Well, please allow me to say this: GOD FUCKING DAMN! I FINALLY got a chance to update this, finally! School has kept me so friggin' busy the past few weeks, and there have been moments where I couldn't work on this for 2 weeks.
Now, this chapter is a little shorter than average, but don't worry over it. This was all that I felt would improve the story here. Next chapter will very likely be at 8000 words or more (this chapter has an exact amount of words of 6600)
Now, despite my absence, I hope you will all read, review and enjoy!
She had always been a little special to him, this particular girl. Sometimes it was hard to keep playing the role of gentleman when you were in Gohan's position. No matter what path in life he chose, no matter what stupid decision he'd make, his social manners never escaped him. He always treated a customer with a smile, and his politeness was his greatest virtue. It was what gave him his charm and appeal. If there was one thing that Gohan knew, it was how to treat a lady right.
To say that the life of a drug lord came without its perks would be a lie. The young man had everything he could ever dream of, as long as it could be bought with a stack of green bills. If he wanted, he could probably buy his own football team and a rocket ship to go with, but his heart was free of materialistic desires. Deep inside, all that he craved was his family, the one that he had alienated himself from three long years ago. Gohan didn't know whether he would ever speak to them again. He could always hope, but that future seemed grim now. The only time he would probably ever look Son Goku straight in the eyes again would be from his seat in the interrogation chamber.
His friends were an alright bunch, surely enough. They were the source of a good chuckle here and there, as well as his beacon of trust. Ever since the incident with his uncle during his childhood, keeping faith in the kindness of others was an impossible task for the drug runner. Nowadays he didn't even consider the good in their hearts, only if they were quick enough to betray him or not. He had to admit to himself that it was a lousy way of arranging the people you allow into your life, but he saw no other option.
But of course, like any other person would, he too occasionally craved intimate contact with another human being. Sometimes he questioned himself over it. Wasn't it a strange thing that he simply needed the feeling of a warm embrace to keep himself going, with the way he had crafted his life around himself? Was he allowed to make demands like these if he was the one that put himself in this position?
Whenever Gohan felt the need to release, he'd draw back into his own shell. For a short while, that polite, well-mannered and charming young man was nowhere to be seen, instead becoming an emotionally fragile boy that pulled too much shit during his youth, which he now had to repent for in seclusion. These was the times where he'd let his inner self go, and where he'd just cut off nearly all ties to the world around him. In those moments, he was a different person.
And this was one of those times. Nearly being caught by his own father had struck a nerve, deeply. While Gohan was intelligent enough to comprehend that what he was doing was wrong on every level, he found it difficult to stray away from it and to do what was morally right. Some small voice in his head kept telling him that even if he returned home and stopped his criminal ways, nothing would turn out for the better. Instead of having to miss his family from the confines of his newly bought luxury armchair, he'd have to think back on his past mistakes from behind cold steel bars. The decision was made easily enough, but not without some feeling of remorse. This was what he tried to get off his mind this very moment. And she was always the one to help him with that.
He considered himself an honest man, but a little white lie never hurt anyone. He had once told Erasa that he didn't flatter himself with female company. Not if it was traded for one of his plastic baggies at least. But the life of a felon on the run was a lonely one, even more so without people he could truly trust. So every once in a while, at moments like these, he'd ask for her to spend a night in his company. Not just some sleazy booty call, but an actual night spent with her in his arms, and her sweet scent playing at his nostrils. That she did it for the drugs was something he preferred not to think about.
And here they were again, their ragged breathing and the occasional low moan reverberating off the brick walls, their bodies tangled in the bedsheets. He longed for her touch and her sweet lips against his. He drank in her warmth and allowed it to warm him up. He took a sense of security from it, even though he knew that it was all a hoax. It took his thoughts away from himself and from what he represented. All that mattered was the two of them, and the palpable passion that hung in the air like oxygen.
Two bodies moving as one, skin against skin. He was just like any other man in this matter. While Gohan was always far from ordinary, he shared the same basic needs as his peers. Seeing her on top of him, her small and naked frame so perfect and lust awakening, made him forget it all. He supposed that it was how his customers felt: so in search of the one thing that could provide relief. For them it was a white line on a mirror's surface, or a small pill to make them feel happy and ecstatic. For him it was the feel of her bare skin sliding against his. Everyone had some sort of addiction.
