Team Dragon Star bringing you another story, this one created by Gue22. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: TDS does not own DBZ

...

Her fringe was low, too low to be regarded as fashionable. It extended all the way down to the eyelids enclosing her big blue eyes, and when she blinked, like she was now, her long and dark eyelashes brushed against the tips of her snipped locks.

Terminate

She read over the instructions of the new assignment again, trying to keep the surprise from her face. She didn't want her boss to think she was showing emotion, that just wouldn't do. She hated her boss almost as much as she hated her fringe, and she hated that stupid fringe a lot, she hated her whole hairstyle, she hated her face and pretty much hated everything else about herself, but...her life had seized to be about what she liked or loved a long time ago, back when, she was still the loved, the worshipped, the spoilt and the privileged, Videl Satan.

She glanced at the head shot of the target - the blonde boy, with wide expressive eyes, staring back at her from the glossy paper.

Target: Deliver-Boy

Instructions: Terminate

She pushed back the fleeting thoughts about her old life, loves and passions and focused on the here and now. Right now, life was strictly about what was needed, and the slightly longer than fashionable fringe was absolutely necessary to conceal the hideous burn stretching thick and hard on the surface of her forehead.

She reclined back on the soft padding of her chair, her posture straight, her leg over her thigh, tapping her long nails on her boss's large desk.

"Let me get this straight, you're sending me out to terminate a target that played a hand in saving the world, and you're telling me that the reasons are strictly on a need to know basis?" She spoke with her head tilted, so her eyes could see him clearly, from beneath the thin veil of her fringe

"That is correct Agent" her boss told her with an even voice, as he slid a magnified photograph over to her side of the table "...this is a still image from the Cell Games, our face recognition software has been able to positively identify him" he said, tapping his index finger on the enlarged photograph of the warrior with the scars on his face "...he's somewhat of a baseball legend..."

"Yeah, Yamcha the Bandit, I recognise him" she said distastefully

"Good" he said, closing the open folder spread out before him. "...because he's the only definite lead we have, find him" he said, leaning back into the comfort of his leather chair.

"You may use any means necessary to get him to talk, dispose of him after if it pleases you, but, the delivery-boy has to be found, identified and terminated. It's a matter of world security, agent" he finished, glancing at his watch rudely, his signature move to say 'get the fuck out of my office'.

Videl scowled, the lines not quiet reaching her forehead. The skin there had been so severely damaged by the fire on the roof all those years ago, that the scabs had left that area without sensation, and completely cut off from all facial movement.

"Is there a problem Agent Tan?" Her boss eyed her impatiently

"No. I was just leaving" she said, sliding the photograph of the band of warriors into her folder with the rest of the scattered documents, as she rose from her chair. "Good-day, sir" she said in a clipped voice, and made her exit, folder clutched under her arm.

She walked out of the big office, across the corridor and straight into the elevator.

"Agent Tan," the three occupants greeted her by nodding their heads

"Agents," she acknowledged, her eyes staring out of the glass walls of the lift as it made its descent.

As soon as the doors parted, she stepped out, her heels clanking noisily on the tiles.

"So that's the she-man huh?" One of the men commented, highly amused as he watched the sway of her hips in those fitted dress pants

"Yep, that's her," the other one said, as the trio stepped out of the doors more leisurely behind her

"I thought she was supposed to be as ugly as fuck, that ass looked pretty sweet to me." He observed her disappearing form.

"Don't even think about it man, she'll shove your balls down your throat so fast, you'll miss the taste."

"Doubt it. That little thing? What is she, five-one, five-two at most? Hardly the fearsome Jawbreaker everyone's been talking about."

"You say that now, but two seconds in the training ring with her, and you'll be singing a different tune."

"Pft." he scoffed, unconvinced

She pushed past the revolving doors and walked six blocks to a pay phone. She hated pay-phones, but she couldn't use any of her own phones to make this call. She couldn't risk it.

"Sweat-Pea, is that you?" A groggy voice answered

"Don't call me that. I got your message, is something wrong?"

