The slender girl took off her jacket.  The weather's so strange 
these days, thought she.  Spring never came so quickly before...  The 
weather satellites are being taxed to their limits keeping a semblance of 
normalcy...  And no one really knows why.  She yawned, leaning on her 
companion as the two walked towards her apartment.

	"Tired?" He turned to her, rubbing his eye as he did so, his voice 
gentle.  "You haven't heard anything I've said in the last five minutes."

	"Mmm... uh-huh..." Mari wrapped her arm a little more firmly about 
his waist.  This was the reality, now, she thought fiercely, tiredly.  
Not the shadows and the nightmares...  and the pain afterwards.  She was 
just a normal college student...  and the past did not matter.

	Goten's cheeks reddened only a little, now.  I could get used to 
this, he thought.  The scent of her was vaguely pleasant, slightly 
intoxicating...  All a normal human would be able to sense would be a 
very faint perfume in her hair from whatever shampoo she used, and the 
slight smell of her sweat...  For him, hers was a much richer mixture of 
scents and colors that didn't even have names in human languages, 
distinctly her own.  He'd never appreciated his acute senses as much as 
he'd learned to in the past few days he had been spending with her.

	He cleared his throat.  "Want to go to the Foolishly Timed Dance 
Party with me?"

	"Sure." She smiled a little, twisted smile.  "But I thought you 
hated parties, particularly the ones where you're expected to dance?"

	"Well, I do...  But there are exceptions..."

	Mari chuckled.  "You aren't doing this for my benefit, are you?  
You really do hate to dance...  I could hear it in your voice when you 
were telling me about that first date of yours in high school.  Flopped."  
She stepped back and kicked him powerfully at the ankle, almost, but not 
quite tripping him.  "Ouch.  You know the one problem with you, Goten?"

	He steadied himself, frowning a little.  "Uhmm...  I'm not tall 
enough?"  He wracked his brain.  She WAS very tall - about the same 
height as him.  If she wore heels, she'd practically tower over him...  
Did that bother her?

	"It's no fun hitting you; it doesn't hurt you - it hurts me!  
Couldn't you at least try to be a little less tough?"  Her voice was 
angry behind its calm evenness.

	"HUH?"  Now that one did trip him, spilling him onto the concrete, 
hard.

	"Goten, hon..." she sighed.  "Don't change yourself.  Don't do 
things like that for me.  Don't do that for anyone.  It's no good.  That 
only leads to you lying to yourself, and to the people you're altering 
your behavior for."  She reached out a hand, and pulled him up to his 
feet, again surprising Goten a little with her strength.  But her touch 
against his jaw was gentle as she rested her head against his shoulder, 
and sighed again, softer this time.  "I don't like people lying to me, 
Goten.  Please?  You really want to go to this?"

	He looked up to the darkening sky, and ran his fingers through his 
easily tangled hair.  She was unlike anyone else he'd ever met.  "No...  
but I was sure you'd want to go."

	"Good."  They started walking again.  "Now that we've got that out 
of the way, yes, I'll go with you to the dance."

	"HUH?  But I thought you just said..."  Thoughts of an alternative 
first date not involving the agony of dancing crashed and tinkled like 
Italian glass on a cheap linoleum floor.

	"Yes, but now I KNOW that you don't want to go and that you are 
only going because of me - instead of your pretending that you want to 
go."  She smiled a toothy grin, confusing him some more.

	"W-What?"

	"Don't worry about it!  You'll like it!  Besides, I'll be there, I 
know how to dance, and I can teach you...  Will you calm down and stop 
hyperventilating?" she poked him hard in the stomach.  "Trust me, it'll 
be fine."

	"Haaa..." he sighed, remembering the last time someone had told him 
that.  

	She yawned, deeply.  "Jeez, I'm sooo tired.  Carry me.  Please?  
I'm really not in the mood for taking the subway, or for the gymnastic 
route... " She hopped up, pivoting with her grip on Goten's shoulders.

	He caught her in his arms a little unsteadily and protested, "Hey, 
I'm tired too!  And...  umm."  He blushed as he noticed the number of 
pedestrians looking at the two of them.  "Okay, but next time, you're 
carrying me, huh?"

	"Sure," she grinned.

	He walked into a narrow alleyway.

	"Where're you going?" she squirmed to get into a slightly more 
comfortable position in his arms.

	"The aerial route."  He rose about ten feet into the air, gently.  
"Ready?"
	
