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Gohan ricocheted through the broad-shouldered crowd of competitors to the back of the staging area. He could barely make the top of Piccolo's turban beyond the sea of animated faces.
It's not that he was in such a hurry as he was simply incapable of moving slow, his excitement was so great. After all, it was the first World Tournament he was competing in. Sure, he'd been blackmailed by Videl to come, but as a result his father had returned for the day after seven years in the afterlife to compete as well, and from that all their friends were reuniting for the endeavor. If he could just be patient enough to endure the tedious preliminary testing…
"Hey Piccolo!" He waved and ran over to the withdrawn Namek leaning against a tree with his arms folded heavily across his chest.
Piccolo lifted his head and opened his eyes only enough to make eye contact and then immediately dropped his chin again and shut his lids as if doing so would make the crowds go away.
"They're drawing numbers soon," Gohan said. "…and if we finish this strength sensor thing early enough, then we can go and watch Goten and Trunks fight."
"Mmm." Piccolo gave a small nod.
"Great. I'll go ahead and save a place in line… Gohan realized suddenly that something was bothering the Namek. The signs were subtle. An extra crease in his brow, a slight stiffness to his stance, a quick contraction in his jaw muscles… No one else would have noticed, but Piccolo had been a paternal mentor to Gohan longer than his own father. They knew each other well, and thus Gohan could tell that something bigger than the crowds was getting under Piccolo's skin.
"What is it?" Gohan asked quietly, alarmed. He felt his palms tingle in anticipation of some hidden evil afoot. "Do you sense something?"
Piccolo peeked at him through the corner of his eye. He spoke through his teeth. "That woman over there has been staring at me since we arrived," he growled.
"Huh?" It took Gohan a few seconds to understand the simplicity of what he said. "A woman?"
"Shhh!" Piccolo faced him. "Behind me."
Gohan trusted Piccolo's instincts and glanced behind his mentor, searching for an evil face among the innocents. Several people were staring at the Namek. They always did. "You know Piccolo, a lot of people are staring at you. It's-" And then he saw her. "Ooohhh."
A tall, attractive woman with obsidian-black hair stood a few yards off. A hint of mischief curled the corners of her mouth and she was indeed staring. And it wasn't the way people usually looked at Piccolo, either. Her large, heavily lashed eyes were hungrily fixed on the Namek as if he were a roasted mutton in a starving world. Gohan felt himself blush even though her blatant attention wasn't directed at him--his earlier anxiety giving way to a newfound amusement. He tried to stifle a chuckle. Piccolo's eyes snapped open, accusatorily.
"Well uh, Piccolo," Gohan cleared his throat and couldn't stop the grin from broadening his face as he contemplated just how much the Namek would have preferred facing a cocktail of both Frieza AND Cell over this. "It seems as though you have a female admirer."

Chapter 2

Piccolo had gone to the front with Gohan and couldn't help skirting around the crowd to put as much distance as possible between himself and the woman. Her attention was the most awkward thing he'd ever experienced. If she only knew she was wasting her time… The tournament is supposed to be a competition for serious fighters, not a meat market for carousing singles, he thought angrily. At least she won't be allowed into the sidelines with the final competitors. The idea relaxed him somewhat…
Fortunately she hadn't followed him, and after one broken hit sensor, and an armful of restraint for all the Z fighters, they had scored high enough to place them in the competition. The shock of seeing Goten and Trunks turn Super Saiyan in the youth trials made him forget completely about the gawking female, until they announced the line-up for the eight competitors in his category.
"And here we are! Will the following please come to the sidelines." The straw-haired announcer fumbled with the paper in his hands. "Goku."
Goku hopped up. "Well," he said as he gave a cheery wave to his friends, "See you in there!" The announcer continued on.
"Gohan, Number Eighteen, Vegeta, Krillin, Piccolo…"
Piccolo walked routinely across the fighting arena to the side room they had reserved for the fighters and leaned against the wall. He was only mildly curious to see what remaining weak earthlings had filled the last two spots.
"The Mighty Mask,"
A short-limbed fellow with a pointed mask ran across and stood far off from the rest of them.
"Aaaand…Gaszha."
A brief shuffling of the crowd and the last competitor stepped onto the arena. Piccolo felt his stomach drop out.
Gohan nudged him. "Hey Piccolo. Isn't that the-"
Piccolo snarled the affirmative. The woman that had been staring at him all morning danced giddily across the arena to the sideline. "Great," he muttered under his breath.
Gohan grabbed his shoulder and counseled in hushed tones, "Relax. The worst she'll do is come on to you, which you'll obviously counter with rejection, and that's that. Easy, really. It's actually quite amazing that you've avoided this kind of incident up until now, being a hero and all… Besides, if she beat out all the other fighters that showed up, then she must be pretty strong…"
"She probably cheated," he grumbled as he observed her ridiculous, girly manner; giggling, clapping her hands, skipping… "Flirted with the judges or rigged the machine…"
