares me, actually... It truly does... When I'm not with her, all I can think about is her. I wonder what she's doing, what she's thinking about, if she's thinking about me... I miss her... Sometimes, I miss her so much, it hurts. I often wonder if she misses me like that... When I am with her, she's still all I can think about... She makes my heart race. Not even the most intense spar can get me worked up like she can. Just a look, just a touch, just a whisper, that's all it takes... I worry about her... Just like Gohan, I worry about her, but more so. When she's in danger, I get scared–scared of something happening to her, scared of losing her and me not being able to stop it... When she's hurt, when she cries, I get so angry. It makes me feel helpless... It makes me think back to when Raditz kidnapped Gohan. Granted, at the time, I didn't care, but now, when I worry about her, I'm almost certain I know how you must've felt–scared; never-ending twinges of fear... I now understand why Raditz used him against you, even if it didn't turn out as he'd planned... There was nothing you wouldn't do to protect him... I used to take that for weakness. But now that I feel that way for Bulma, I'm...confused...and questioning everything."

It felt good to finally say it aloud, and even though it had been forced, it felt good talking to Goku about it. He glanced at the quiet Saiyan, and found him staring back with a slack-jawed expression and wide, blinking eyes. "Wo-o-o-o-ow... That is heavy, Piccolo. And here I thought you weren't into romance." Goku was smiling now, and Piccolo felt at ease again.

"I wasn't... I didn't understand it. And truthfully, I still don't... I'm learning. She's teaching me. And strangely, some of it comes naturally to me." Piccolo rarely (if ever) spoke to anyone about the goings-on of his mind, but should he need to confide in someone in the future, Goku would always be first on his list.

"So... What, are you two, like, a couple now?"

A light blush touched Piccolo's cheeks, and a small smile tugged the corners of his mouth. "I...think so... Yes."

Goku chuckled lightheartedly. "Yeah, uh... Ahem, I-I don't want to throw a monkey wrench in the mix or anything, but...where does Vegeta fit into all this?"

Piccolo's features soured at the mention of the Saiyan prince, and Goku mentally chimed a quick, Oh boy. He half expected the Namekian to lose it, but to his surprise, Piccolo calmly asked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he started with a sharp inhalation, "I know Bulma thinks she's done with him-"

"Thinks she's done with him? What is that supposed to mean?"

Goku cleared his throat and took a deep breath. He was going to need it. "Look, I know I grew up thinking I was human, and I'm not saying what Vegeta did is okay, but I know how he thinks and why he lives the way he does. This is a guess, but I'm pretty sure the only reason he let Bulma believe they were exclusive is because he wanted her as his mate, and knew she wouldn't stand for his way of life because she's not submissive and too strong-willed. Now, I'm positive he thinks of her as his mate, because Trunks wouldn't exist if he didn't. I know everyone's always thought he was the result of a bizarre fling, but believe me, Vegeta would've taken the utmost caution if he didn't intend to claim Bulma as his; and that is exactly the problem. In Vegeta's mind, she belongs to him, and no matter how he's wronged her, he's not going to let her leave him."

Piccolo's inscrutable gaze worried Goku. For a few moments, only the occasional wind gust made a sound. Goku's tail twitched nervously as he tried to read the Namekian's unreadable profile. At some point, the wind stopped, and it became deafeningly silent. "Piccolo?" he tried in an effort to break the uncomfortable atmosphere. It worked, to a degree. Piccolo slowly rose to his feet and Goku promptly followed suit.

"...You're saying he might hurt her, aren't you?"

Goku's gaze dropped. He sighed heavily, and cracked his knuckles as a means to give himself strength to say what he couldn't believe he was about to say. "He might... He honestly might. I just-I don't know. All I know for sure is if Bulma tries to kick him out of her life, he's not going to take it lying down, you know, he's not gonna go, "Okay, fine," and then fly off. There's no telling what he'll do; but however he reacts, I just see it going bad–real bad. Especially if he finds out about you two. If he finds out, or so much as suspects something, I don't know what he'll do to Bulma, but I can one hundred percent guarantee he'll try his damndest to kill you."

Piccolo huffed at that last part, and turned away from Goku. He scooped up his turban, dusted it off, and held it in his hands, his head bowed as he carefully pondered everything the Saiyan had just told him.

Goku watched him intently. He gave Piccolo a couple of minutes alone with his thoughts before voicing another concern of his. "Do you think you're good for her?"