	She held onto him with a death-grip and pale knuckles as she 
replied, "umm...  maybe I'll just waaaaaAAAALK!"

	He hadn't waited for her to finish before he shot forth, 
accelerating rapidly as his flight path curved and twisted up, through 
and among the billboards and buildings of the city at sometimes 
astonishingly tight angles.  At times it seemed as though they were going 
to scrape against some of the buildings, but Goten had traveled this 
route before in his search for flowers for Ami.  He knew the way.  He was 
tempted to show off by covering his eyes with his hands, but didn't know 
if Mari would be able to hang on to him if he did.








........
The Nikholas F. Toledo Zu

presents


The Three-Fold God's Path


a DragonBall fanfic

by 

Nikholas 'Don Juan' F. Toledo
(Overseas Correspondent - or, Man Without A Clue, since he's still home 
for now...)


Episode 10:  A Taste of Marmalade


	"Okay, Ma'am.  I'll take her home in my car.  No sweat...  Uh-huh, 
uh-huh.  Right.  Sure she can stay at the house, afterwards...  
Waitaminit.  MY house?  OH....  How'd you manage to convince my Dad?  No 
kidding!  Gohan made a bet with him and they arm-wrestled???  Jeez...  
Easily repaired, huh?  Well, that's good.  Okay, Ma'am.  Yes, Ma'am.  
Yamcha's place, right...  YAMCHA's???  Huh.  O...  okay."

	Click. 

	Trunks muttered, "Never thought the old guy still had it in him.  
Aaak..."

	She'd squeezed into the tiny phone booth, behind him.

	"Uh, it started to rain... hard.  And I don't have an umbrella...  
sorry."

	Trunks blushed.  She was soaked to the skin, and, little girl or 
not, little 'sister' or not, her well-formed shape pressed against him 
like that was faintly disturbing to him...  He tried to twist around, 
somewhat clumsily in the cramped space, and only succeeded in getting 
more entangled with Anju.

	She smirked. "Hey, don't get incestuous on me now, after getting me 
a date with Nik...  I mean, you've got Ami, right?"

	He cleared his throat.  "I don't know what you're talking about."  
He hoped no one he knew could see them...

	"Let's just wait for the rain to stop, okay?  I like the rain..." 
she whispered as she leaned back against his chest.  "Don't get any 
ideas, I'm just tired."

	Trunks settled against the corner of the phone booth as comfortably 
as he could.  It was pouring buckets at that point, and he didn't feel 
anxious to take any more risks with his several hundred-credit clothes.  
"I guess the rain is kind of relaxing...  I used to hate rainy weather, 
because my Mom wouldn't let Goten and me out to play..."  He smiled, 
remembering.  "Of course, after enough times the two of us played INSIDE 
the house, she agreed with my Father's assessment that: a) we were hardly 
likely to get sick considering our constitution, and b) even if we caught 
pneumonia, the medical bills would be cheaper than having to constantly 
repair and rebuild the house."

	Anju looked down the street, watching the way the trees along the 
sidewalk disappeared in the heavy precipitation.  "I never used to play," 
she murmured in her machine's voice.  "... I think not, at least.  I 
don't really remember.  I remember my sister taking care of me, and my 
Dad...  I think?  He was sick.  Everything's fogged.  I remember training 
with my sister...  when she could get away from taking care of Dad.  Then 
the Facility men tracked us down...  with Scouters, I think you call 
them.  And bought us from my Dad."  She shivered a little.  "For my 
fighting potential.  I have a really hard time remembering anything from 
before the Facility...  For a long while, it was my whole world...  But I 
do remember this for certain, that I liked the rain, the sound it makes 
when it falls, the way the streets become like mirrors..."

	Trunks stiffened.  What did I do?  Is she...  Oh man, she's crying.  
Aaaarrrgh.  Now what am I supposed to do?  A little dazed, he fuzzily 
recollected Vegita's reaction to his crying spells as a child...  And 
that was probably not a good idea.  And Bulma used to be so busy 
sometimes...  Oh, yeah, I think I saw this on holovid...  And he had 
blurry memories of Bulma holding him while he wept about the latest set 
of bruises he got from Vegita.  He cringed as he clumsily brought his 
stiff, twitching arms around her.  I hope nobody's watching...

