Author's Note: Yeah, I'm so incredibly effing rusty. This endeavor should prove to be QUITE the comedy. Whoever's reading, I hope you enjoy. There will be future chapters. It just may take a bit in between work, class, and spurts of inspiration. Speaking of inspiration, right now the title and chapter titles come from the song "Cassius" by Foals. It's just what I was listening to when I wrote this and they make for neat titles. :P
I have to say I don't know where the sudden burst of creativity came from. I just sat down today and decided to write a Bra/Goten fanfic. Go figure, right? They say if you love something, set it free, and if it was meant to be, it'll come back to you. Does that go for fandom too? ...Or is that just creepy? ... Right, so, only warning is that I throw around the "F" bomb alot, because it makes my characters feel like badasses. Now that the world isn't in peril, what ELSE are they gonna do?
These Daydreams, Okay
Chapter 1: Away!
It was unquestionable that the beginning of summer was upon the Satan City dwellers, the sun keeping its place high in the sky for hours on end. Life and laughter was brimming in the city, spilling into the streets and shops and bursting out of the homes. The brilliant warmth radiated down on the grounds of the Capsule Corp. headquarters, as fierce grunts and hollers sounded from within the protective walls surrounding, and sparks of light and low blasts lit up and shook the earth simultaneously. Streaks of black and lavender darted several feet above the grounds, jetting over the rooftop of the establishment, until finally the black stream jolted to a halt against a towering palm.
Son Goten's zooming body collided into the trunk, and his face screwed up in agony. "Fuck, man!" He groaned aloud, allowing his body to slowly slide down to the base. "A fucking tree, dude?"
Trunks' laughter echoed off the exterior of the dome-shaped building as he lowered himself to the ground. He pushed his lavender hair from his sweaty forehead and offered an apologetic smirk and a hand to his befallen friend. "Sorry, man, but do I look like the gardener? And it's not like I'm going to aim for my mom's house or my dad's grav machine."
"See," Goten grunted as Trunks helped him to his feet, "this is why I prefer the boonies, man. No … infrastructural issues." A wary glance was cast over his shoulder to the gravitational machine and again to the Briefs' home.
"Still trees. And, well, can't stray far from home these days," Trunks sighed, and he made his way for one of the loungers placed out on the patio. He collapsed down onto it, taking the towel draped across it and laying it over his shoulders.
The disheartened sentiment was sympathized with on Goten's part, as he plopped down across from his long-time friend and offered him a bottle of water from the patio table. "That's what you get for being a big-shot now, business man," he joked in an attempt to alleviate the mood. Trunks was not a fan of Goten's humor, and he merely cast a silent look his comrade's way.
Over the last couple of years, Trunks had become immersed in the family business; grooming to become the next proper heir to the Capsule Corporation. Trunks was really, truly a 'business man', having spent a majority of those years engaged in seminars and conferences and meetings, decked out in suits, ties, and fine Italian leather shoes. Meanwhile, Goten had been living a life of leisure on the outskirts of Satan City, his grandfather's dwindling fortune and offerings from his brother keeping his bills paid and his mother keeping food on his plate and clothes on his back. Short-lived jobs in waiting, customer service, and a brief (yet amusing) stint in telemarketing cropped up every now and then, but in the end he had managed to fuck all of them up somehow.
Goten reflected on these facts, and he and Trunks' diminished time together as of late, and a sinking feeling pulled his stomach down.
Here I am, simultaneously missing my best friend and writhing in envy of him. Kudos, he thought darkly to himself.
"You know I didn't mean it bad, dude," Goten groaned now, the back of his hand rubbing at his eyes. "Besides, my mom wishes I could be half as 'motivated' and 'successful' as you."
Trunks fell back on the lounger, stretching his arms up above his head. "Great, I'd love to feel bad for you, now. My mom's told you and I've told you, Goten, you can work for—"
"Not. Happening," Goten's reply came cut and dry. The offer had been laid out on the table on numerous occasions, and yet Goten entertained no notion of accepting it. He knew that it would not play out in anyone's best interest. "Business and friendship are like weed and drink, my friend," he advised sagely with a tip of his water bottle toward Trunks. "Do not mix."
Trunks shrugged, miming the toast with his own bottle before he guzzled down half of it. The clicking of heels nearby drew both men's interest. "Hey, mom."
Bulma smiled down at both boys, her hands on her hips. "Boys," she greeted. "Goten, it's so good to see you. You got something to eat, right?"
Goten's hand patted at his abs firmly, and he flashed a grin up at Bulma. "Yes, ma'am!"
There was a flicker of amusement behind Bulma's blue eyes, before she redirected her attention to her son. Hospitality aside, she began sternly, "Trunks, I need you showered and dressed in half an hour, alright? Your sister's due at the airport and-"
Annoyance was rife in Trunks' following groan. Exasperated, he pulled the towel from his shoulders, folding it over his eyes. "Mom, she can get a rental, right?"