Piccolo's head whipped in his direction. "What?"

Goku laced his hands behind his back, and approached the glowering Namekian. "Don't get me wrong, Piccolo. It's just, when Future Trunks spilled the beans about Vegeta and Bulma, I knew he wasn't a good fit for her. And if I can be honest...I'm not so sure you're a good fit for her, either."

To Goku's surprise, Piccolo's glower melded into a crestfallen gaze. The intense stare was truly alien for the alien, and uncomfortable for the Saiyan. "Piccolo, I-I..." Goku sighed, and tried to think of the right words to say. "Look, I'm not saying I think you're not good enough for Bulma, okay, what I mean is-is...well...your entire life has never included anyone else, not even after you changed. You've always been a loner, and training and fighting and meditating is pretty much your life. I mean, do you know how to enjoy someone's company and have fun?"

Piccolo frowned at Goku. "Have fun?" He repeated it like he had no clue what it meant.

"Yes, have fun. Do you know how to have fun?"

Piccolo blinked at Goku repeatedly. "No." he answered honestly. "I don't."

"Yeah, well, you'd better learn, buddy. A life with Bulma literally translates to a whole new world for you. Not to mention, you haven't exactly tackled normal relationships head-on yet, and romance, well, even the majority of earthlings can't get that one quite right, so... Uh, look, I'm not trying to psyche you out. In fact, I hope it works out for you two. You're a good person, Piccolo, and Bulma deserves someone like you. You both offer each other something that your lives otherwise lack. I'm just bringing some key points to your attention that should be taken into consideration; key points being: if you're gonna go for it, then you have my full support, but you have to be extremely careful and mindful of how you handle it. Just remember, Vegeta's unpredictable, vindictive, cruel nature may be buried, but it's still there; and if you and Bulma aren't tactful, it will resurface."

Piccolo quirked a brow at Goku, then cracked his neck. "Sounds like you don't think I can take Vegeta... Side note: you know what tactful means?"

Goku's eyes hooded, and the Saiyan chuckled lightheartedly. "Hey, I may not be the brightest bulb–a bit dim, admittedly–but I'm not all looks and brawn." Piccolo rolled his eyes at that, earning a silly grin from Goku. "And it sounds like I'm playing peacekeeper. I don't want you two to go head-to-head. You wanna know why? Because you can take Vegeta... But...Vegeta might take you with him, too." Piccolo frowned, but the frown gradually morphed into clear comprehension.

"I see a fight to the death, Piccolo...and I see two endings... You already possess the ability to push yourself beyond your limits... Now, factor in Bulma... She'll be at the forefront of your mind the entire fight–how you're fighting to protect her, to protect your future together... She can push you to heights that Vegeta will never be able to reach... That's why I see you killing Vegeta in both endings. You would have to, you know. If you didn't, he'd recover, become stronger, and then kill you for sure. But in ending two, right before you finish Vegeta off, I see him sneaking in a parting shot, and it's lethal... You know how vindictive Vegeta is. If he sees he's losing, and if he sees a chance to take you to Other World with him, he'll do it to ensure you and Bulma can't be together... Now, if that's not something to think about, try this: let's say this happens, you do kill Vegeta, hell, let's even say you die with him... We couldn't wish him back. If we did, he'd stop at nothing to make you and Bulma pay for crossing him...and, granted Vegeta's not the world's greatest dad, that would mean Trunks loses his father, and the Z Fighters lose a great warrior."

Piccolo's jaw clenched tightly. He zoned out from Goku and allowed his eyelids to fall shut.

Light appeared. He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the harsh glare of the sunlight, and took a look around. He was in the middle of a city he didn't immediately recognize.

The streets were in shambles. Cars were overturned and totaled. Clouds of smoke billowed from demolished buildings. He could hear the indistinct screams and cries of panicked civilians running away from the melee. What had been the melee?

A pained gurgle made the Namekian's skin prickle. Vegeta... It was Vegeta... He was lying amongst the destroyed rubble of the street, close to Piccolo.

The Saiyan prince looked like he'd been through a warzone. His blue suit and white armor were shredded to tatters. Blood leaked from the rips in his suit, but square in the center of the abdominal region of Vegeta's armor, a round, bloody wound made the Namekian's eyes bulge.

He peered through the wound and saw the concrete rubble beneath the Saiyan. It was a clean hole. The organs and bones that had been there were obliterated. It was hard to look at–painful. So very painful. Extremely.