	She became oddly quiet, which made Trunks even more nervous.  He 
half-expected her to ram a chi-charged elbow against his side.  At least 
the bruises aren't even half as bad as a normal sparring match with Goten 
or Vegita, he consoled the aches in his sides.

	She snuffled a little.  "That the best you can do to comfort a 
crying little girl?"  She chuckled just a bit as she wiped her tears away 
with his sleeve.  

	"Hey, give me a break!  It's not like I've had very much 
practice..."  Trunks dropped his arms and looked to the side self-
consciously.

	Anju blew her nose with her handkerchief, quietly.  She reached 
around with her right arm and hugged him somewhat awkwardly.  "Me too.  
You're forgiven."  She sighed.  "Are all my bodyguards as nice as you?"  

	He muttered as he scratched his head and avoided her eyes, "Who, 
me?  Nice?  Don't know what you're talking about..."


	A deep voice echoed in the small, dimly lit office.  "Report, 
Spect."

	The figures were cloaked in the shadows of the windowless room, the 
faint sound of filtered air being recirculated through the vents in the 
ceiling, sucking in the smoke from the large, seated figure's cigar.

	The one on the other side of the desk coughed a little, and 
responded.

	"Despite the loss of the Facility, several important field tests 
were completed ahead of schedule.  The Necrotechnology has been 
perfected.  The only drawback to the conversion process is the long 
period of time it takes to adequately train the soldiers to be converted 
- however, even a modestly trained soldier who is converted is still 
capable of single-handedly destroying about a quarter of any modern 
conventional army today.  As covert operatives, their potential 
destructive capability makes them nearly unstoppable as assassins.  
Recommendation: convert the most important of our deep cover agents.  The 
feasibility of selling them is poor - the cost is too high, and the risks 
too great if the technology were captured by anyone else.  It is 
therefore vital that the lost N-unit be retrieved before the crime lords 
realize what can be done with her.  A team has already been launched by 
General M, without my approval.  I sincerely believe that the attempt 
will be unsuccessful, and potentially disastrous as government 
involvement must not become public.  However, I know that you have 
already read my protests regarding the operation, and know that you've 
given the go signal.  I merely wish to emphasize the danger."

	"Everything has a risk, Spect.  It is too important that we 
retrieve the girl before anyone else can decipher the Necrotechnology, or 
chaos is sure to ensue.  Were the rebels in central Euro-Asia or the 
crime lords able to gain any of the technical specifications, every 
fanatic in the world would become a ticking bomb with enough force to 
wipe out a continent.  Speed, Spect."

	"Nevertheless, sir - there has been no leak yet.  I strongly 
suggest that we postpone the mission until more data is gathered.  If we 
strike now, and fail, the crime lords will realize that something's 
up..."

	"Then General M. had better not fail, eh?"

	"As you say, sir."	

	The modulated, elderly voice paused.

	"In addition, an extremely important discovery has been made 
regarding the Program - the rogue, Arien, on the brink of death, accessed 
a form and magnitude of energy previously seen only in the Saiyajin.  
Though comatose at present, with a poor prognosis, it's possible that one 
of his associates has some data regarding the technique he used to obtain 
such power.  Such a process makes the power of our Necrotechnology look 
like so many matchsticks."

	"The readings were vague, Spect.  Is it not possible that the 
presence of the Saiyajin in the vicinity was the cause of your energy 
readings?"

	"I assure you sir, the source was the rogue."

	"I wonder whether or not your personal involvement with the rogue 
is the reason for your assessment.  You do not yet have enough data to 
make such a projection, Spect.  Do not allow your past to cloud your 
judgement.  Until you've obtained more proof regarding the rogue, who is, 
for all intents and purposes, dead, I forbid you from wasting any more 
resources in deciphering the mystical claptrap of his so-called Art."

	"Yes...  sir.  Sir, in the event of General M's failure...  I think 
we should employ the services of one of the gangsters allied with the 
Central Government."

	"Which?"

	"The Nameless."

	"Excellent suggestion.  However, it has already been considered, 
and they have already been contacted.  You still underestimate me, Spect.  
I know very well General M's chances.  We can't stop him.  He has enough 
favor and can pull enough strings so that our opposing him in this is not 
feasible.  Should he fail, as we both know he will due to his inherent 
clumsiness and lack of vision, he will be discredited enough in the 
council for us to move, at our own leisure.  Besides, he may even succeed 
- after all, he only has to kill the girl.  We can activate her 
controlling circuits at that point.  He need not even have to last for a 
second against her Saiyajin bodyguards."