Gohan laughed. "Well, it could have been worse, Piccolo. At least she's pretty."
Piccolo snorted. "Makes no difference to me. I don't function like you gender-based species do."
They matched up the fighters, and Piccolo was relieved that this Gaszha was fighting Vegeta first. The Saiyan Prince would waste no time at all kicking her out of the ring. Unfortunately, however, they were fourth in line, which gave her plenty of time to approach him. Time that she took advantage of all too soon.
He felt a nudge on his elbow, despite his bowed head and closed eyes and all the other signals he was using to say, 'Don't bother me'. Her scent filled his nostrils-a cross between pine needles and soap. He opened his eyes reluctantly and frowned down at her. Her heart-shaped face was smiling up at him as if she could read his every thought.
"Hi," she said in a quiet, but aggravatingly upbeat voice. Piccolo looked away, but unfortunately, it didn't deter the woman.
"You've been ignoring me all morning," she said delightedly. "No one's ever done that to me before."
Again, Piccolo said nothing, but he believed what she said. Though he himself didn't feel the pulls and tugs of attraction, he could pinpoint which individuals seemed more comely than others. And this particular female seemed to have all the proportions right.
"So which one are you, anyway? Goku? Number Eighteen?"
Piccolo was still hesitating to speak at all, considering that any response would encourage her further.
"Come now. If you don't tell me who you are, I'll give you a nickname." She waited. "No? Well, let's see," she ticked her fingers in the air as if going down a mental checklist. "Beanstalk, Martian Boy, Eli the Grump-"
"PICCOLO!" He barked. "The name is Piccolo." He hated being called anything but his own name. "And your attention is wasted on me."
"Oh really?" she crinkled her eyes, more intrigued than intimidated. "So, where are you from?"
"Earth."
"Oh?" Her eyes grew in jest at his harsh ambiguity. "What a coincidence! Me too!"
He looked over to Gohan and Krillin who were watching with ear-splitting grins on their faces. He narrowed his eyes in a silent threat that promised a later flogging if they didn't come to his aid immediately. Slightly subdued, but still highly amused, they walked over.
"Hi. Gaszha, right?" Gohan, asked, with a residual twinkle in his eye from his earlier grin. "I'm Gohan. And this is Krillin."
"Hi," Krillin said.
Piccolo felt briefly relieved to see her gaze rest on someone else, for a change.
"Hello, gentlemen." She shook their hands. "I'm trying to hit on your friend here, so if you don't mind…"
Krillin chuckled. "Look, honey. He's not your type-"
"Oh, but he is," she said, leaning closer to Piccolo in unmasked adoration. "I have this thing for demons…"
"Demons?" Krillin cringed. "Why?"
Piccolo found himself wondering the same thing.
"I'm from the Yosolk Caverns," she said nonchalantly.
Really… he thought. The demons of Yosolk were a vicious breed. What was this human girl doing in a place like that? It gave a little more depth to her shallowness, but not nearly enough. "I'm not a demon," he growled.
She quirked her eyebrow. "Oh, really?"
"Yeah," Krillin began. "Piccolo is sexless, like an amoeba."
Of all the insulting… Piccolo held his tongue. It was a repulsive comparison, but what if it worked?
Gaszha seemed to think about it, and appraised him heartily from head to toe, winking at him when she was done. "Unfortunately for you, my friend, it makes you no less sexy."
Piccolo felt his eyes widen, and his jaw slack in the face of such a weird, unmanageable compliment. Gohan laughed outright.
The woman grinned, her large dark eyes sparkling from reflected pools of light. "Looks like I finally broke your demeanor, Piccolo."
Piccolo stiffened, and faced her. "I'm here to compete," he said in a slow, staccato voice. "Not to fight off your flirtations…"
"All right," she smiled, still undaunted. "Look. Tell you what, Captain Charisma. Let's make a deal. I'll leave you alone for now, but if I beat you in the second round-I've no doubt you'll win the first---"
Krillin snorted, as he was Piccolo's first competitor.
"Then," she continued, "You have to spend one day with me."
"What?!" His gut reaction at being forced to spend a day with her was immediate, but then he realized what she said. Gohan voiced it for him.
"IF she beats you," he said, smiling as if there was no way in the world she'd ever make it past the first round. Piccolo frowned at her, completely convinced that she'd contrived her way into the final eight. Even if she were strong, her attitude was all wrong. Besides, her first competitor was a Super Saiyan…
"Fine," Piccolo snapped, anxious to be rid of her. "Though I don't know how you even got to compete."
She smiled. "Now that you mention it, I think the scoring on the strength sensor was screwed up when I hit it, but hey! It got me this far!" She blew him a kiss and was gone.
"I knew it," Piccolo grumbled when she walked away. "She got in by chance."
"Man, I swear there's something familiar about her," Krillin said, scrutinizing the woman as she watched the match.
"Yeah," Gohan agreed as he in turn squinted his eyes in her direction. "I know what you mean. But I can't place why…"
As they watched, she flipped her shoulder-length hair upside down and wrapped it tight in a bushy pony tail and flipped back up, leaving her facial profile completely visible and unhidden by her shiny black tresses.
Piccolo shrugged and walked away to watch the match, but his acute hearing picked up Krillin's next comment.
"Man," Krillin started. "Her skin tone, her hair, her face… She could be Goku's sister for all she looks like him."