Piccolo stumbled backwards, suddenly overcome with unbearable pain. He gasped for air, but it hurt to breathe. Where is this pain coming from?

He looked down at himself, and all that remained of his clothing were his pants and shoes–and rushing down his bruised upper body and pants was blood–his blood. Where was it coming from? He could feel his life force ebbing away with his rapidly draining purple essence.

The tremendous loss of blood was proving to be the death of him. He was losing consciousness. Death's icy claws scraped his skin, and he trembled violently. Faint cries reached his ears. He tried to focus on them. Something about the cries warded off the icy talons clawing at him.

His legs gave out, and he fell–but instead of falling to the ground, he fell into the warmest embrace. He flinched–something wet was dripping on his face. He tried to find some focus in his blurry vision, but all he could see was a foggy figure hovering over him.

His ears were failing him–now his eyes. How about his nose? It hurt like hell, but Piccolo inhaled deeply. "...Strawberries..." the dying Namekian whispered raggedly. The painful intake of that strawberry scent did wonders for Piccolo. Every sweet whiff of it after hurt less and less.

His vision cleared, and his ears stopped ringing, but that lovely smell had already revealed why the warm embrace he'd fallen into felt so secure, like no matter how grievous his wound was, he wasn't going anywhere.

Bulma–he could spend an eternity staring into her beautiful cerulean ovals. Though sad tears pelted his face, and he lay dying in her arms, Piccolo still felt like the luckiest guy in the world. "Hang on, Piccolo, please! You'll be okay, you have to! Piccolo, please, you can't leave me, PLEASE! Piccolo...PICCOLO!"

Piccolo smiled affectionately and shushed her. He reached his hand up, and Bulma pressed her teary face into his palm. He told her, "It's okay, it's okay... Shh, shh, don't cry, it's okay..."

She cried silently as they gazed at one another, cherishing the other. Her face would be the last thing he would see, and Piccolo couldn't be happier.

It was almost time to go. He could feel himself slipping away.

Then, as he knocked and waited patiently at death's door, he heard the obscure crumble of approaching footsteps. Someone peeked over him and Bulma. Wait...

...Goku...?

"Umm... Piccolo...? This is getting kind of weird..."

What... The... Hell...?

"Piccolo...? Piccolo...? Yoo-hoo, Piccolo!" The high pitch call snapped Piccolo back to reality, and the Namekian's eyes bugged.

He was...caressing Goku's face... The Saiyan was staring at him awkwardly, and his left hand gripped Piccolo's wrist, like he'd been trying to pull the Namekian's hand away. How long had he been caressing Goku's face?!

Piccolo snatched his hand away, took a step back, and stammered out an embarrassed apology. "Uh... Sorry... I was-I was, uh...s-sorry, ahem." Piccolo patted invisible dust from his turban and placed it on his head. Goku scratched the back of his head while Piccolo crossed his arms, and the two exchanged awkward glances and cleared their throats several times.

After a few seconds of this, it was Goku who braved the thick ice between them. "Well...it was plainly clear that you were off in your mind, and from the sounds of it (I will be kind and not go into detail), you were playing out my scenario, which is good! Maybe now you'll take my advice, have a chat with Bulma, and take a cautious approach with Vegeta, for yours and everyone else's sake...? Hmm?"

It literally burned to admit it, and Piccolo hated it so much, but he knew Goku was right. He thought he knew Vegeta well enough to come to the assumption that the almighty Saiyan would find something like this demeaning–that fighting over a woman–especially to the death–would be trivial to him–or, as the vainglorious prince of all Saiyans would say, boring and an utter waste of time.

But after hearing Goku explain the Saiyan mentality, he knew now that he was wrong. If Vegeta found out about them, he'd declare himself the devil and rain down hell on any and everything in his sight.

Without question, the Saiyan prince is a formidable opponent, but that didn't scare Piccolo. He wouldn't let the egotistical menace stand between him and Bulma. But he also couldn't endanger innocent people, and Bulma would be first in line.

And though he's never thought highly of Vegeta, and thinks even less of him now, he didn't want to kill him if it could be avoided.

They didn't have a choice. It wouldn't be as simple as Bulma kicking Vegeta out and leaving him for Piccolo. They would have to tiptoe around Vegeta until Piccolo could think of a peaceful, bloodless solution.