	"I understand now, sir."


	"I see, Neil.  Yes, your plan sounds good.  We won't strike Mr. 
Satan directly because of his security...  We'll kidnap his daughter!  It 
will be a simple matter to capture her, and her husband's merely some 
nerd of a teacher at the University, eh?  We'll force Mr. Satan to come 
to us!   Nothing can stop me from obtaining vengeance!  Nothing!  
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

	"Your endurance is improving sir!  It's...  ADMIRABLE!"  Neil 
clapped.  "But shouldn't we be getting out of the rain?"  He wiped his 
dark glasses with his shirt, but gave up because that was wet as well.

	"Hah!  That's not rain!  It's mere drizzle!  The MASC practitioner 
scoffs at adverse weather conditions!  One's will must be stronger than 
anything nature's wrath can provide!"  He sneezed.  "Ugh...  I dink I'b 
god a cowd..."

	
	Bulma smiled as she inhaled deeply of her steaming mug of hot 
chocolate.  She took a small sip and moaned with blissful pleasure as she 
wriggled her toes underneath the thick maroon blankets.  "Why Vegita 
trains in this weather, I just don't know," she muttered.  


	"Aaaah!  Damn!  I missed!"  Vegita's fingers and eyebrows twitched 
in consternation.

	"That's a thousand credits, sir," a barrel-chested man in blue 
grinned broadly.  

	Vegita shook in impotent rage.  "NyaaaAARgh.  I won't give up, 
Takashi you peasant DOG!  Once again!  I'll double it!!!"

	"Uhmm...  that's the sixth game today, sir.  Maybe you'd better 
practice a little before our next match..."

	The stick in his hands splintered.  "By all that is sacred, I SHALL 
master this!  I Do NOT looose!" he roared.  He tossed back a drink, and 
calmly crushed the glass in his hand.  "I shall defeat you yet!!!"

	A girl whispered to her companion's ear, "The boss is taking this a 
little too personally...  Vald, do you think maybe..."

	He whispered back soothingly, "Emu, just relax.  He's always like 
this in anything remotely competitive.  It's part of the reason why his 
business empire's doing so great.  'Sides, he's not really mad.  I've 
seen the boss mad," he shuddered, "it took a week to renovate the offices 
afterwards.  This is how the boss blows off steam.  That's Takashi.  He's 
been with the boss ever since he started rising in the financial world.  
As I understand it, if there was anyone at all who might remotely be 
considered Vegita's friend, it's that man.  It has to do with how Vegita 
started out, at the dock-" a billiard ball bounced off of the man's head, 
knocking him flat onto his back.  He was out cold.  

	Vegita's eyes were still intent on the table as he spoke, "Emu, 
take Mr. Lopez here to the clinic.  When he wakes up, remind him not to 
talk so much.  Deduct 5% from his salary.  Take the rest of the day off, 
and warn everyone not to disturb me and Takashi, on pain of death."

	Takashi bent over to whisper into the shorter man's ear.

	Vegita grumbled, "Very well.  Anyone who disturbs us gets fired.  
What kind of a place is this world, can't even kill bad servants..."

	"Y...  yes, sir."  Emu stepped out, dragging her unconscious friend 
with the mole near his mouth.

	"Alright, you disrespectful peasant, if you're such a master of 
this, teach me!" she heard her short-tempered boss sputter as she closed 
the door.

	"Veggie, ol' pal, I've just got to teach you how to lighten up one 
of these days..."

	"I TOLD you not to call me that!"
               

	"It appears that Ms. Sterling is not going to come today, class."

	The group gave a hearty, collective groan.

	"Hey, don't be that way!  I'm not that bad, am I?" he stared at 
them with wide, innocent eyes.

	They groaned again, louder this time.

	"Fine.  For a change of pace, we'll do something different, today," 
Gohan sighed.  "Everyone sit down or stand, whatever pose you feel most 
comfortable in."

	They complied, most of them choosing to sit down, cross-legged, 
although there were a couple of people who, on a whim, stood on their 
heads.  

	"Good.  This is going to be an exercise in feeling the chi all 
around you.  Actually, right now, among you only Nik knows what I'm 
talking about for sure."  Gohan sat down, cross-legged.  "It may help 
some of you to close your eyes.  Those who wish to do so should go ahead 
now.  For those of you who've seen old tapes of the Tenkaichi Budokai, 
this may explain some of the questions you have about the strange or 
seemingly impossible techniques employed in a few of those tournaments."