Chapter 3

The woman was true to her word. She stayed away, not even looking in Piccolo's direction as the rounds passed. The Mighty Mask had ended up flying away, leaving Goku as the winner. Gohan beat out Number Eighteen, and Piccolo had just tossed Krillin out of the arena. It was now Gaszha's turn against the Saiyan Prince.
Piccolo watched Vegeta as he passed by in state of bored annoyance. He could relate to the perturbed Saiyan on many levels.
"Vegeta."
He glared up at Piccolo in acknowledgement.
"Do me a favor and make this fight quick."
Vegeta smiled maliciously. "I planned on it."
Gaszha walked nervously out on the arena. It was embarrassing, Piccolo thought, how unprofessional she looked. For all her apparent anxiousness and light-hearted manner, she could have been just some teeny-bopper out of Gohan's high school.
When Vegeta entered, he didn't even pause to brace himself for battle. Instead, he just continued walking, saying to her as he approached, "I'll make this quick and painless. Well, not completely painless," he said as he iron-gripped her biceps and lifted her off the ground. Piccolo smiled as her surprised expression shifted to frantic.
"Hey!" She protested, kicking futilely as Vegeta walked her across the arena to toss her out like last night's trash.
"Your dignity might be slightly bruised," Vegeta jeered.
Piccolo smiled. Sometimes he really appreciated the Prince's goading manner.
"You c-c-can't just-throw me out like this. You humiliating…JERK!"
Vegeta threw his head back and laughed as he approached the edge of the arena. But suddenly her panicked, discouraged face transformed. A malevolent smile curled her lips, and her eyes narrowed in wicked irreverence.
Piccolo saw it, but his voice caught in his throat. Before the change in her demeanor could register in her competitor, Gaszha bent her knees and threw herself down on her back, taking the Prince with her. It all happened so fast that before the audience could even gasp at the change of events, the woman had flipped her feet over her head and kicked Vegeta out of the ring with such force that the earth exploded up around his body, leaving him in a grave nearly six feet down.
She stood at the edge of the arena with her arms folded menacingly across her chest, her childish demeanor from earlier completely gone. She looked down at Vegeta with a glorious expression of beguilement on her face. Vegeta gawked at her in shock, until she finally shook her head and walked off the stage.
Piccolo watched the whole display nervously. She'd outwitted the Saiyan Prince, and was stronger than they'd all thought. And now he had to fight her.
Unsurprisingly, Vegeta wasn't about to let her get away without an earful. He popped up out of his hole, and, ignoring the loud reaction of the spectators, flew up beside her. "You cheated!" He screamed.
"You underestimated me, and I used it to my advantage," she said, walking on as though he were nothing more than a pestering fan.
"This is ridiculous! I want a rematch!" His face was turning red.
She rolled her eyes. "I won. You lost. Get over it."
Foolish woman, Piccolo thought. You're goading the wrong person on. It wasn't going to take much more to push Vegeta over the edge. The Saiyan was two seconds away from going ape. But Piccolo couldn't help being fascinated by her audacity.
Vegeta's rantings continued on. "I CAN'T be out of the tournament. This is unfair!"
Gaszha sighed and faced him indignantly with her hands on her hips. "Look. I had plans for the prize money, but I swear I'll sport you a few bills if you'll stop your incessant whining."
"WHINING?" Vegeta flush went from red to purple.
"Dad," Gohan said nervously as he watched them. "We'd better get over there, or Vegeta's gonna kill that girl." Goku nodded and they both trotted over.
"NOBODY talks to me like that! You'll regret that! I'm a Prince of Warriors-"
Her perturbed face sprung into mocking laughter. "My goodness! You really have bought your own bullshit," she giggled. "Come now. How much of my prize money do I have to give you to-"
"I came to fight Kakkarot!" Vegeta screamed. Piccolo winced as his voice had gone up two octaves and reached an inhuman pitch that grated on the Namek's hearing. "Do you understand? I've been training for the past seven years to fight him, and he's only here for one day-"
Sometimes Vegeta's biggest problem is not knowing when to shut up, Piccolo thought. He braced himself as Gaszha capitalized on the Saiyan's weakness.
"You sound pretty obsessed with this Kakkarot. Funny," she shrugged. "I hadn't pegged you for gay."
"GAY?" That did it. Vegeta lunged at her, but Goku and Gohan were right there to hold him back, kicking and screaming.
"Vegeta, we can fight after the tournament. It's no big deal," Goku counseled like a parent reassuring a boy who had been promised a lollipop, and received instead brussle sprouts. "They're only words. Don't let it get to you. Besides, you can't kill her. It's against the rules." After several very tense seconds, Vegeta calmed and shook off the two men. He pointed at Gaszha.
"Very well, but first, I'll fight YOU after the tournament, woman."
"Whatever," she said. "But you seem awfully fond of getting your ass kicked."
Piccolo choked. Gohan and Goku tensed, and Krillin looked as though his chin had dropped to his knees. But fortunately Vegeta was saved from another lapse of control when the announcer announced Gohan and Goku next. Vegeta clenched his fists and spun his back on her to watch as the two Saiyans entered excitedly out onto the ring-who had only left after making sure the situation was neutralized, of course.
"Boy, this will be something else," Krillin said, who was standing next to Piccolo. "Even though they agreed not to turn Super Saiyan, the fighting should be pretty intense. Father vs. Son."
"Hmm." Piccolo was VERY intrigued as to how this fight would go. Seven years ago, Gohan had been the strongest being on the planet, but perhaps his father had surpassed him in the afterlife.
He focused as the fighting commenced, trying to ignore the woman standing several yards away. Even though she was no longer gawking at him, he was still painfully aware of her presence. So, he thought. She's strong, but she can't possibly be a match for any of us when we're powered up. The fight would be awkward, but brief.
The match between the two Saiyans was an impressive display of strength and strategy, and when it was over, Goku remained standing. Piccolo had glanced over at Gaszha once or twice. Her eyes had been studiously fixed on the two, as if soaking in their techniques.
As well she should be, he considered. If she beats me then Goku is her next opponent. Then Piccolo frowned at his own train of thought. There's no way she's going to beat me.
"Piccolo vs. Gaszha!"
"Don't let her fool you, big guy," Krillin said.
"Don't worry. I won't."
Piccolo followed her out onto the arena and when they stood facing each other, she locked stares with him.
"You've given me more incentive to win, Piccolo. You realize that, don't you?"
He recalled her bet-that he'd be hers for one day should he lose. "I'm not as easily fooled as Vegeta. Your incentive will get you nowhere." With that he flung off his weighted cape and turban.
Her face lit up, and she whistled. "What's this? Are you trying to distract me with a strip tease?" She crouched into a defensive stanch, rolling back and forth on her heels. "What an interesting technique…"
"Enough!" He barked. Was it possible that everything he did or said only encouraged her more? It seemed like it. He shook off the awkwardness. This has to stop.
He lunged at her, and to his surprise she parried his blows, seemingly without effort. He flipped back. She was good. How could another being live on this planet with such strength, with none of them being the wiser?