"No. I'm fine, I was just worried, you've been quiet for three months." the champ said lamely

"I was on a job. I've just gotten back, and I'm just about to head off to another assignment."

"Videl, when are you..."

"Don't call me that, Videl Satan is dead." she said tonelessly

"I just..." His voice began to crack with emotion

"Not now, or I'll hang up"

"I just miss my baby girl. I'm all alone here Videl. I..."

Beep. Beep. Beep

She hung up, irritated.

She walked another four blocks, trying to push back the memories of the girl she used to be. Videl Satan - daughter to the world saviour, crime-fighter and heroine of Satan city.

"That's okay chief, I got this." She disregarded the warning, jumping on to the blazing roof from her copter.

Clank clank clank, her heels were the only audible sound as she made her way away from the pay-phone and down the pavement.

"It's gonna be okay, I have a plan" she assured the panicked civilians, as the flames inched closer and closer to where they huddled.

Clank, clank, clank...she kept walking. She hated these calls to her father, he always made her remember that which she desired to forget the most

The fire on that roof

The smoke, the screams...

She shuddered, running a finger lightly across her forehead.

"Help ME!" A woman screamed in agony, the flames licking her skin, the smoke assailing her senses

No. Videl Satan was dead. She was Agent Del Tan, and she was on a mission to hunt down and kill the delivery-boy.

...

"Out of the question" Chichi refused, placing a platter of food on the table

"But mom..." Goten whined

"I said no Goten, besides, Gohan needs the extra help in the mine, don't you sweetie?" She cast her eyes to her oldest as she emptied a pot of dumplings into a serving dish

"Err...I don't mind" he shrugged, breaking some garlic bread "...if Goten wants to take a break and go to high school..."

"Please mom, Trunks already started last year, I don't want to be home schooled like Gohan for the rest of my life, look at him..." His eyes travelled to his big brother

"What about him?" Chichi asked

"No offense Gohan, but..." Goten began

"But what?" Gohan stared up to his brother innocently

"You don't have a life, you don't have friends, and you're just...urgh..." He didn't know what to say, Gohan wouldn't even understand all that he had missed in life. He wouldn't understand the whispers about his social retardedness amongst his employees.

"Son Goten, your brother owns and runs the most successful uranium mine in the world. Under my tutelage, he finished home-schooling and went to the highest ranking university in the world. How dare you look down on him?" Chichi fumed

"I'm not looking down on him mom, I just don't want to end up like him, okay? Is that so bad?"

"Mom, let Goten go to high school. He's earned his place. Besides, he's only thirteen; it's against the law to put him to work in the mines, its fine..." Gohan said, rubbing his temples. The subject of high school would forever be a sore spot for him. He had begged his mother to at least allow him to go for his final year, but she had told him NO!

"One bad grade, and it's over. You understand young man?" She glared at her youngest

"Alright!" Goten jumped up from his chair, almost hugging his mother to death "I'm gonna go call Trunks and let him know" he started to jog to his room before he backtracked "...oops!" He grinned, getting back into his chair "...food first..." He said, before he resumed his inhalation of the assorted dishes

You don't have a life, you don't have friends!

The words rang in Chichi's mind as she sat down on the large table watching her oldest son eat. He still ate a mountain-full, but he was quiet and mannered in his eating, taking the time to wipe his mouth in between dishes.

Did I do him an injustice by keeping him here? Homeschooled his whole life? Never meeting and interacting with kids his own age?

Within a few minutes of sitting down to gobble up his food, Goten was done, rushing to his room to give his best-friend the good news.

"Gohan?" Chichi prompted softly "Are you happy?"

"Huh?" He lifted his face from the ostrich leg he was devouring

"Are you happy?" She asked again

"I'm fine mum; the mine is doing really well. The nuclear plant is doing even better, and I think I'm about to break through to a new level of power, Piccolo thinks so too, so...yeah...I'm fine" he concluded, getting back to his food

Chichi sighed. It was always the same thing with him. Work or training, work or training! Didn't he want to go out and meet people? Have some friends his own age? Meet a nice girl and give her grandbabies?

