Inspired by 'A night's consequences' - Kisakun

I cannot stop myself from reading that story

Disclaimer: I do not own db/dbz/dgt

Chapter 1


She didn't want to go in the lab and disturb him, but this request came from the world leader himself. She knew how irritated Dr Son would be, he hated these so called 'special cases'. He believed in the waiting list, he believed that everyone was equal, and no matter your perceived status, to him, you were just another patient. He never budged; he never bent the rules, and in the two years that he'd worked for him, he had never made an exception.

Sighing, she placed her thumb against the fingerprint-reader. The light sensors illuminated and captured all the little ridges of her finger and compared the inverted image to the one on file. Gaining a match, the light on the security door turned from red to green.

"Welcome Ms Sims" a computerized voice announced, just as the heavy door made a loud click, allowing her to enter the lab. She knew the routine like the back of her hand. She stepped on the red illuminated circle and closed her eyes as a white mist descended from the ceiling, spraying gently over her.

"Decontamination complete" the computer announced, the red circle beneath her feet disappearing.

"I'm at the back" the familiar voice of Dr Son called out to her. She sighed, knowing she had no choice. She didn't really like going back there, all those organs, it was enough to put her off her meals for days. She had worked her ass off to be in this position, working at the prestigious Son Regenerative Institute as Dr Son's personal assistant. She had truly believed that regenerative medicine was her calling, but now…

She tried to ignore all the human organs growing in the clear fluid, that seemed to be staring at her from their dishes. Hearts, lungs, kidneys, muscle tissue…you name it. Dr Son had succeeded where many regenerative medical researchers had been stumbling on for years. He was the youngest PHD in the world, and his accomplishments were…astounding.

He was bending over one of the skin dishes, skin re-growth in particular creeped her out more than the internal organs. The doctor had thick microscopic lenses attached to his glasses, his gloved hand caressing his chin contemplatively.

"I apologize in advance Dr Son" she began

Gohan sighed, how many times had he insisted that she call him by his first name, all these formalities, they really made him feel…old. He straightened up, and unclipped the scopic lenses from his frame.

"New patient?" he asked her, taking note of the print out she held in her palm.

"A special case sir, a direct request from the world leader" she told him.

Gohan sighed, pulling down his glasses and rubbing the ridges of his nose. In how many languages would it take, for all these so called important people to get it, he didn't make exceptions, everyone was equal, everyone had as much right to live as the next person. They were doing the best they could to expand their facilities but they could only accommodate so many organs, there was a waiting list, and his conscious would not allow him to skip a waiting patient in favour of one deemed to be more 'important', he simply wasn't raised that way.

He took the print out anyway, in these circumstances, the parties pushing for the exception would never accept an answer from his assistant. They always wanted to deal with him personally, imploring him by whatever means necessary. From threats to bribery, when it came to saving the lives of their loved ones, people would stoop to any level. He understood, and never took it personally, but over the years, against his nature, he had had to grow a thicker skin. Saying no, was not as hard as it had been that very first time.

Pushing his glasses back up, he glanced at the print out dispassionately. Even a teaser gun administered directly to his ass couldn't have shocked him as much as the name of this 'special' patient.

He felt it then, that old familiar jolt in his heart. His mouth went completely dry, his stomach muscles tightened in synch with his grip on the flimsy paper he was holding.

It was as if time itself had stopped.

The lab was always noisy; the heavy machinery that kept the organs alive had this particular humming sound that they emitted. Regardless of that, he was still able to hear the furious beating of his own heart at the sight of the name.

Videl Satan

The words were out of his mouth before his brain had even finished processing them.

"We need tissue samples from the patient NOW!" he practically barked, shocking Ms Sims, who had never heard him raise his voice.

"Y-you're…t-taking the case?" she stammered incredulously

"Talk to Gov, he needs to create room in the housing wing for the patient" he said urgently, completely disregarding her question

Ms Sims face contorted in shock. He couldn't possibly be serious!

"W-we're housing the patient? Here? B-but the wing is f-full!" she reminded him

"I said NOW Ms Sims!" he shouted impatiently, storming off to go 'clear' a dish.

Ms Sims had never been more shocked in her life. Dr Son had never, ever raised his voice in the two years that she'd been working for him. He never panicked, he never showed much emotion, with the exception of excitement at the successful completion of an organ, or embarrassment when some of the female staff tried to flirt with him.

She knew Videl Satan was famous, maybe as famous as her father, but fame or fortune had never moved him before. Why now? What had gotten into him?