"Who are you?" He called out, suspecting by now that her attraction for him was a façade. There had to be a hidden agenda.
"Uh…Gaszha?" Her eyes crinkled in jest.
"What do you really want here? And why are you after me?" He growled as they circled each other.
She stood upright and sighed. "Truly, I'm after the money. You're just a…" she pursed her lips and smiled, "…a bonus! As soon as I beat you, that is. All because I'm stronger than you thought doesn't mean everything I've said is a lie, Piccolo." She hunched down and clenched her fists. It took only a second, but she had powered up, considerably. Piccolo did the same.
They fell into another series of blow for blow. The fight took them into the air, and Piccolo felt his moves become frantic in the face of her remarkable strength. He flung back and stared at her. His earlier repulsion had been replaced by reluctant respect.
"All right," he said. "I've entertained you long enough." With that he powered up to his maximum, and was pleased to see her eyes widen as she paced herself backwards, away from him. And for once, she was speechless.
This time his hits connected. She somehow, however, managed to pull out of every throw before landing out of the ring. He could feel her energy draining. It wasn't much, but it was enough. She swung at him and missed. On the rebound he grabbed her calve and spun her, hurling her to the ground. Before she could pull out of it, he caught up to her descending body and clamped his limbs around her, pinning her arms to her sides. Let's see how well you pull out of my throw when it's three feet above the ground, he thought triumphantly.
And this time, her panic wasn't fake. She looked down at the rapidly approaching ground below them.
"Shit!" Her face reddened as she tried to break free from his grip. It wasn't easy to maintain the hold, but Piccolo wasn't about to spend an entire day with this woman. He felt a smile broaden his face as he watched her struggle. Her expression went from frantic to desperate, and then she looked right at him and froze. Whatever idea crossed her mind was only manifest by the glint in her eye, giving him no preparation for what happened next.
Face to face as they were, Gaszha suddenly, aggressively, locked her lips onto his. The sudden warmth, and wetness shocked him beyond recovery. His grip slackened, and she in turn wrapped her arms around his torso, and before he could retaliate, Gaszha flung him to the ground like a slingshot--pulling out of the descent at the last possible moment.
The impact was hard. Piccolo felt the dirt being displaced all around him, and when he'd finally come to a stop he could only look up from the bottom of the crater he'd created at the woman floating over it.
Gaszha was panting heavily, and when their stares connected she smiled and threw a fist in the air.
"And the winner is Gaszha!" the announcer bellowed.
Piccolo heard the crowd roar, but it served only as background static to the noise in his head. What just…? Did she? Lost? I lost? He wondered if he could burrow a hole and disappear from the event all together, popping up somewhere miles from here. In the distance he could hear Vegeta ranting about how she had cheated again, and would someone please throw her out of the competition.
Piccolo couldn't focus. I can't believe she did that! Was he angry? Frustrated? He sure as hell should have been, that was certain. Oddly, though his body ached from the impact, the only sensation he was cognizant of was the memory of her lips… He rubbed his forearm roughly across his mouth.
"Hey Piccolo!" Gohan descended into the pit, and extended his hand. "Wow. I didn't see that coming! She really plays dirty."
"She…does." He batted Gohan's hand away and stood to his feet.
"You look pretty stunned. Do you feel all right?"
"I feel…strange." And it was true. He felt odd…befuddled. "Is…is she still up there?"
"She's resting for the match with my father."
"Hmm." Piccolo took a deep breath and ascended with Gohan to the sideline where the others were waiting. He held a hand up to halt their comments. "I don't want to talk about it."
Reluctantly, they bit back their questions. All Piccolo wanted was to focus on the fight with Goku and get his mind off his own match, and her mouth. After several minutes Goku entered the arena with Gaszha behind him. As they faced each other, Piccolo tuned his ears to their conversation.
"You're a decent fighter, Gaszha, but you're out of tricks," Goku said.
"I may have one left," she said, curling her hands into claws as they began to circle each other. "The question is, will I need to use it?"
They both powered up. Piccolo noticed that her level had reached what it had when she had fought him, but it wasn't all he noticed. He found his eyes dropping to where her pants hugged her hips, and the way her muscles moved underneath the material. Her top clung to her body from the battle sweat in an earthy, alluring sort of way…
He grunted and clenched his eyes closed. What's happening to me…?
"You all right Piccolo?" Krillin asked.
He fought to focus his thoughts. "I think she…did something to me."
"She kissed you, Namek," Vegeta growled. "And that's all it took to disarm you. If you're thinking you lost to some great magical trick, think again."
Piccolo reached out and grabbed a fistful of Vegeta's shirt. "Don't downplay my assumptions!"
Vegeta snarled.
"Quiet you two," Number Eighteen said. "They started."
"What?" Piccolo dropped Vegeta immediately and they both turned their attention to the flurry of fists and feet in the arena. He found himself more and more impressed with the way she moved and countered Goku's attacks. And on top of that the fight provided a great excuse for him to just stand and observe her…
Piccolo gave himself a mental thwack. Why am I reacting to her like this all of a sudden? It was confusing, weird…unprecedented, and he battled with it the entire time he watched them fight.
Goku ascended into the air and she followed. They began to swap energy blasts, and the clash of their fighting stung Piccolo's eyes.
"Man," Gohan said. "They're really going at it."
"It won't last much longer," Vegeta said. "Her strength is draining."
Vegeta was right. Goku had just knocked her down into the arena. The crunch of the stage echoed through the stands.
"Ouch," Krillin said. "I bet that hurt."
Piccolo stepped forward, wondering why he was all of a sudden concerned for her well-being. She slowly and unsteadily rose to her feet. Goku landed a few yards in front of her.
"If you forfeited now, I'd understand," he said.
She wiped the blood from her mouth, and snickered. "Sorry. Quitting isn't in my nature."
"Fine. Have it your way." Goku sprung at her with his arm cocked back.. But before he reached her, she was engulfed in a sphere of radiating light that sent him sprawling backwards. The high-pitched whistle of concentrated energy filled the stadium.
"What's happening to her?" Gohan asked as he squinted through the brightness. Piccolo wondered the same thing, though he wasn't about to voice it.
"I…" Vegeta shielded his eyes. "I don't know, but that's a lot of power out there." Goku looked as confused as Piccolo felt, then Gohan managed to see something the rest of them hadn't.
"Dad, look out!"
Piccolo watched Goku tense as a streak of light shot forth from the radiating ball. Whatever it was, it hit him, hard. Goku's body sailed off the stage and was imbedded into the stadium wall.
Silence filled the stadium. The light faded, and Gaszha stood on the edge of the arena…only she had changed.
"It…it can't be!" Vegeta stuttered.
Piccolo was speechless as he stared at the golden-haired, green-eyed woman emanating electricity like a lightning bolt.
"She's a," Gohan began. "She's…"
"A Saiyan," Krillin finished. "Gaszha is a Saiyan!"