"You didn't answer my question Gohan" she sighed

Gohan helped himself to more food and pretended not to have heard her. What was he supposed to say? He had done everything she had ever asked of him. He was a success, he was in shape, and unknown to her, he was actually sneaking out at night 'neutralizing' discreet weapons manufacturing plants that were using uranium from his mines.

Yet, when he closed his eyes at night, even he, with all his general worldly inexperience, knew, that there was definitely something missing. No, he couldn't say that he was happy, but...he couldn't exactly say that he was unhappy either, he was just...fine.

...

Yamcha stopped at the entrance for a few minutes to let himself be photographed. It astounded him that he still had fans that would care if his face suddenly showed up in the papers; he had stopped playing baseball a long time ago. Winning a game just felt hollow, especially considering the world-saving accomplishments of the others, from the old days. He sighed, putting on a smile as he struck a pose, like he was about to bat, pity he wasn't in his old gear.

He felt silly doing this, like he felt silly doing most things in his life but, this was not the time to beat himself up. He allowed them a few more clicks, a few more flashes and waved, disappearing into the club.

Yet another party.

It was past two in the morning when he staggered out, he didn't even bother to decapsulize his car, and he just walked and walked, taking in the scenery, allowing the fresh air to sober him up a bit as he continued walking all the way to his apartment.

He supposed he was an old man now, but without a family of his own, he really had no reason to stay in at night. All his friends from the old days had families, damnit even Chaiotzu, and all his friends from his baseball days also had families, well...the ones who hadn't died from an overdose of some sort.

He didn't live as well off as he could have, had he been more careful with his money, so his apartment was nothing special. He turned the key, pushed through the door and barely had a second to react when he suddenly and drunkedly sensed a presence behind the door.

He was passed out before he knew who, or what had knocked him out.

...

Under the cover of night, Gohan checked his watch and pulled up his mask. The thin black fabric stretched from his neck up, over his chin, his mouth, making a tip of a triangle over his nose, leaving the top half of his cheeks, his eyes and forehead exposed. His outfit was the exact replica of the one he had worn from his battle with Cell, minus his white cape.

To be used as the thermal power source in a new nuclear plant my ass, he thought, scowling at the manufacturing plant.

He had strict restrictions when it came to 'who' he sold uranium to, and it was no secret that his mine didn't sell for weapons manufacturing. Yet, a few months back, he had discovered that some of his clients, private companies or governments alike, had falsified their intentions on their purchase contracts. They had in fact, been using 'his' uranium to build nuclear weapons, not power plants that would supply much needed clean energy to many an impoverished area.

As far as he was concerned, it was simple - weapons meant the lives of millions of innocents in senseless wars across the globe, and that...just wouldn't do.

One by one, across the globe, the manufacturing plants were disappearing, leaving only a mark burned into the ground 'DB' so they would know that it was him, the delivery-boy, delivering one more message to the world - and tonight he was at it again.

He sprung from his hiding place and levitated into the air, his golden glow of power burning bright and hot, crackling with bolts of intensity, illuminating the night around him. He made a quick sweep with his senses, just to confirm that the plant was empty.

Six distinct kis within the perimeter, he scowled, probably security, he concluded, as he picked them out, one by one, and got to work.

...

Yamcha coughed and sputtered as the water went through his nose and mouth travelling all the way down to his lungs. His eyes flew open as his body instinctively jerked upwards, the water he was immersed in lapping at his cornea. The last thing he remembered was coming home from the club, turning the key to his apartment, the weird presence behind his door...

What the fuck?

He blinked rapidly and hauled his head from underneath the water, spitting and coughing up the water that had gone down the wrong pipe.

The first thing he saw was smoke, three perfectly formed bubbles of it, floating leisurely away from a red pair of lips. He couldn't see her face clearly, her dark hair was thick, held up by a long and thick chop-stick like hair-pin at the top of her head, the sides falling into her face, cut into a weird style that just seemed to narrow into her side-profile, her slightly longer than expected fringe covering the rest, making it impossible for him to distinguish her features clearly.