	One of the goofier students started to snore.  

	He spoke slowly, liltingly.  "Let's begin with breathing.  You're a 
champion martial arts club, so you all know the drill.  Breathe deeply, 
rhythmically, from down just beneath your belly button; from where all 
the mythical (to most of you) chi is supposed to dwell:  hara.  That's a 
fallacy, by the way.  Chi does not dwell anywhere in your body - chi is 
the force of spirit - it does not dwell next to your guts.  Now, 
concentrate on the beats of your heart, centering yourself.  Hear each 
single heart beat...  Breathe slower, deeper...  Feel your heart slowing.  
To find your chi, look in that space between your heart beats, look long, 
slow your pulse...  Right now, I bet most of you are thinking, 'yeah, so 
what?  There's no mystical power in this...  and what the Hell does this 
have to do with kendo?'"  Gohan chuckled a little, breaking the 
concentration of a few of the students.    

	"For most of you, the chi is too distant to feel, except in the 
deepest trances, in the space just as you wake up from a dream.  To feel 
it, you must disconnect yourselves from your senses, one by one, so that 
the physical stimuli don't interfere with your sensing the chi.  You 
control your body - you can get the nerves to stop registering certain 
impulses with enough practice.  Focus on my voice - focus until you no 
longer hear the traffic outside, the leaves rustling in the wind, the 
rain falling on the roof, until you hear only my voice, and your own 
hearts' beating," his voice became monotonous, hypnotic, barely a 
whisper.  

	Many of the students' brows were clenched in concentration, as they 
tried with all their skill to feel whatever it was that their substitute 
teacher was talking about.  The main motivation was that they figured 
that if Gohan decided that they just weren't trying hard enough, he'd 
make them do the physical drills...  Which were pure agony.  He made them 
attempt the most difficult physical feats, from balancing on one finger 
with heavy weights attached to their ankles, to running on only one's 
hands while another person stood on your feet, to sparring (usually with 
Gohan) without breathing - the worst prospect of all.  So, to spare 
themselves from a great many bruises, they tried, again and again, to 
shut out what Gohan told them to.  

	"Stretch out the moment between each heart beat, for as long as you 
can...  You must be able to hone your perceptions, use your imaginations 
to manipulate what you think is happening around you...  At the moment 
when you can stretch out the lull between your heartbeats infinitely, 
when time seems to slow to a crawl and you can no longer even hear my 
voice, feel the pulsing of your heart or the mats you are sitting on...  
when it is as though you are in oblivion...  that is where the chi is...  
Feel the life force...  everything around you...  ba-mahk..."

	He peeled open an eye, and noticed that over half of the class was 
asleep.  He coughed a little harshly.  "Of course, that could just mean 
that you've hypnotized yourselves into sleeping."  He clapped, sudden 
thunder in the quiet of the dojo, stunning the sleeping ones to 
wakefulness, and disrupting the meditative trances of the others.  A few 
of them giggled.

	"Nik, come up to the front.  I need to demonstrate the power of chi 
to the skeptics."

	The lean student walked forward confidently.  

	"Stand on one finger."

	He grimaced, then proceeded to do so on his right index finger, 
intense effort causing sweat to pour down his body in rivulets.  

	"The balance Nik is demonstrating here is made easier with chi - if 
your will is strong enough, the weight pressing down on the strained 
joints of your finger, hand and wrist is nothing."  

	Gohan leaned down and whispered into Nik's ear.  "I want you to 
take the weight off of your finger...  I know you can do this, Andrea was 
quite proud of the fact that you can actually feel the chi...  Don't 
think about the difficulty, don't think about the pain, don't think about 
how heavy you are... just LIFT...  Store the energy into your finger, and 
PUSH."

	Nik trembled, gasping.  His finger started to buckle underneath his 
fist, and a few members of the class closed their eyes in anticipation of 
his crashing down to the mat.  

	At the moment when falling seemed inevitable, and certain, he 
focussed, and screamed, withdrawing the finger into his fist, and 
releasing.

	Jaws dropped, and the only sound was Nik's labored breathing as he 
floated, two inches of nothingness between his knuckles and the ground.  
It was more tiring than he could believe - it was as though he weighed 
ten times as much as he normally did.  He held it for all of three 
seconds, gasped, and fell hard onto his back.