Chapter 4

"You want me to show you WHAT?" Gaszha asked incredulously as she faced the powerful group of fighters who were staring at her as if she were a living legend.
"Your tail scar," Goku said as he turned his back to her and pulled down the waistline of his pants. "This."
Gaszha looked and noticed a circular scar that dimpled the warrior's skin at the base if his spine. She felt herself blush.
"Don't you have one?" Krillin asked.
She self-consciously felt the scar above her tailbone. "Of course I have one. Doesn't everybody? What I don't get is why you want to see it." This was getting weirder and weirder, she thought. Most of the demon folk had tails. Humans just cut theirs off.
"Don't you know what you are?" Vegeta asked angrily.
"Uh…human? Is this a joke?"
"Tell us your story, Gaszha," Piccolo said, "and we'll tell you ours." She looked at him. For all that he tried to avoid her earlier, it looked like she had his undivided attention now, and he seemed just as awestruck as the rest of them. About time you stopped fighting me, Piccolo.
"The demons of Yosolk found me in a metal contraption 20 years ago after an earthquake. They believed I'd been buried in the ice for some time. One of their females felt sorry for me, and took me in." She sat down. "The end."
"Where were you when Cell was around?" Gohan asked, his brow quirked in curiosity.
"Who?" she asked.
"Demons don't surface very often," Piccolo explained in his heavy, masculine voice. "They live underground or in parallel dimensions. It's entirely possible that they were unaware of the whole encounter--especially in the Yosolk mountains where Cell hadn't yet reached." His eyes rested on her discreetly. "That would explain why none of us knew about her, and how she never knew about the earth's predators."
"You're talking about me as if I were some experiment gone awry," she said defensively.
"That's because you are!" Vegeta yelled. "First of all, humans DON'T have tails, secondly, their DNA isn't altered when they power up, changing the color of their hair and eyes." He went over to a chair and sat down. "Let me tell you the story of a proud, warrior race…"
And she listened. The more she heard, the more she believed that this man was telling the truth. He spoke of Saiyans, of an evil Frieza, of he and Goku's first encounter, and numerous adventures since then. When he was done she blew her breath out in a long whistle and sat back with her hands clasped behind her head. For some reason her eyes had moistened. She quickly blinked back the water.
"So…" she cleared her throat. "You believe I was sent here to destroy the earth with Goku, but my capsule preserved my body when it plummeted from the sky into the snow-packed Mountains. And somehow I've 'transcended' into a Super Saiyan-a power level only heard about in myth back on our home planet. But this planet has a way of bringing it out in our people because you're all Super Saiyans as well…"
To demonstrate, Goku, Gohan and Vegeta all transformed in a brief, but impressive display of power, and before her stood three golden-haired, green-eyed warriors.
"Unbelievable." Gaszha backed away from the white-hot energy that was emanating from them. "You may have beat me after all, had you known what I was capable of."
"Of course we would have," snapped Vegeta, who seemed to have forgotten all about his wounded pride in the face of Gaszha's newfound identity. "And now you make us three. Three survivors of our noble planet."
She said nothing in the following silence. If it was all a lie, then why did it feel so right? She'd always wondered how it was that she fit in so well with the demons when all the humans she'd come across wouldn't have lasted a day in the Yosolk Caverns. She'd been an anomaly...until now.
Considering it was true, then her entire identity that she'd spent her life developing had been undermined in minutes. It was overwhelming. Her emotions shifted rapidly; confusion, disbelief, amazement, loneliness…
"I…I need to leave." She stood and walked briskly to the door.
"Wait!" Krillin frantically scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to her. "Uh, you might want this. It's our contact information." She looked at him, and he explained. "You know, addresses, phone numbers," he looked at Piccolo. "Coordinates."
"Well, are we going to see you again?" Gohan asked anxiously. "I mean, we could have Bulma and Vegeta check out your space capsule. For all I know you could be my aunt, or something."
His aunt? Would they accept her as family so easily? Would she be betraying the species that raised her if she deserted them now…? "I don't know. This is insane. I don't even know who I am anymore…" Her throat constricted. She turned and looked each in the eye, lingering on Piccolo after the rest. Pity he was tied into all this. "Goodbye."
With that she left and ascended into the air, leaving behind her the powerful warriors and this strange day on which she met them.

Chapter 5

Piccolo stood at the rail of Kami's Lookout several days later. He'd gone into deep meditation since the tournament in an effort to regain control of his thoughts. It hadn't worked.
"There you are, Piccolo," Mr. Popo said behind him.
Piccolo jolted. It wasn't the first time he hadn't sensed someone approaching in the last few days. Very unlike him…
Mr. Popo stood next to him and looked out over the earth. A long silence passed between them until finally Piccolo broke it.
"I…" he sighed. He wasn't accustomed to expressing his feelings, but he couldn't wait another day with all this tension penned up inside. And Mr. Popo was wise. He just may be able to help. "I haven't felt like myself since the tournament."
"You have been rather subdued, Piccolo."
"Mmm."
"Is it Gaszha?"
Piccolo flinched at hearing her name.
"Ah," Mr. Popo said. "It is."
Piccolo frowned, and reluctantly unloaded. "I can't stop thinking about her."
"Hmm." Mr. Piccolo sighed. "She did seem to come out of nowhere and surprise everyone. You shouldn't feel bad that she beat you, Piccolo," he commented innocently.
The hard edge in Piccolo's face dissolved into a look of distress, and he turned to face Mr. Popo. "I don't. It's not THAT she beat me. It's…how."
"Her trickery? I could hear Vegeta's complaints quite clearly even from up here-"
"No. I mean yes." Frustrated, Piccolo turned back over the railing.
There was a pause and Piccolo felt Mr. Popo's eyes on him. "There's something completely unfamiliar in you," Mr. Popo said, scrutinizing him.
"Obviously," Piccolo said. "That's what I've been trying to tell you. It's how I think about her; the way she looked, smelled, fought…" He looked down, and added quietly, "Her kiss…"
"Oh…oh my," Mr. Popo interjected. Piccolo dropped down to Mr. Popo's height and grabbed his vest.
"What's happening to me? Up until our fight, all I wanted was for her to leave me alone, and now all I want is to see her again!" He shook his head. "It's not right. I'm a Namek for crying out loud!"
Mr. Popo gently unlatched Piccolo's hands from his vest. "It sounds like you're attracted to her, Piccolo."
"But I can't be!"
Mr. Popo paused as he thought. "Think about it, Piccolo. Nameks are an adaptable species. When you are in cold weather here, such as was never had on Namek, your body adjusts so that you become impervious to it. If you lose a limb, it replaces itself. If you're trapped under water, your skin sucks oxygen from the surrounding molecules so you don't have to breathe through your mouth."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that you've adapted to this planet in more ways you thought possible. In a system that requires two genders to procreate, your body has altered itself to do just that, and Gaszha's kiss is what triggered it."
Piccolo wanted to counter Mr. Popo's words with his own. He wanted to say something that would cancel out Mr. Popo's explanation, but he couldn't. It made sense, and somewhere inside of him, he believed it.
"I don't want this, Mr. Popo. I can't focus on anything. I can't meditate."
"You should seek her out, and resolve your curiosities."
"I can't go in search of her! That'd only make it worse."
"Then when she gets here, give her your undivided attention."
"She may never come!"
"You're wrong." Mr. Popo leaned over the railing. "As a matter of fact I see her right now."
"What?" Piccolo looked over and indeed there she was, a small speck down below closing in rapidly. He couldn't believe he'd missed her approach. And then an odd sensation formed in his chest and spread all throughout his body. She was here! How was he supposed to act?
At that point, Gaszha appeared over the railing, and landed not ten feet from him. Her hair was wind-tossed from the flight, and her face flushed from the morning's chill air. Her attire came in a neat arrangement of blacks and greens, and the material was such that it hugged here and hung off there to accentuate her full-bodied figure. She was visually stimulating. Robbed of will and independent thought, Piccolo could only stare. Fortuntely, however, she misinterpreted it.
"You were hoping I wouldn't come, eh Piccolo?" Her voice for some reason triggered his saliva glands and he found himself wondering what it would be like to kiss her in a non-combatant setting. He said nothing.
"Well, I'm tired of thinking about who I am and who I am not. I need a distraction and you're it. I'm afraid I'll have to hold you to our bet."
Piccolo didn't realize he was still staring. His eyes had dropped to her waist where two-inches of midriff separated the top from the bottom.
"Ready to go?"
"Hmm?" Piccolo shook himself. "Oh, uh…" he looked quickly to Mr. Popo, who nodded his head. Piccolo looked back to Gaszha. "Y-yes."
"Good." Unexpectedly, she walked up to him and yanked off his turban, and lifted off his cape. He watched as both items crunched on the floor. "You're more handsome without them."
He gawked at her. "There's not many women on this planet who could do what you just did," he stuttered. "And even if there were, I'd never let them do it."
"Well," she brushed her hands on his shoulders, which somehow made his gut tighten and his feet tingle. "Thank goodness I won the bet, then." Her eyes fixed on his antennae, and crinkled in curiosity. "Hmm. What odd little appendages."
Gaszha reached up and lightly touched one. He gasped and jumped back, stumbling in the process.
Her eyes lit up, and she laughed. "Whoa there. Guess those are pretty sensitive. I'll try to remember that next time we fight."
Piccolo swallowed, desperately trying to regain his composure as he was bombarded by new sensations.
"Piccolo, Piccolo."
He found that he liked how she said his name.
"Are you going to make me feel like a freak the whole day, or are you going to be able to tolerate me?"
"I'll be, uh, fine."
She sighed. "Then let's go."
"Where?"
"I know of some places."