"…Are you serious?"
Bulma ferociously ripped the towel away from her son, twisting it up and cracking it down repeatedly on him as he jumped up from the lounger. "THAT. IS. YOUR. SISTER!" She enunciated every word with each crack! as she chased Trunks up to the sliding back doors. "I will NOT go pick her up by myself!"
Trunks raised his arms to defend himself from his mother's offense. "What!? Dad's going too, right!?"
As if it sparked her fury, the towel came down this time with even more force, and Trunks howled. Goten just could not contain his guffawing laughter.
"Oh, because THAT would be such a nice car ride?!"
"Fine, fine!" Trunks bowed to his mother, his hands held up in submission. "I'll go, but—God, can Goten come, at least?"
Bulma considered this, casting a look over to the Son boy who was doubled up in laughter. With a smirk, she rolled her eyes, cracking the towel one final time against her son's lower leg. Trunks recoiled from his mother as she tossed the towel back into his hands.
"Half an hour. Both of you."
Goten watched the dark eyes in the rearview mirror. They were locked on him, and he just couldn't break his stare away.
Thick eyebrows twitched and angled eyes finally narrowed into slits.
"Why is he fucking here?"
"Shut up," Bulma scolded Vegeta sharply. "And just drive."
Goten blushed and glanced out the window and up at the sky. He could see a plane descending, and his mind wandered to Bra. He wondered how America had treated her. He racked his brain trying to remember why she even went overseas at all.
College, right? He mused as he squinted up at another plane—
Wait, no, that's a cloud.
He dropped his chin into his palm and muffled a yawn with his fingers.
To Goten's relief, the airport was packed with more people going than there were people coming. He surveyed the crowd, particularly the short-shorts wearing, cleavage-bearing demographic. Appearing to share a mind-link function, Trunks snickered and nudged his friend in the bicep, gesturing to a blonde with a nice set of t—
"Trunks," Bulma came into view, and both boys visibly deflated. "Your father's freaking out. Go check the time of arrival over there."
"Mom, she said 6:00, right?" Trunks sighed. "Just tell dad to—" Bulma's stare said it all, and Trunks reluctantly turned to head into the other room. "I'm going to go get a coffee from the gift shop. Yell when she pops up, okay?"
The boys exchanged fist-bumps, and Goten's wandering eye fell upon the aforementioned blonde. It was hard for him to make comparisons these days, as it had been a while since he had much to go on. Goten reminisced about his younger, carefree ass-getting days with a sad smile, his head canting as he appreciated the way the blonde leaned to the left.
Shrill cries behind him sent him spinning, though instead of an ensuing battle, he was met with the Briefs family's reunion. Caught up under Bulma's arm was what he figured to be Bra, and Goten let himself stand back to observe a rare, sweet encounter of the family. The younger girl's face remained obscured as Vegeta all but yanked his daughter from Bulma's grasp, and Bra's arms came to encircle her father's neck. She buried her face into his shoulder, and Vegeta physically lifted her from the ground as she shrieked in delight, her legs kicking out behind her.
Goten could hear her yelps of 'daddy' and, with a pang in his heart, he all but welcomed the distraction from Trunks as he approached him from the side.
"Ready to go meet and greet?" Goten wondered of his best friend with an attempt at a smirk. Trunks nodded firmly and lifted his Styrofoam cup in salute to his sister, who finally withdrew from the cocoon of her parents' arms.
Goten couldn't hide his surprise as the bolt of aquamarine headed toward the duo. She had been a continent or two away, sure, but he had never known the Briefs family to be this close. He glanced back at Vegeta and Bulma, the pair seemingly unaware of any presence aside from their children. He shivered at Vegeta's half-smile, at the tears welling up in Bulma's eyes, and even more at Trunks' firm embrace of his sister.
Bra's face finally peeked up as she rested her chin on her brother's shoulder, her eyes shut tightly. Goten scrutinized her face, unable to discern if it was pain from the force with which Trunks was holding her, or if it was longing and intense joy that gripped the girl. He tried to muster up a smile as he stepped away from the scene a couple of paces, feeling suddenly too awkward to be a member of this reunion.
"Alright, moment's been had," Trunks tried to chuckle it off, the siblings separating.
Bra laughed as she departed from her brother's arms, and she shoved playfully at him. "You big girl," she teased with a sniffle and a tearful giggle. "Too much of a manly man for hugs and kisses, hmm?"
The mass of black in her peripheral suddenly caught her attention, and Bra leaned back to get a good look up at the odd man out. "Goten."
