DISCLAIMER: Well, I guess you can tell that I don't own DBZ. Somehow or someway . . .

Alien Patrol

"Welcome to the first Alien Patrol club meeting in two weeks," a shadowy figure said to a room full of . . . well, nerds. "We haven't been able to meet in the past two weeks, because most of our members were out with injuries regarding a slight mishap regarding our last suspect . . ."

"I told you we shouldn't have gone after Videl!" a boy still nursing an injured arm yelled angrily standing up from his seat. He did his best to stare down the leader of the club, but because of his unimposing appearance, did not prove to be very threatening.

"Hey!" the leader retorted angrily. No one interrupted his speeches. "We earned publicity for that stunt! The school paper did an article on us and we gained two members!" In the leader's mind the potential for new members was definitely worth a few fractures or broken arms or legs.

"Who never came! Are they even here right now?" the boy persisted, looking around in fake curiosity.

The leader glared at the member. "Do you want me to tell Videl to break your other arm?" he threatened. The boy's eyes widened and he shook his head quickly, sat down, and stared at an empty corner.

"Any other complaints?" The leader looked around. "No? Okay, on to the next order of business, choosing a new suspect. Any ideas?"

One of the members in the back spoke up, "Well, there have been rumors that Gohan Son posed as the Great Saiyaman during the World Martial Arts Tournament and also turned into the Gold Fighter." Murmurs of agreement emerged in the room. "Even if these rumors aren't true," the nerd continued, " Gohan is still pretty weird."

"You're so right!" another nerd agreed. "Yesterday, I asked Gohan if he wanted to come over and play RPG's with me, and he said his mom was making him study! I mean, I don't even study that much!" Some of the nerds that weren't paying attention looked up at this statement.

"Whoa," someone else said in awe, "and you're like the smartest person at Orange Star!"

"Second smartest," the nerd replied bitterly, "Before Gohan, I was the smartest. No one that smart can be human. He must be an alien!" Much of the club nodded, agreeing with him.

"So it's settled. Our next potential alien suspect is Gohan Son!" the leader yelled, pumping his fist into the air. A few claps and a random cough followed. "Don't get too excited," the leader said dully.

"Hey Gohan!" Erasa said cheerily as she and Sharpener walked up to Gohan and Videl in the hallway. The proximity of Gohan and Videl's lockers (they were alphabetically arranged) made it the ideal meeting spot between classes and afterschool.

"Hey Brains," Sharpener echoed. As he approached, he saw a nerd lurking in the corner. Sharpener turned around suddenly, causing the others to wonder what was going on.

"What's up Sharpener?" Gohan asked.

"Nerds. And lots of them. They travel in packs," Sharpener answered without turning around. A couple nerds who were hiding behind a trashcan suddenly lost their resolve and fled.

Gohan replied angrily, "Hey, if that's some sort of insult, I don't want to hea-"

"Chill out Gohan," Videl interrupted. "They're just a ton of freaks from that Alien Patrol club. They trailed me a couple weeks ago, but you'd think they would learn after I gave four of them black eyes!" Videl finished loudly.

A couple eeps could be heard and a general scurrying of feet followed as the remaining members of Alien Patrol tried to run away from a threat worse than the devil itself, Videl Satan.

"I guess they do remember."

Sharpener started to go after them; he was trained not to let a single nerd escape, especially if he could prevent it. Erasa grabbed his arm and asked, "Sharpener, where are you going?"

He formed a fist in one hand and placed it in the other, simulating a punch. "I think some nerds are asking for an old-fashioned beat-down . . . " Gohan looked at Sharpener with wide eyes.

"Knock yourself out," Videl replied nonchalantly, "and some nerds while your at it." Gohan transferred his gaze to Videl. Was all of that really necessary? Sharpener smirked and left the three, excited about getting back to his favorite sport: Nerd-hunting.

"Sharpener is my ride home, so I have to go. Bye you two!" Erasa said as she left, waving to Gohan and Videl. "Wait for me Sharpener!" Erasa ran off following Sharpener's path.

Gohan looked at Videl with a sideways glance after Erasa left. "So you're saying I shouldn't be worried that I'm being trailed by members of this weird club?"