Chapter 6

The day was coming to an end, and Piccolo looked over the cliff to a halved sun dimming on the waterline.
"I told you it'd be beautiful. The sun sets prettiest over the ocean. Always," Gaszha said as she shifted in her sitting position to get a better view.
"Mmm." He felt incredibly relaxed, as opposed to earlier that morning when he was a walking bauble of clumsiness and confusion; stumbling over his own feet, stuttering on his own words... They had flown to this place, and had talked…ALL DAY. It startled him to realize that this was the first time they'd had a lull in the conversation.
She asked him question after question. In retrospect, he felt that she drilled him though it didn't seem so at the time. And he opened up. So unlike him… He spoke of Namek, and what he thought was his destiny. He spoke of wanting to kill-and finally killing-Goku, and subsequently raising his son, Gohan; whom he later died for, finally having learned how to care for someone besides himself.
He figured early on that if he didn't look directly at Gaszha, he was able to think more clearly. She interpreted it as disinterest, and he let her. Easier to deal with that than the opposite, he thought. And the longer they spoke, the more comfortable he became and had ultimately spent the last two hours of the day making eye contact, and using hand gestures to express himself better.
He was a different person around her, yet oddly he didn't care. Piccolo shook his head.
"What are you thinking?" She asked.
He paused. "I'm thinking that I was just interrogated for an entire day, and it didn't even bother me."
She perked. "You intrigue me. What can I say?"
"Why?"
It was her turn to be quiet and stare at the horizon. After several seconds, she shrugged. "I can't explain it, really. I'm just drawn to you, which is quite odd considering that the chemistry," she gave him a good once-over from head to toe, and smiled sadly, "is not, nor ever can be…mutual."
Ah, the sexless thing, Piccolo thought. Better that she doesn't know what's been happening to me, because of her… And then it hit him that it was indeed odd. In her mind she was intentionally fostering a hopeless relationship. Piccolo wondered how long it would last before she got frustrated and gave up on him. And then he wondered if he'd even let it get that far.
He watched Gaszha as she stared at the sunset, and was hit by another rush of feelings and longings that he had no idea how to cope with. She'd wrapped her arms around her calves as she sat, resting her chin on her knees. Her hair was none-too-securely tucked behind her Saiyan ears, and her expressive shadowed eyes glistened from the light of the setting sun.
He secretly dug his nails into the flesh of his palm to funnel his thoughts. Conversation, he thought. He needed a subject to fix on, for in the silence he only fixed on her. He suddenly found himself curious about her life, and how she worked. "What's it like living with the demons?"
If the question caught her off guard, she didn't show. Sighing, she said, "Intense."
"How so?"
She looked at him as if surprised that he wanted more than a one-word answer. She cleared her throat and looked back out over the ocean.
"A lot of violence, a lot of competition, a lot of back-stabbing. I have many friends, but the only demon I trust completely is the female who raised me, and she's dead."
Piccolo considered that her death was probably aided, and figured it was none of his business . "I'm…I'm sorry."
Gaszha shrugged. An awkward silence fell between them, and Piccolo was unsure how to break it. She'd lived a life that would have suited him perfectly had he never aligned himself with good. He imagined that her concept of 'normal' was probably more than a little askew. Yet why, then, did she seem so sincere?
"Who taught you how to love in that environment?"
A brief pause, and then she snorted. "A demon named Zobo, or at least he thinks so anyhow." She rolled her eyes. "He's more aggressive with me on a daily basis than I was with you at the tournament."
Piccolo felt the beginnings of a growl resound in his chest, and quickly quieted. Whoever this Zobo was, he knew he wanted him out of the picture. Gaszha was hiiisss… Startled, he shook himself. What the hell…?
Having no awareness that she'd just made him jealous, Gaszha continued. "Seriously, though, besides my mother-it was the humans that taught me how."
Huh? He quirked an eyebrow at her.
"We'd raid them every so often. You know, for sport. A couple times I'd go to scout out the communities, and found myself observing them." She winced, as if at some resurfacing guilt. "I saw how they interacted with each other; as families, friends, co-workers… All so endearing. So unlike my home." She smiled ruefully. "And I wreaked havoc on them anyways."
Piccolo said nothing. After several seconds, she continued.
"That's what the tournament money was for, you know. To undo the damage I've done. The last couple days were spent distributing what I could to the towns I'd helped terrorize."
Piccolo was impressed. He never tried to right his wrongs, and he'd terrorized plenty before Gohan had changed his life. "That was…good of you."
"That was right of me. I'm still working on the good part," she winked at him-something that she did often, something he found pleasantly distracting. "A year ago, I made a decision to start listening to my gut instinct instead of my conditioning. As a result, I've been campaigning in the demon world to end the attacks on the humans."
"That can't be a popular notion."
"Oh, it isn't. But where coercion fails, brute strength succeeds." At that, a very familiar grin split her face. It was the grin of someone who knew that they could kick anyone's ass, anytime.
"What you say, goes," Piccolo smiled back at her, finding more in common with the woman than he'd anticipated.
"Eventually. Needless to say, the humans haven't seen hide nor hair of my people since."
"Hmm."
She stood up, and brushed the dirt off her clothes. The only colors left in the sky were darkening shades of blue, and it was getting chilly. "Well Piccolo, I've taken up enough of your time."
A dull ache contracted his chest, and he felt a sadness wash over him. "Is…is the day over?" And the question he wasn't about to ask, Will I ever see you again?
"Yep. You've done a marvelous job of pretending to enjoy yourself, and for that, I thank you." She grabbed a long coat of ambiguous material up off the ground and wrapped herself in it.
"I…" What he said next just might bring her back later. It could also further throw his once-controlled feelings into utter chaos. His old self wouldn't have even entertained the thought of encouraging her. But his old self wasn't in control anymore… He swallowed. "I wasn't."
"Hmm?"
"Pretending," he breathed. "I wasn't pretending."
She froze and whatever thoughts were racing through her mind failed to alter her expression. Piccolo had expected a reaction-he needed a reaction. He'd just crossed a line, and had to know where the new boundaries lie.
Finally her eyes narrowed and she chewed her bottom lip, "What was it that made you change your mind about me?" she asked. "My strength?"
"No."
"My new-found identity as a Saiyan?"
"No."
"Then what was it?"
"It was you." It was vague, but true. And it was the only answer she was going to get. Already, Piccolo felt like his heart was beating in his throat, a sensation he only got when facing an unbeatable foe. She stood there scrutinizing him, leaning on one hip with her head cocked. As he watched her, Piccolo became uncomfortably aware of where his hands were, and where he'd rather they be.
"So this isn't some ploy to get me to join your little fighter posse of super heros, is it…?" she asked.
Piccolo unfolded his arms and stared at her, slightly stung. "Is that what you think?"
She nodded.
"No, Gaszha. It's not," he said firmly. "Your upbringing has made you cynical. I don't play those games."
It was apparently the right answer. Her expression lifted into mischief, just like it had the day of the tournament when she'd spent most of her time flirting with him. She paced slowly up to him with her hands clasped behind her back until they were face to face. Piccolo forgot to breathe for several seconds while she basked in his obvious discomfort.
"Then you wouldn't be opposed to doing this again sometime?" she asked.
She was so close to him it was hard to think. Thank heavens he only needed to say one word. "N-no."
"Great." She wrapped her arms around his chest in a quick embrace and then skipped off. "I'll be seeing you around, Piccolo," she cried as she hopped into the evening sky. He watched her until she disappeared from view, and then leaned heavily against a rock outcropping with his head in his hands.
Stunned, stupefied, and elated, Piccolo wondered just what he'd gotten himself into.

