AN: If you look at these, a lot of them are based on real-life stuff. Ya know, things that have happened to me. This is one of those. Ayiyiyi…my mother told me this story about something I did when I was little. Heeheehee, enjoy! I don't own DBZ.

Strangers with Candy

Gohan peered up at the fast-food menu hanging near the ceiling and frowned. What did he want, what did he want? A number two, or a number eight? Decisions, decisions, decisions…

Beside him, two very small demi-Saiyans fidgeted anxiously. Goten and Trunks, ages two and three, respectively, were starving, but Gohan was taking so long to decide what they were getting. And besides, they were bored. Shopping all day was not their idea of fun.

But fortunately for their minute attention spans, they had been promised lunch if they were to cooperate, so cooperate they did. The two small children had even gone so far as to help carry things. Goten had to be careful, though. He didn't want to strain himself carrying a present he and Gohan had picked up for their mother. After all, earrings could be mighty heavy.

Now the chibis were jumping up and down out of sheer boredom. What was taking so long? They were starving! They wanted the lunch they had been promised! They wanted it now!

Finally, even Gohan's patience (which was nothing short of monumental) began to fade, and he turned away from the obviously bored and decidedly impolite cashier and bent down to the children. "Tell you what. Why don't you two go find us a table, and get some straws and napkins and set the table for us. I'll bring the food in minute. Okay?"

"Okay!" the two children squeaked before scurrying off to obey. It was a small restaurant, and there really weren't that many people in it, so Gohan figured it was all right. He could keep a relatively good eye on them, and if they made a mess, they wouldn't get lunch. Simple enough.

Gohan turned back to the cashier. "Okay, let's see. We need five number ones…" He went about placing this order—an order that, to the poor cashier—seemed exceedingly large for one teenaged boy and two very small children. But whatever.

Suddenly, a panicked scream filled the air. It was Trunks' voice.

"GOTEN'S TALKIN' TO A STRANGER! GOTEN'S TALKIN' TO A STRANGER!"

Gohan's heart leapt into his throat; he spun away from the counter, leaving the money and everything there in his mad dash to find his brother. He followed Trunks' yells, and found Goten.

Goten was standing there, talking very cheerfully, to four people sitting at a table.

Four fully-uniformed State Troopers.

All of whom were listening with mildly amused expressions on their faces.

"Goten!" Gohan admonished, picking the chibi up in midsentence. Then he turned to the law enforcement officers and smiled sheepishly. "I'm really sorry about that."

Then Trunks appeared at Gohan's side, and one of the officers laughed. "Well, at least one of them's got the message."

AN: Revelation: I was an IDIOT when I was a child ^_^ Guess some things never change, ne? Thanks for reading, double thanks to any who review, and never trust a man who keeps a handkerchief in his loincloth!