Piccolo swallowed the angry lump in his throat and reluctantly nodded. "Alright, fine, Goku. You can stop trying to convince me–I'll heed your warning... I can definitely see the little prince starting trouble should he find out about me and Bulma... I'll talk to her, and we'll be careful. You needn't worry your pretty little head over the matter anymore."

Goku smiled and exhaled in relief. "Whoo, alright! Feels good to hear that! That's all I want–everyone to be okay. Okay, cool, so Kami's on his way, he'll get you back home. I'm gonna get back to training, and uh... It was really good seeing you again, Piccolo–very, uh, very enlightening."

Piccolo scoffed. "So glad I could entertain you."

Goku chuckled and scratched his forearm nervously. "How, uh...how-how is Goten?"

The shy inquiry softened Piccolo's demeanor. He grinned slightly. "He's well. Oddly, your wife lets him wander off freely, so he spends most of his time with Gohan, or getting into trouble with Trunks."

Goku smiled brightly. "What's he like?"

Piccolo hummed as he thought of way to describe the little demi-saiyan. "This might sound strange, especially since you two have never met, but he's a lot like you. He looks exactly like you. He hates vegetables. He's cheerful, goofy, naive, and happy-go-lucky. He's a bit mischievous, though, thanks to Trunks. He's kind of a crybaby–reminds me of how Gohan was when he was that age. He can't execute the Kamehameha correctly–in fact, he calls it Kamekameha..." Goku laughed at that. "But he's a fast learner, and a skilled little fighter. He has the potential to turn out like Gohan. You'd be proud."

"I already am." Goku warmly avowed. "How is Gohan?"

Piccolo frowned a little. "I don't see much of him these days. He's still kept on a short leash, and it's quite possibly even tighter than when you were alive. But when I do see him, it's evident he hasn't lost his colorful outlook on life."

"Of course he hasn't. You and I taught him that! Never give up, and always look on the bright side–that's our Gohan for ya."

"...Our?..." Piccolo repeated with a confused tilt of his head.

Goku gave him a pat on the arm and laughed, "Yeah, I can't take all the credit! You helped mold him into the person he is. To him, you're more than just a mentor. You're like family, like a father figure."

Piccolo thought about that for a moment, and then muttered under his breath, "Or a big, green uncle."

"What?"

"Nothing..."

Piccolo glanced over Goku, and the Saiyan turned and saw Kami approaching them. He whipped around and quickly asked Piccolo in a hushed tone, "Oh, hey, before you go, uh, tell me...how do you like it?"

"Like what?"

Goku smirked slyly. "Sex..."

Oh.

The Namekian's face burned purple, and he couldn't stop himself from grinning. "I...It-It's...amazing... Absolutely amazing."

Goku chuckled. "Yeah, I bet, ha-ha! How you Namekians can live without it, I'll never understand–especially if you get the chance to roll around with Bulma! She's pretty incredible, eh, Piccolo?"

Wolfish grins stretched across their faces in agreement, but then Piccolo's face slumped. "...What did you just say?"

"I said, she's pretty incredible, eh, Piccolo?" The Saiyan and his goofy smile waited for the Namekian to catch on.

Piccolo's face slowly began to twist. Which way it was twisting, Goku couldn't pinpoint just yet. "Goku...why would you say that?"

"Because...Chi Chi wasn't my first..."

Piccolo's eyes bulged, and his twisted face finally settled upon rage. "Go...ku..." He could barely grit the Saiyan's name out, his teeth were ground so tight. The Namekian's body shook with anger. "I...better...have heard you wrong..."

Goku was still smiling, seemingly loving Piccolo's shocked and incensed reaction. The Saiyan found it rather amusing–particularly Piccolo's twitching right eye. "Nope, you heard me right. Bulma and I used to fool around all the time. Started when she got fed up with Yamcha's wandering eye. Oh my gosh, Piccolo, it was so awesome! When I say "all the time," I mean, all the time, anywhere, nothing was off limits–ha-ha, it was awe-some! But..." Goku said with a heavy sigh, "Then it came time for me to marry Chi Chi, and Bulma told me I'd be cheating on Chi Chi if we kept sleeping together after the wedding, so, unfortunately, we had to call it quits... Last time we slept together was the entire day before my wedding."