Chapter 7

Gaszha levitated several feet in the air, trying desperately to tune out the occasional wildlife sounds of the Mediterranean mesa. It was difficult for her to focus her ki and stay grounded, but Piccolo said it didn't matter where she was. Multi-form could be done anywhere.
She repeated her thoughts in a mantra. I'm in two places, I'm in two places… Two places… A hawk screeched in the distance, breaking her concentration, and she fell. "Dammit!" she screamed as she slammed her fists into the dried ground, causing a slight quake. "It's been three months, and I STILL can't get it right!"
Piccolo softly landed and crouched down beside her. She turned to him and saw a look of amusement lighting up his handsome face.
"Don't you dare make a joke of my frustration, you pompous, over-grown elf," she growled.
He didn't outright laugh, but a stunning smile broadened his face. "How did you ever reach the level of Super Saiyan with that kind of patience, Gaszha?"
"I got in a lot of fights, that's how."
"Fights can't compare to meticulous and tedious training."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah."
"Get up and try again."
"No."
Without warning, he scooped her up in his arms and flung her into the air. She was almost forty feet high before she could stop herself. She glared down at him incredulously, and then couldn't hold her anger anymore. She started laughing.
They'd spent a great deal of time together the past few months; training, meditating, fighting…doing nothing at all. In such a short time, she felt that he'd become a better friend than any she'd ever had in all her life. And it seemed the same with him, though they never really talked about it. And if a platonic friendship was all she could have from him, then so be it. Just as long as she had that…
Occasionally, she'd catch him looking at her in such a way that made her wonder if the Namek was attracted to her after all, despite the fact that it was impossible. But then she'd shake herself. Her mind was creating venues where there weren't any. Ultimately, to continue spending time with him, as she loved to do, she pursued relationships elsewhere as a distraction-to lessen her longing for this wonderful, amazing, sexless being. Gaszha sighed.
Piccolo floated up to her. "What is it?"
"Nothing," she said. "I'm ready."
"All right. Just remember. See yourself in two places… Believe it. Then concentrate all your ki into that one idea."
"Blah blah, yeah I know…"
Gaszha closed her eyes and let her mind relax. Relax, she told herself. Relax? That's it! This whole time she'd been approaching it with all the aggression of a warrior, not giving her thoughts break enough to create a new technique.
So, she relaxed. It took several minutes, and just as she felt herself nodding off she imagined herself in two places. She believed it. And then…
Her ki circled around her and re-absorbed into her body. She felt the magic work as it tugged on her, pulling half of her away until, to her surprise, she stood there looking at herself.
"Oo..oh!" Both Gaszhas screamed in unison. "I did it!" she said in dual tones. They did identical back flips in the air when Gaszha realized that it wasn't quite right, yet. "Hey, Piccolo!" they both cried out. "Why am I copying myself?"
Piccolo looked immensely pleased, the hard edge totally gone from his face. "You've yet to multi-form your mind. But that comes next. For now, get accustomed to being in two places."
It was incredibly fun. Piccolo went down and leaned against a rock as she did somersaults and flips in the air for several minutes. Finally she got bored and descended…both of her.
"Hey, how do you-" Suddenly her second self snapped back into her original body, and it knocked her off her feet.
"Like that," Piccolo chuckled.
She smiled triumphantly at her new friend. Gaszha had avoided touching him all this time for his sake, but this demanded celebration. She sprung up and tackled him, caging him against the rock wall. He grunted, but didn't push her away.
"Three long months, and I finally did it!" she proclaimed as she smiled up at his stunned face. "NOW will you tell me how long it took you? You said you would when I multi-formed… Piccolo?"
His stare seemed transfixed on her, as if he hadn't heard a word she'd said. She pinched his waist, and his eyes widened dramatically.
"How long, big guy?"
"Almost a year."
"What?"
"It's true. I just didn't want you to use that time frame as an excuse for slacking off."
"So I did it faster than you?"
"Don't rub it in."
She smiled and laid her head against his chest. She should have let go of him then. She knew she should have, but how often did she have an opportunity to be affectionate like this under the cover of accomplishment? Besides, the texture of his skin was so…different. She found her left hand tracing the integrated stretches across his waist, and then onto the cord-like lining of his heavily muscled stomach. And entirely different from either of those textures was the skin on his chest--totally smooth against her cheek.
His body stiffened, and she heard a distinct pitter-patter coming from within. Pressing her ear against him, her brows lifted in surprise.
"Why Piccolo," she said in awe. "You have a heart…or at least an organ that pumps blood through your body like everyone else. Only it's faster." She listened again. "A LOT faster."
She felt his torso expand with a deep breath, and his hands touched her shoulders lightly. The gesture was most likely to politely push her out of his personal space, but nonetheless it threw her into a wave of spontaneous sensuality, and when she looked up, his head was bowed and the intensity with which he looked at her only added to her confusion.
For a moment, she actually thought he might kiss her. My word, I'm really seeing things now. It was too much. She pushed back, panting.
"Sorry," she said hurriedly. "Sorry. I just-"
"Gaszha-"
Scatter-brained, she began to babble. "I know you can't feel the same, and I have no right imposing myself on you. I have no right to pretend, and shouldn't tantalize myself with something that can't be-"
"Gaszha-"
"Just don't rescind our friendship. Please! I'll get over it somehow, I promise. I'm life-committing to Zobo Friday night-"
Piccolo's expression transformed from supplication to…panic? She shook her head. Can't be. Just my imagination, again, she thought.
"Life-committing?" he stammered.
"It's demon-term for marriage-"
"M-marriage? You can't!" he yelled.
How sweet, she thought sadly. He's protective of me, just like a freakin' older brother. "He's good to me Piccolo. He even said he'd tarry on the surface occasionally. The pairing makes sense, and I think it'll take the underlying tension out of my friendship with you."
"But you don't love him!"
"Do I need to? Honestly, Piccolo, I'm flattered you care and all, but it's for the best. I have to do something, and by Friday night-" it hit her. It WAS Friday night. She slapped her hand to her forehead. "I'm late! I can't believe I got the days mixed up! He's going to have a fit! I have to go…" She turned to leave.
"GASZHA!"
She looked back over her shoulder to the frantic Namek. His mouth hung open and his face looked strained, as if whatever words he'd planned on saying couldn't make it past his throat. She filled the gap. "You know, Piccolo," she said softly. "It's a pity you're incapable of feeling the same way about me that I feel about you." With one last, lingering look, she hopped into the air-
…only to be yanked down by his grip on her ankle. She landed in his clutches. Before she could utter a word, he grabbed her face with both hands and kissed her.
…and kissed her, and kissed her, and kissed her… Thoughts of what-the-hell were pushed aside as her knees quickly weakened, and her arms turned to jelly. Even her mind seemed to turn to mush. He finally pulled back, exhilarated, as if equally surprised at his boldness.
"If that was all for my benefit," she finally breathed after the passionate stupor slightly subsided . "Then you're being awfully, AWFULLY generous."
His hands fell and curled around her body, hugging her against him. "It wasn't."
She absently slid her arms up over his broad shoulders. "You have some explaining…to…do, Piccolo."
He kissed her again. "Later."