The second thing he noticed was her calm demeanor, she was sitting on one of his dining room chairs, one she had clearly dragged to his bathroom, without a care in the world, her legs crossed, puffing away, patiently waiting for him to wake up.

The third thing he noticed was that he was bound, in hand-cuffs, his hands crossed behind him, his ankles side by side, where he lay immersed in water in his own tub, the water level up to his chin, with his head just barely, just barely able to keep afloat.

Great, he thought, just great

He took a few deep and calming breathes, now that he had rid himself of all the water in his lungs, and focused on her

"Hello Bandit" she said casually, blowing out another circular bubble of smoke, as if she was greeting an old friend, not a captive whose house she had broken into, snuck up on, tied-up, and just about drowned

Videl watched him intently, slightly surprised by his obvious lack of panic. Most people would usually be trembling by now, coming to, to find themselves about to be drowned. She flicked the back of her cigarette with her thumb, the ash dropping to the floor

"Who the fuck are you?" He asked, his brain making a hundred calculations. Could she be a jilted lover? A crazed fan? A combination of both? He couldn't be sure

"Save your breath hot-shot. You're gonna need it" was all she said, before he suddenly felt the rather sudden and rapid influx of water in his nose and mouth, burning a passage right through to his lungs, as his head was without ceremony dunked under the water.

"Glur...ghrk" he sputtered, heaving as he pulled himself out, damn she's fast, he marveled, slightly impressed, blinking rapidly to rid his eyes of the sting of the water

"The Cell Games, twelve years ago, you were there..." She told him, producing an enlarged photograph of him and the old gang "This" she said, tapping her finger on the face of the only child, amongst the warriors "...the delivery-boy, I need a name" she said, allowing the photograph to drop into the water, as she returned to her chair to finish inhaling her cigarette

This whole thing is about Gohan? He thought, a bit relieved that it had nothing to do with his less than blemish free past

"Like I said lady, who the fuck are you?" He tested out his cuffs, even as he began to fuel some energy into his bound hands.

Videl was slightly irritated by this guy's nonchalant attitude, she had hoped that she wouldn't have to rough him up, he was one of the few who had shown up to face the menace that was Cell all those years ago, and for that, she respected him. Despite his reputation after his failed relationship with that beautiful heiress that she despised.

Oh well...

Her fist was sailing towards him in an instant, on pure instinct, despite being rusty, he blocked with his forearm, the action causing him to break the cuffs clean in the middle.

Videl widened her eyes, surprised when she saw the dangling twin chains where the cuffs had previously been joined together. She quickly moved to dunk his head back into the water with her free hand, but the washed up baseball player caught that one as well.

"I usually like to get a name first, before things get...you know... kinky" he smirked at her

Videl saw red, she hated almost everything in general, but she hated sexual innuendos even more than her hair. In a flash, she jumped into the air and propelled her feet forward, both of them landing on his chest with a loud splash. Her black heels began digging into his torso as her feet and legs sank into the water with him, catching him off guard, his head slipping back underwater.

Her wrists still in his hands, she tried to yank herself off, but his grip was firm, his face set into a scowl as his eyes slanted down to the bit of red floating and staining the bath water from where her heels had punctured little holes in him through his shirt.

She quickly abandoned the balancing act she was performing on top of him, and dug her heels out of his flesh as she extended her legs perpendicularly, wrapping them around his neck, yanking him towards her. Yamcha's face found itself planted between her thighs, and he was just thinking that this was not the worst place to end up, when she started squeezing his face in, with her thigh muscles.

Damnit I can't breathe, he thought, releasing her hands from his hold, using them instead to pry her thighs open. That was all the time Videl needed.

She reached into the back of her head and pulled out the long-hair pin holding up her locks, and bit off the tip with her teeth, spitting to the side, as to not swallow the contents.

And just as Yamcha managed to force her thighs apart, raising his head to take a breath of the much needed air, something stung him at the base of his neck, the liquid contained in the pin, seeping into his system.

"Ouch!" He yelped, pulling his arm back to touch the spot, and the force of her knuckles crashed against his face, twice, and he found himself spitting blood.