Turning around, she fled out of the lab to her own office to go make the necessary calls.

Earlier that day…

Videl was pissed. She was more than pissed actually; she was furious! She was the most capable agent they had, she knew that, they knew that, but oh no…her meddlesome father had made a call, and just like that! She had been pulled out of the mission.

Damn him!

With both arms she pushed hard at the twin doors and stormed into the Directors office.

"Let me call you later" he said calmly into the phone, at the sight of the pissed off Ms Satan.

"Videl, what can I…." he began

"Don't give me that bullshit, you know why I'm here!" she fumed

"I have no idea wh…" he began formulating a lie


Videl slammed her fists on his large mahogany desk, making a few visible cracks in the finish.

"Don't even try to bullshit me okay, just…don't…" she said, reaching into her pocket.

The Director looked at the cracked desk and gulped, he was an old man now, he really didn't want Videl taking out her frustrations on him!

Videl slammed her badge on the table, sliding it with impressive force towards the Director

"You can kiss my ass, you spineless son of a bitch, I quit!" she said, storming out

"Videl wait!" he called after her, trying to rise from his desk, but his arthritis was just too damn painful.

"Ah fuck" he cursed, reaching for the telephone

Videl stormed out of the TB headquarters in a fit of rage. It was still early, the air outside slightly chilly. She pulled up her scarf to cover the base of her face as she hailed for a cab.

"Palak Hotel please" she instructed the driver, as she settled back on the not so comfortable seat.

It was pointless, pointless! Anytime there was an interesting mission, like this trip to Sage Island, to take down the forces of their corrupt dictator, her father always got wind of it. In a panic, not wanting his 'baby girl' to participate in something so dangerous, he would call in one of the million favours the Director of the Tactical Bureau seemed to owe him.

This was the fifth mission she was pulled out off in three months, and all because she had gotten shot in her last station in the Serame Mountains. TB had been sent there on a peace keeping mission, strickly no sides, but things had spiraled out of control when one of their own men had allegedly taken liberties with a civilian's wife. She had taken a bullet for an innocent bystander when the masses had turned on the peace keepers. It was just a flesh wound, thankfully, but her father had freaked completely, pulling this kind of shit all the time.

She was a grown woman for Kami's sake!

She didn't want a desk-job; she didn't want to be stuck in the office pushing paper. She was a fighter, a warrior, that's who she was, that's what she enjoyed, and if this job at the TB didn't take her out to where the action was; then shove it!

Maybe she'd go back to helping out the Satan police while she mulled over her next Agency, she wasn't exactly without offers.

"Palak Hotel" the cab driver announced, pulling up to the lavish entrance.

Videl pulled out a hundred zeni note and carelessly passed it on to the driver as her door was opened for her.

"Welcome Ms Satan" the door-man greeted politely

Videl grunted and pushed her way inside.

Once inside her penthouse suite, which took up the entirety of the top floor; Videl unwrapped and tossed her scarf to the nearest couch as she kicked off her boots. Her mood soured even more when she saw her light luggage.

'All packed and nowhere to go. I should be on that flight, half way to Sage Island by now' she thought bitterly, making her way to the cabinet to pour herself a drink.

Twirling her glass in her hand, she couldn't help but stare at the face of the man on the cover of the very old and worn edition of 'Medicine Today'. She knew it was unhealthy, but she couldn't help it, she couldn't stop herself from hanging on to any and every piece of literature she found on him. She could only be grateful that she was afforded the luxury of stalking him from afar, unlike in highschool.

'High school' she reflected, a bittersweet smile gracing her lips.

"Do you…like short hair on girls Gohan?" she had dared to hope

She should have known that her obsession with finding him out was more than a deep routed need to uncover the identity of Saiyaman. Or, for that matter, her desire to defy gravity and learn how to fly. How often did she practice that particular skill nowadays? Hardly ever, she regretted.

Sighing, she turned the magazine over, hiding his handsome face. Gohan, no Dr Son as he was known now, was just a distant memory, no matter how creative her fantasies had become.

Running her fingers through her hair, she sighed in frustration. She might as well put in a few hours of intensive exercise. She abandoned her drink and walked to her bedroom to change. She wiggled out of her corduroy pants and tossed her shirt carelessly on the bed.

Opening her cupboard, she didn't even get a chance to gasp out in shock. Her eyes were only starting to widen when the bullet hit her at point blank range in her chest. She dropped to the floor before her hand could reach the entry point.

"You weren't supposed to be here" the man hiding in the cupboard whispered regretfully.