The family accepted the lone Son member into their world again – much to Vegeta's disappointment - and Goten felt even more overwhelmingly out of place. Sheepishly, he itched at the back of his skull, his other hand waving half-heartedly. "Heyyy…. Welcome home!"
Perhaps caught up in the familial warmth, or the excitement of being home, or maybe even out of pity, Bra leaned in to hug Goten as well, and he reciprocated. It was initially a stiff embrace, as Goten became awkwardly aware of her family members' gazes. But as he felt her fists clench upon his back, he softened, offering well-intentioned pats to the back of her shoulders.
"So," Goten pulled away first and tried not to shudder in embarrassment. "Bra! You got any luggage we can help with?"
As if on cue, the girl nodded and pivoted on her heel, and her hands came together to make a finger-gun that directed toward a single conveyor belt. "Yeah, they'll all be coming out there."
"All?" Their party echoed one another, and Bra rolled her eyes exasperatedly to the airport ceiling.
"What? I was in America for five months! I did some shopping!" She shouted defensively, particularly in retort to Trunks' disgusted stare. "So sue me," she then mumbled, arms folded across her chest. Upon noticing her brother's lingering gaze, she snarled and lifted her nose into the air. She began to make her way past he and Goten, who tried his hardest not to snicker as she strut by. "Whatever, I'm going to the bathroom. I couldn't pee on the plane, it was gross."
"We're all glad you're back, sweetheart, but… why am I in the back seat?"
Everyone turned to glance back at Bulma, who was unfortunately smushed between the muscular forms of her son and his friend. Bra was to be found in the passenger seat, a teasing smile on her face.
"When we stop again, mama, you can sit up here," her daughter allowed, as though it were an offer of the utmost generosity. Bulma simply rolled her eyes and grumbled under her breath. "Besides, I'm kinda getting hungry. Daddy, can we stop at the rest station and get some snacks?"
Within seconds, the mix found themselves perusing the shelves of a slummier rest station. As Goten popped the plastic top on to his 24 oz. slushy, he took a step back to once again observe the Briefs clan. Trunks was fighting with the Coke machine in the corner, and Bulma and Vegeta were quietly bickering on the pros and cons of sharing their beef jerky. It was then that the returning princess received his full attention.
He had to hand it to America – they definitely were the land of plenty. As innocently as he possibly could, he allowed his eyes to travel the length of Bra's now very much woman-shaped form. She had apparently blossomed overseas, and he wondered what it was that triggered her growth.
Whatever it is, they should get a patent.
It was like a sixth sense. Bra lifted her head to look over her shoulder, catching Goten's trailing stare. Caught in the act of what simpler folk may consider 'ogling' (he would do no such thing!) he attempted to play it off, instead sending his gaze sailing across other parts of the store and out the window, as though he were simply surveying the landscape. He glanced back in time to notice her wrinkled nose as she turned back to study the ingredients listing on some overpriced junk food.
An hour or so and a few dozen Hostess cupcakes later, the pack had made their way back into the innermost heart of Satan City. Add a couple hours more, and Bra's luggage had safely made its way into the interior of the Briefs home, her many packages and bags stacked neatly in a barricade near the front door. Goten and Trunks leant against the bottom stairs as Bra sprinted past them into her home. She inhaled deeply before swan diving onto the couch. The cool leather felt so calming against her cheek, her body having overheated in the moment of exhilaration from returning home. Bra snuggled closer into the cushions, the shifting weight beside her causing her to drift to the right and into her mother's side.
"You want to go upstairs and unpack or do it tomorrow, dear?" Bulma wondered as her hand glided tenderly through her daughter's long, aqua mane. Bra maneuvered her way back against her mother, all but snuggling as she muttered her protest into the couch. She felt her father's ki pass by her, and Bra tilted her head up to blow a kiss to his retreating form. "Tomorrow," she then replied, twisting to face her mother, her back to Trunks and Goten now. "I just wanna sleep for, oh, a thousand years? That trip is murder, mom. Fortuitous for business or not," she yawned into her palm, her back arching over the arm of the couch. Bra sprawled backward, her torso dangling upside-down as she faced her brother and his companion.
The hypnotizing sway of her hair and the position - Yep, time to go! - pulled Goten to his feet. "I'm gonna head out, dude," his hand jutted out to Trunks' face, and the lavender haired man leapt up as well, taking his fist with a firm shake. Goten turned to face the two women of the household and offered a two-fingered salute to them.
"Bulma, thanks for the food earlier. Bra," he let his attention drift down … down …. …. To her face. "I'm, y'know, glad you're back. Stop by sometime, yeah?"
Still stretched back, Bra raised a peace sign Goten's way. Her gaze slipped up to his face, and she smiled winningly with a wink. "YOU stop by sometime."
With a harsh laugh - almost too forced, dumbfuck - Goten headed out of the Briefs home, considering the members of his second family in an entirely different light.