Chapter 8

Two years later…

"Gohan! Will you sweep the patio?"
"Coming, Videl," Gohan hopped to the closet and whipped out the broom. He found himself practically skipping past his pregnant wife while she was vacuuming.
"Hurry," she coaxed. "They'll be here any minute."
Gohan went outside and looked to the sky. He dropped the broom, ecstatic. "Too late! They're already here!" He waved his arms vigorously to the couple in the sky. "Hey guys!"
Videl came out to join him, and they watched eagerly as Piccolo and Gaszha descended onto the patio with their new baby girl. Gohan went up and gave a hearty hug to both of them. "Wow, Gaszha, you look great."
"She does," Piccolo agreed, looking at his wife with more than a little appreciation.
"Well, it's been two months," Gaszha said good-naturedly.
"All right already," Videl said anxiously. "Let me see this baby that Gohan keeps talking about." She reached up and took the bundle from Piccolo's cradled arms. Gohan watched as his wife unwrapped the blanket and held up a chubby, squiggly infant. "She's beautiful… Just wait until she gets older. I imagine Goten or Trunks will want to date her. There's no relation, right, Gohan?"
Gohan laughed. "No, thought I don't think Piccolo appreciate you playing match maker with his daughter so soon."
Piccolo grunted the affirmative. It had turned out by Gaszha's parentage chip in her old capsule that she was neither related to Vegeta nor Goku. Those Saiyan features, however, were pretty dominant. They paired strong with strong, Vegeta had said, and seeing how powerful Gaszha was, Gohan didn't doubt it.
"Wow," Videl said as he looked at the baby and then comparatively to the child's parents. "She looks like a green, pointy-eared Gaszha."
"I'm just relieved she has hair," Gaszha said as she twirled her finger in the black tresses. "So when are you due, Videl?"
"Three weeks," she said, and with her expression, added, I'm so sick of being pregnant. Gohan recognized it well. He'd been seeing it since morning sickness hit his wife six months ago.
"Well, let's eat," Gohan said. "I'm starving."
"Ah, me too." Gaszha said, and Gohan caught a brief look between Videl and Piccolo that said in exasperation, Those Saiyans and their appetites…

* * *
Later that evening, Gohan stretched out on a lawn chair as Piccolo played in the grass with little his cooing baby girl. Gaszha was inside explaining the birthing process in no uncertain terms to Videl, and neither of the males had any interest in hearing that story again.
Gohan looked at the Namek, whose once hard-edged face reflected more smiles than frowns lately. "I've never seen you this happy, Piccolo," he said.
Piccolo gently tickled his daughter's ribcage. She squealed in delight. "Life has more meaning when you can share it with someone," he said quietly without looking up.
"And to create a life with that someone makes it all the more special," Gohan finished.
Piccolo nodded.
"And to think this all started with," Gohan did his best impression of a stress-ridden Piccolo voice, "That woman over there has been staring at me since we arrived! Grrr!"
Piccolo's eyes flared, and he looked at Gohan and laughed. "Yes, I guess you could say that I've changed," the Namek conceded.
"I never thought I'd see the day," Gohan said. "Actually, with as many times as our lives were on the line, I never thought I'd see the day I'd grow to be a man, let alone see you fall in love. I'm just grateful for the chance to enjoy the life I fought so hard to preserve."
Me too," Piccolo said quietly as he looked through the window to a certain Saiyan woman chatting inside. "Me too."