Piccolo had fallen rigid during Goku's surprising confession. His mouth hung open as he tried to make heads or tails of Goku's gossip. That's all it was–gossip–Goku just running his mouth. He had to be lying. He just had to. No way there could be any truth to the off-the-wall admission. Piccolo peered at the Saiyan's shamelessly proud smile. He studied it, tried to feel Goku out... That's when a horrifying thought entered his mind. Goku doesn't lie...

"...You...son...of a bitch... You're telling the truth..." Piccolo said that so quietly, it was as though he was unconsciously whispering to himself.

Goku's goofy chuckle, which normally has a tranquil and vexing affect on the Namekian, struck a sore spot that radiated like wildfire. "Of course I'm telling the truth! If you don't believe me, just ask Bulma."

...Just ask Bulma...

At that, something inside Piccolo snapped. The only warning of this was the loud cracking of Piccolo's knuckles as his fingers curled tightly into fists. He held a stern gaze, then suddenly let a ferocious roar rip and lunged for Goku's throat. Enraged beyond insanity, Piccolo growled and lifted Goku eye-level as he squeezed with all his might.

Choking and straining for air, Goku clawed at Piccolo's hands and kicked his legs uselessly. It was quite amusing, actually–dangling in midair from Piccolo's death grip, it looked like the Saiyan was running in place. Goku's face was turning blue. His windpipe was being crushed. It was only when the Saiyan's eyes began to droop shut that Piccolo loosened his grip and allowed Goku to suck down a quick gulp of much-needed-air, only to then start shaking him back and forth like a ragdoll.

"I swear on your HALO, Goku, I'm going to convince Bulma to wish you back to life, and then I am going to KILL YOU, I SWEAR IT!"

Just then, a loud cracking sound, reminiscent of lightening, shook the manor.

Piccolo stopped shaking Goku and whipped his head to the left. There stood Kami, but what Piccolo eyed was the crack in the white marble flooring that had formed under the blow from the elder Namekian's staff. The crack was growing, heading straight for Piccolo, and before he knew it, the crack stretched past his feet, and the floor beneath him quaked and began to break away. What should've been a (no doubt) regally decorated room inside the mansion was instead a pitch black void with no end in sight. Piccolo's heart lurched in dread at the thought of forever falling within the vast blackness.

The tiles supporting him broke away. He yelled out, and went from strangling Goku to desperately clinging to his neck for dear life. Goku fell to his hands and knees onto what was left of the mansion's rooftop. The Saiyan was the only thing keeping Piccolo from tumbling into the unknown, and never (if ever) in his life had he so badly wanted to apologize for something like he wanted to apologize to Goku now, in hopes that Goku wouldn't drop him.

"I know it seems daunting, Piccolo, but you must relax. You might not find your body, otherwise." Kami dropped that information so nonchalantly, it earned both an enraged and frightened stare from his younger counterpart.

"KAMI-" he yelled, but abruptly fell silent. He felt Goku's hands on his wrists, and his heart jerked painfully upon realizing he no longer had a grip on the Saiyan. At some point, Goku had risen up into a kneeling position and wrenched his hands free of his neck. He was at the Saiyan's mercy, and dangled helplessly over the gaping black hole.

"No, no, no, Goku, Goku, please, don't let go! Don't let go! Please, I...I...I'm-"

"Don't apologize, it's okay, I forgive you. It's not like you could've killed me–I'm already dead!" Goku laughed heartily.

Piccolo chuckled hesitantly. "Right...o-okay. Okay, uh, pull me up–unh!" he stammered in shock, and stared at Goku in disbelief as the smiling Saiyan suddenly let him go.

"Say hi to Bulma for me!" Goku shouted, waving at him as he fell into the abyss.

Piccolo whipped through the blackness at breakneck speed, gasping and flailing wildly. He quickly became aware that he wasn't falling at all, but rather being taken by a gravitational pull–one stronger than any he had ever encountered. It was pulling him somewhere, but where?! His body, maybe? He just didn't know. Panic consumed him, he couldn't think! And watching the realm he'd just fallen from slowly disappear before his very eyes certainly did not put his mind at ease.

"AAAH! NO! KAMI! GOKU!"

The further into the abyss he tumbled, the more the sunlit hole and the silhouettes of Kami and Goku shrunk. In the midst of his panicked yells, he heard Kami shout, "You have to relax," and then in one giant gulp, the shrinking beacon was swallowed up, and he was alone, shrouded in blinding darkness.

"NOOO! KAMIIII! GOKUUUUU!"

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