Clever little minx, he thought, blocking the next assault, getting a bit tired of this little scuffle, she was talented and clever, but...sadly for her, nowhere near close to his league, even after all the years of slacking off.

In a blink of an eye, Videl was sent crashing into the wall, skidding down to the floor. Yamcha jumped out of the water, creating a splash against the tiles and landed a bit unsteadily on his feet, his shoes squeaking noisily. He moved sloppily into a fighting stance, blinking rapidly when he realized that he was starting to feel a bit woozy.

What the fuck?

"Enough lady" he said, watching her get back to her feet "Your pretty good, might even make a decent warrior with the correct training, but... you're still no match for me" he smiled at her lazily as she set her perky lips into a straight line. "...so cut it out already, and tell me what you want with my friend. I've never been one to hit a pretty girl" he let his eyes drop to her chest

"Then this is your lucky day" she moved into her fighting stance as well, her wet clothes clinging to her every curve, making the outline of her bra visible through her shirt "...lucky day indeed, since...I'm anything but...pretty...hiiiiiiyaaah!" she charged him

Yamcha ducked and dodged, surprised at the heavy feeling in his limbs, the sting from where she had jabbed him with her hair-pin, throbbing. She kept attacking him with a flurry of punches and kicks, and with each punch, each dodge, each kick and each block, he kept feeling heavier and heavier, his eyes droopy, until finally, his knees sagged, he couldn't move one more muscle, he was done, and he didn't understand it.

"It's called evolution dumb ass" she said, when she saw the shock and confusion on his face, as his body refused to obey his commands any further "...if your opponent is stronger than you..." She circled him, her voice raspy "...faster than you..." She reached behind her back and pulled out a knife from the back of her pants "... You just gotta outsmart him..." She smirked, giving him a push, watching triumphantly as his body flopped to the floor

What the fuck? He panicked, when he couldn't move. Whatever she had stabbed into him, had run it's course, he was temporarily paralyzed

She crouched down to knee level and placed the tip of the knife against his neck.

"Call him" she said, her head tilted at an angle so her eyes could meet his "...call him or die..." She said calmly

Yamcha gulped, he still couldn't move and the tip of the knife was beginning to pierce his skin, aiming directly for his pulsing vein, and with each passing second, she inched it further and deeper into his skin

"Call him" she repeated, changing hands, as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a box of cigarettes, the other hand still holding the knife steadily against his throat.

"Shit" she swore, when she realized just how soggy the box was. She pushed the knife deeper, the blood oozing slowly down the blade "...you made me wet my cigarettes..."

"If you really wanted to kill me, I'm guessing you would have done it already. I guess it's true, pretty girls are really just good for one thing" Yamcha said, smiling as he appraised her figure with his eyes, about the only part of him, he could still move

The vein in Videl's temple was pulsing violently, this-ass hole is really pushing it, maybe I should just slit his throat, and wait for the delivery-boy to show up at his funeral. Then I won't have to go through the arduous task of torturing him.

She continued to push the blade into the bandit's neck, until it was millimetres from the artery, she could feel his heartbeat quickening through the handle of the blade.

"Oh yeah" she leaned into him "...and what would that be exactly? All pretty girls are to be used and then discarded to the side by the likes of you? You make me sick" she spat at him

"Say whatever you like lady, but in my experience, it's pretty girls like you, with big blue eyes, eyes that could make a man walk into the jaws of death itself that do the using and discarding, after TEN FUCKING YEARS. You try being tossed aside like garbage, for someone stronger and then come and spit your nonsense in my face." He said bitterly "I make you sick? Well, you can take your knife and kiss my ass lady, cause all you women make me equally as sick"

"So...this knife doesn't scare you hah?" She paused, staring at his fearless face, before she raised her foot into the air "...maybe this will then," she said, her voice laced with venom as she brought down her stilettos down between his legs, right in the balls.

Yamcha's howl of pain roared through his entire apartment building, it was like music to her ears, but it was the sound of the man's sobbing that made her take pause.

