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About the Couch

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The phone was ringing.

Goten jumped up from the table at the sound of it, "I'll get it!" he called, as though to stop the others from reaching it first. Neither his brother nor his father made any move toward the phone and his mother was busy getting started on the dishes.

"Hello?" the boy asked after picking up the reciever.

"Goten!"

"Oh, hi, Trunks," Goten said, smiling instantly.

"Goten, listen. I have to burn my couch."

Goten frowned a little, his brow knotted as he asked, "Why do you have to do that?" There was an unsettling silence before Trunks finally spoke again.

"I can't tell you why. We just need a new one. I can't stand to look at it anymore, it gives me the creeps. Can you come over today?"

"Ummm."

The youngest Son put his hand over the phone and turned to his mother. He knew better than to ask her, because the answer would probably be 'no', and he glanced at Gohan, instead, briefly wondering if he should ask his older brother to take him. That was a big 'maybe', though...

"Hey, Dad," Goten quipped.

Goku looked up from his breakfast, chopsticks pausing half-way to his mouth, and Goten inclined his head.

"Can we go visit Trunks today?" he asked, trying to look sad at the prospect of being turned down, "It's been forever since we got to play."

Goku looked at though he were going to speak for a moment, and Goten smiled a little. But he didn't, and took the bite he'd paused and glanced across at his wife when she turned away from the sink, drying her hands.

"Oh, Goten, it hasn't been forever," Chi-chi, said, looking at her youngest son, "Trunks spent the night just a few weeks ago."

Goten pouted.

"But Mom that was weeks ago," he began.

"I dunno, Chi-chi," Goku said, jumping in before she could actually say no and smiling at her, "It has been a while since we've seen Vegeta and Bulma."

Chi-chi blinked at him, then turned abruptly on Gohan, who looked up in surprise, not realizing he had been part of the equation, let alone the deciding factor. Goten waited with bated breath, and heard Trunks' voice echo from the reciever, "Hello-o? Goten, are you still there?"

"Have you finished your homework?" Chi-chi asked.

"I didn't have any," Gohan said.

Chi-chi frowned at that, instantly suspicious. "How does a high-school student not have homework??"

"He finishes it during class," Gohan said, smiling.

This seemed to placate Chi-chi and she said, "Well, I hope you still paid attention to your teacher," as Goku grinned across the table at Goten. The boy smiled, putting the phone back to his ear, and told Trunks they would be there soon.

Whether or not they actually burned the couch remains to be seen.

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Earlier that morning

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Trunks clambored down the stairs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

It was eight o'clock on a Saturday morning and, true to his nature, the half-sayain was going to get in as much cartoon-watching as he could before the rest of the household woke up. Locating the remote, Trunks threw himself against the back of the couch, blinking blearily at the television set.

He flicked it on, stiffling a yawn with his hand. It was while dropping his hand and turning his attention to the active screen that Trunks noticed the bright red stilletto underneath the coffee table in front of him. He blinked at it, frowning. Mom had left the house last night with red stillettos on, when she finally managed to force Dad into going out with her. Dad had only agreed, Trunks was sure, so he wouldn't have to listen to the request anymore.

Mom had been wanting that date for weeks.

Atleast they made it back all right, Trunks thought, still frowning at the red shoe. What was it doing in here? He let his eyes wander around the floor for the other shoe, just incase it happened to be around also, and made another, more startling, discovery:

Mom's red dress.

Discarded carelessly alongside the couch as his feet.

Trunks grimaced, his brow knotting.

Looking toward the door, he spotted another shoe that wasn't a stilletto, along with the gray slacks his father had left in the night before. He could only wonder where the shirt had gone. When he noticed the pantyhose tossed over the opposite end of the couch, Trunks got up, shuddering.

They knew he sat on that couch....

Pointedly ignoring the scattered clothes, and trying desperately to supress the thoughts, Trunks retreated to the recliner across the room and watched Tv. He was still ignoring it when his grandmother bustled into the livingroom, blonde and cheerfull as usual.

"Good morning, darling," she told him, smiling as she came up behind the couch.

"Morning," he said, not even glancing toward her.

He shuddered again, and focused on the Tv. His grandmother must have noticed the stray clothes, because a moment later he heard her say,

"My goodness."

In his peripheral vision, Trunks saw her pick the dress up off the floor, and he grimaced when she plucked the pantyhose from the couch. He nearly fell out of his seat when all his grandmother said was, "What an odd place to leave dirty laundry," and proceeded to gather them up and take them to the wash room.

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(A/n) My mother's done that to us before, except without the evidence. ....And it wasn't our couch... Anyway, whenever I become a parent, I promise to respect my children a little bit more than the average adult, no matter how exciting "it" seems at the time. xD

please review!

--Motcn