	Gohan smiled as he murmured, "Excellent.  Actually, I didn't think 
you'd be able to hold it for more than a second.  That's good.  You're on 
your way to becoming a true student of the Art...  Less than a couple of 
hundred fighters in all the world are capable of saying the same.  Soon, 
you might actually reach the same class of fighting that Yuu has 
reached."
	
	Nik opened his eyes and shot back, "That's crazy!  Yuu's not that 
good, I beat him just a few hours ago!  He's strong, but he's 
demonstrated none of this stuff!"  He groaned, barely enough strength 
left to sit up.

	"He was holding back to be sporting.  He knows you've only just 
begun to tap into the chi."  Gohan increased the volume of his voice, 
addressing the class, "It was only for three seconds, but you all saw 
that - a physical demonstration of the spirit force.  For the rest of the 
session, the rest of you will continue to try to sense the chi.  Most of 
you will probably never be able to get beyond grasping a few threads just 
out of reach - but even that is something to be proud of, and when your 
Queen of Swords comes in for next week's practice, I can tell you that 
she would be very, very pleased if even just one more of you could 
duplicate Nik's feat today."

	He noticed their lack of interest again upon calming down.  

	"And...  for those of you have seen those old kung fu movies, if 
you learn this stuff, you can do anything they can do in those movies."

	Most of the group excitedly sat and concentrated on the meditation.

	"Nik, you just came a pretty big step forward today.  Go home, and 
rest up," he smiled.  "The day after tomorrow, you should be extremely 
careful in your fight with Yuu.  He's going to feel the step-up in your 
fighting ability...  and might decide that you're worth some serious 
attention.  Don't expect to win, if he does."
	
	Nik dragged himself up to his feet, moaning in complete exhaustion.  
He felt as though he'd done a thousand push-ups and run a marathon on his 
hands afterwards for kicks.  His muscles felt as though they were on 
fire.  


	At the steps of the entrance to one of the better dorms close to 
the campus, a girl with short, blue hair sighed as she started leafing 
lazily through one of her pocketbooks.  Upon close examination of the 
spine, as well as the edges of the pages, one could conclude that she'd 
read this book many times before, but took special care as she read each 
time, turning the pages carefully, keeping the creases to a minimum.  
Where was he?  It was starting to get dark...  Did he forget somehow?  
After all that angst?  After practically throwing himself at her feet?  
Was that all?  

	She knew she was being unreasonable - he might have a perfectly 
good reason...  Still...  She shivered a little as drizzle spattered 
against her skin, dark spots on her white shirt and jeans. 

	Her roommate sat beside her, and spoke just barely loud enough to 
be heard over the sound of the rain.  "Hey...  Sure you don't want to go 
back inside?  Maybe there was something important that came up...  You've 
been waiting here for quite a long time now..."

	Ami shook her head.  "No... I... I'll wait just a little longer...  
If he's still not here by then...  I guess...  I'll just walk around for 
a while."
	
	"It's getting heavier," her roommate squeezed her shoulder lightly.  
"Hey, I'll be waiting upstairs, okay?  If you do go out for a walk... 
just be careful. I feel like taking a walk to clear my head and think 
sometimes too."  She entered the residence hall, shaking her head.

	She nodded, grateful for her friend's delicacy in not asking the 
questions that she must have been dying to know the answers to.  Right 
now...  She really didn't feel like talking much.  

	She glanced at her watch for what must have been the twentieth 
time...  And made a decision.  After all, nothing was yet final, right?  
She put her copy of 'A Bridge Across Forever' back into her shoulder bag.  
Yes, I think a walk would do me some good...

	
	Time passed quickly for Trunks, just watching the crystal drops 
fall in near silence.  He leaned slightly, glancing at Anju's face.  

	"Much cuter, asleep..."    

	It was then that Trunks saw a blurred, dark shape moving incredibly 
fast.  There was no time - he screamed, flooded himself with Power as 
quickly as he dared to, and as he surrounded himself and the slender 
female in his arms within a hastily erected shell of force, the 
plexiglass panels of the phone booth shattered from the initial wave of 
pressure.

	It was just barely enough.  The crater around them was only a meter 
across, but just beneath their feet it was so hot that the ground was 
fused to a mirror smoothness - somehow, the blast energy was all directed 
inwards, wasting very little force and doing a minimal amount of property 
damage.  If he'd been slightly slower, he knew that, while he would only 
have experienced superficial injuries, Anju would have been killed for 
certain.