"What's the worst they can do?" Videl replied. "Find out that you're Saiyaman? That's not exactly front page news, and would just add them to the list of the thousands that saw you at the tournament. Besides all they are really after is aliens, and those guys are so hopeless, they couldn't catch an alien if they were staring one in the face."

Gohan laughed nervously at that comment. "Yeah . . . that's ridiculous. Aliens . . . ," he scoffed and averted his glance away from her.

Videl looked at her friend with a measure of concern and said, "You're acting weird, Gohan. Is there something you want to tell me?"

"Nope," Gohan said entirely too fast. Videl looked at him with a raised eyebrow; Gohan's response had only increased Videl's curiosity.

"Welcome back to the Alien Patrol Club. It's nice to see you guys in good spirits," the leader said, addressing the room.

"Ugh . . . " the rest of the club replied.

"Our last meeting was two days ago. What have we found out since then?"

One nerd stood up holding a clipboard. "I have here everything we know about Gohan Son, thus far."

"Great," the leader responded. "Please, tell us what you have learned." The clipboard-nerd walked to the front of the room to speak to the whole club.

He started, "Gohan Son. Is he just an average teenager like you and me? The information I have gathered suggests otherwise. His age? From the records in the school archive, the boy is seventeen. However, when we questioned him, his answer sounded like he was confused whether he was seventeen or eighteen. I have here a tape recording of his answer."

Clipboard-nerd took out a tape recorder from his pocket. He turned the volume all the way up and pressed play. Gohan's voice was heard, "How old am I? That's a good question. Eighteen." A slight pause took place. "Wait, no. I'm seventeen . . . I think? Okay, final answer, seventeen."

Someone in the back yelled, "HA! He is an alien! He was probably kidnapped from his home planet when he was too young to remember and brought to Earth! That explains why he doesn't know his age!" Several other members came up with their own theories, each one as crazy as the next. The club leader, however, was silent.

He thought about the information and said, "These theories are all interesting, but then again they might all be wrong. We need some more concrete evidence."

Clipboard-nerd was happy to comply, "Well, when first asked where he lived, Gohan told our source that his home was in the 439 East District. Most of us may have thought he was joking, but we checked the records, and discovered he was telling the truth. We all know that the fastest mode of transportation from there to Satan City is the jet copter, which can make the trip in a couple hours. How is it possible that Gohan, who doesn't have a car or a license, can get to his home and back everyday? Hmmmm . . . "

"That's more like it!" the leader exclaimed. "You have any more information?"

"Loads," Clipboard-nerd declared. "But, the best is saved for last. There wasn't much information on the Gold fighter, and since all the cameras at the World Martial Arts Tournament were mysteriously destroyed, there wasn't information about Saiyaman's fight. However, most of us have heard the rumors linking Gohan Son to both of these heroes and I have information regarding Gohan and Saiyaman."

"Gohan is Saiyaman!" someone yelled.

"I'm getting to that, " Clipboard-nerd said, unperturbed. "Most of you may have a class with Gohan. You know, despite his knowledge, he is perpetually late, and even on days he is late, he skips out early for 'bathroom breaks.' However, I propose that whenever Gohan leaves the classroom for more than ten minutes at a time, it is to assist Videl Satan as Saiyaman!" Several cheers rang out following his declaration.

"That's a pretty wild claim," the leader, acting as the voice of reason, replied. "Do you have the facts to back it up?"

"For the most part. A lot of the information we have gathered takes time to interpret, but if Gohan is the Great Saiyaman, then not only does he have super strength, he can fly. That would explain how he commutes from his home to Satan City. And we all know, if he is Saiyaman, the only explanation for these powers is that he is an alien."

"Okay," the club leader said. "You know your duties. I will remind you that someone must be trailing Gohan at all times. Now let's go get us an alien!"

A/N: Before you go and get all offended, just know I have nothing against nerds. Under the definition, I would definitely qualify as one. In this story I'm using the classical definition of nerds, with all of that high school distortion that comes from television and movies. I will definitely have fun with this story. I wanted to try my hand at Gohan-torture, but at the same time keep it pretty original. And voila . . . this story was born. It is going to be short, don't expect more than 5 chapters. Anyways, as always, please review, and hope you enjoyed reading it.