The place was ablaze with giant flames and frenzied panic, women and children scurried in all directions, some jumping unsuccessfully out of the windows, trying desperately to escape their cruel fate. Cries rang out throughout the air as the sickly hiss of crackling flames tore through everything in sight, flesh included...

Coming back to the present, Videl realised that this was different, this man was being stubborn, bringing the pain upon himself, those people hadn't. Raising her foot again Videl continued to rain down pain onto Yamcha's genitalia. She was about to do it again, when Yamcha suddenly had a change of heart

"Stop. Stop" his voice trembled "I'll call him, I'll call him" he relented

"Now that wasn't so difficult was it?" Videl said, with a smug smile on her face.

In a second she had brought the phone to him.

Yamcha's heartbeat quickened when no one picked up on the other end, with each passing second, and each subsequent ring, Yamcha broke into a sweat. He knew it was late but come on; his crown jewels were at stake here.

"Erm, yeah it's me" he began to leave a message after the beep, hoping against all hope that it would placate the psycho woman he had the misfortune of being with "...listen if you get this, please can you come over, it's kind of urgent, it's something concerning Cell" his voice sounded pained, even to his own ears.

"Blondie's still asleep hah? Aww, well looks like you're going to have to put up with me for a while longer." She smiled at him, "...until then I have some fun games for us to play" she concluded with a devilish grin.

Yamcha's face dropped, a look of fear in his eyes not seen since the fight against Gero.

Gohan please help.

...

Gohan deposited the knocked out guards a long distance away from the site. He wanted to destroy every last particle of this particular company, and he wanted the guards to be as far away from the blast as possible. Not only were they in breach of their contract about the weapons, but they had been running radiation exposure experiments on human subjects, trying to quantify how much a human body could withstand exposure before death.

Why are people so intent on harming one another? Did they not learn that we must unite to face foes like Cell? Nothing can be gained from fighting amongst ourselves.

He made his way to the main reactor, delighted to get started, now that the entire area was deserted.

Charging the crackling bolt of orange ki in his hand to dangerous levels, Gohan targeted the reactor and launched his attack.

...

He floated in the air admiring his handy-work, not a spec was left. He had incinerated everything, down to the very last particle. A huge DB was ki- etched into the ground, right where he had just placed the cowering guards. It was beautifully done, he was really starting to get a handle of this ki-calligraphy

"Tell your bosses to tell their bosses and their governments, that the delivery-boy's message is simple - stop building these weapons, or find yourselves bankrupt, for I will burn them all to the ground," he recited the new version of his speech, before he took off into the air and sped home.

That was pretty cool, he congratulated himself. He had practiced that particular version many times in the mirror, and he was pretty satisfied with how it had come out.

Whatever Goten, he thought happily, dismissively, making unnecessary zips and zaps in the air, twisting and turning himself any which way, I don't need to socialize with guys my own age to have fun. Look at me Go!

...

He let himself in through his window, his boots touching his bedroom floor lightly. It was very late he observed, and he had an array of boring meetings lined up in just a few hours. He undressed, placing his DB outfit in his laundry basket and went downstairs to his kitchen to fix himself a snack.

It was a clear night, the air warm and humid, so he took a stack of reports, grabbed his phone and sat outside the terrace overlooking his mom's house, and ate.

Ten new messages, he noticed the flash on his phone. This was his personal number, very few people had it. Immediately he thought of Goten. Had he snuck out at night with Trunks and gotten into trouble?

He quickly dialled the number for his voicemail and listened.

They were all from Yamcha, all fifteen minutes apart, and each consecutive message seemed to be increasing in panic. Well, all but the last one...

"Look, if this is really the delivery-boy's number, then you have until sun-up to get your ass to your friend Yamcha's apartment, otherwise, his ability to father children may very well be permanently disabled. Hurry, he's losing a lot of blood" was the last message he heard, the voice was calm, almost amused, but definitely a girl's.

He hurried to the bathroom and threw on his outfit before tearing through the air

Hold on Yamcha, I'm on my way...

...

What's in store for our favourite hybrid? Will he get there in time? Who will write the next chapter? Find out soon.

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