	Even as the flash of light from the missile began to dissipate, 
Anju focussed as well, her muscles swelling with chi.  She tore through 
the air, the moisture in the air flash-vaporizing due to the friction 
with her own shield of spirit.  

	Trunks turned, felt a rapid succession of the dark smears in the 
sky launching from a high-rise about a kilometer away.  Ears still 
ringing from the incredible noises, from the explosion first and then 
from Anju's high-speed movement, he sneered, a packet of destruction 
growing in his raised left hand.  You DARE attack me, he thought.  Rage 
ripped through his thoughts.  Steam rose from the crater he floated over, 
and a sizzling sound was in the air as the rain fell on his super-charged 
body.  "Haa AAA!"  

	Anju turned back to him, eyes widening.

	The power streamed forth...  and Anju screamed, throwing herself in 
its path, just barely deflecting the sphere into the sky, a flash of 
light high above indicating its detonation.  A little stunned, he could 
only watch as she turned to the missiles, widened her stance, and 
shrieked, palms forward, a powerful wind manipulated by her delicate hold 
on the chi strands of the surroundings slamming into the missiles, 
throwing them off-course to explode midway.  "You IDIOT!  There are 
civilians in that building!"  She slapped him, rocking him back with a 
powerful backhand.

	She pulled him down to the ground, and dimmed herself, the faint 
cobalt glow about her fading.  "Let's get out of here...  The element of 
surprise is over - they'll run now, disappearing amongst the civilians.  
They'll have been briefed about you...  They know a battle is out of the 
question.  Power down NOW.  Be thankful the rain kept most of the 
pedestrians inside..."  

	Only then did Trunks notice the sobbing cries of the people huddled 
down in the shops and fast-food restaurants around them, hiding from the 
shards of glass that had flown about during the battle.

	They ran, almost painstakingly slow, for Trunks.  They ran with 
just their feet, no more power running through their blood, nothing 
visible to mark the immensity of spirit inside them.

	His Italian shoes splashing through the puddles, Trunks' heart 
slowed down to normal, still stung by her blow.  "Anju..." he spoke 
unsteadily, anger in his throat that still hadn't spent itself.

	"We'll talk later," she glared at him fiercely.  

	Then he remembered the nightmares...  and the anger disappeared 
into fear.  My God!  I almost lost it there!  She's right!  What's 
happening to me?


	"That was great!" She was grinning, wild-eyed, a tremor still in 
her fingers from the adrenaline.

	The two college students steadily dropped down to the door of the 
small apartment building, just dark outlines behind the heavy curtains of 
rain.  She jumped down from his arms, a little shaky in the knees from 
the experience.  

	"Cold?"  Goten inquired, hesitantly embracing her again, and 
glowing a faint gold as he did so, gently warming the two of them.

	"Mmm..." she sighed contentedly.  "No...  But this is really 
nice...  thanks for the concern.  Mmmm...  You're better than any 
electric blanket..."  

	He cleared his throat.  "I suppose you should be heading in now..."

	"I suppose."  She regretfully pulled away from him to bring out her 
keys.  

	"Hey."

	"Hnnh?" she turned her head back to him.

	He blushed as he leaned closer.  She could feel his breath on her 
cheek, and felt giddy, and not a little afraid.  "Goten-kun..." she 
whispered, softly.  She closed her eyes...  Their breath mingled, white 
tendrils in the cold air.

	And Goten swore as a loud, insistent beeping screamed from his 
pocket.  Somewhat helplessly, he looked from her to the beeper, and back 
again.  After finally getting the courage together... he sighed.

	Mari laughed a little breathlessly, and pushed him off her front 
steps.  "Go...  I understand.  Lots of time for..." she smiled,  
"...THAT...  later.  Duty calls, Great Saiyaman III."  Her eyes sparkled 
mischievously.  "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

	Goten sputtered a little, trying to think of something appropriate 
to say as he levitated just enough to keep from hitting the ground.  
"Unh...  O-okay."  He waved, face flaming a little as he took off into 
the gray evening sky.  

	His heart was still pounding.


----- End Episode 10

Nikholas F. Toledo Zu @ http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/3145/mezza9.html
Vector, Switch, Yebah, Don Juan, goo, Pervert, Scruples, Hollie, NomaD,
Blitz, Gee, Datzo
Fanfiction @ http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/3145/fanfics.html
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