And then came that feeling that he welcomed every time. For just the smallest of moments, the euphoria that coursed through his veins severed the ties to his broken past. In the span of maybe thirty seconds he allowed it to cloud out his every heart sore, to take away his troubles and to make him feel sheer bliss. Sweet relief was welcomed with a cry, as if to let all the hardship out through his vocal cords. His body trembled for a moment, not able to contain the pleasure all at once. Then he fell back with his head against the pillow, completely spent.
She slowly slid off and laid next to him, one slender hand tracing the outlines of his toned chest. A girlish giggle escaped her as she drew in closer, and Gohan delighted in the feeling of her bare breasts pressing against his arm. He snaked his own around her shoulder and rested his cheek against her head, inhaling deeply and letting the sweet-smelling scent of her raven hair intoxicate him. A glance down revealed two ocean blue eyes, and underneath, a playful wide grin.
"Ah, Mr. Moon," Videl chuckled softly against his neck, sending the slightest of shudders down his spine. "I say this to all of my clients, but you are the only one to bring truth to my words." She slowly moved into a sitting position and used the thin, white bedsheets to cover herself up. "You were amazing, as always." She shook her hair out and draped the long locks over her bared shoulders. The mere sight of it was, in the least to say, appetizing.
"Believe it or not," Gohan laughed, cracking his hereditary grin while taking her hand in his. "'Amazing' is my middle name." He kissed the back of her hand and allowed himself a smile when he heard her giggle again like a little schoolgirl. He liked to believe that his charming appeal came natural to him. It had helped him during the course of his career more than once. It was astounding what a simple and polite smile could accomplish.
"Oh, I believe you," the beauty's blue eyes twinkled in amusement as she crawled towards him. "It just struck me as odd at first. When I heard about this 'Mr. Moon' person, I envisioned a paranoid thug, not a charming young man with the manners of a true gentleman." Her lips curved ever so sweetly as she spoke. "The life of us pleasure vendors are rough ones, Mr. Moon. We have to deal with assholes and perverts every day. It's hard to find a man like you these days."
Moon arched his brows and smirked. "Pleasure vendors?"
"I prefer it over the term 'whore'", Videl said. She moved herself on top of him and laughed when she felt his hand roaming the small of her back. "But I'm sure that a well-mannered gent like yourself would never use such a derogatory term."
"Who says I'm a well-mannered gent?" Gohan retorted with a feigned serious expression. "Perhaps I'm incredibly dangerous, who knows?"
Her laugh was as sweet as her smile. "Maybe, if you talk to the right people. But to me you're as kind as can be. I find it difficult to believe that you're a felon, Mr. Moon. You seem so innocent."
Gohan had to snort back a fit of laughter at the remark. "Innocent, huh? I'm anything but, darling. When I was just a wee young tyke, let's say..." He tried to recall for just how long he had been breaking the law on at least a monthly basis. "...thirteen years old, I used my wits and knowledge of mechanics to hotwire cars. I'd steal them and sell them for parts." His big hands found their way to the bed sheets that covered all of Videl's naked glory. "Is that dangerous enough for you? Or do you need to see my police records first?" He slowly tugged at the fabric, revealing her shoulders for his eyes to feast upon.
Her hands were quick enough to stop him, though, and kept the sheets just above her chest. "Well, that changed my entire perception of you," she giggled once and straddled him with her hips. "You are every man's worst fear and children cower upon hearing your name. Your tale will go down in history books, and your reign of terror shall live on forever..."
"Okay, okay," Gohan chuckled, moving his hands over her smooth belly. "Can we cut it down on the sarcasm and get back into the sheets? You look way too delicious on top of me like that."
She blushed a little at the compliment, and tossed some of her raven bangs in her face to hide to shade red on her cheeks. "Say, Mr. Moon," the beauty queried. "How come you told Erasa that you don't like trading sex for drugs? She complains about it weekly; it gives me the feeling that she wants to get into your pants." The fingers on one hand found their way to his chest, tracing every line and every perfectly cut crevice. The others curled into his black locks, playing with them and twirling them around.
"Well, don't tell her I said this..." Gohan smirked as he pulled the bed sheets down completely. The sight of her perky breasts bouncing ever so lightly made his mouth water. "But Erasa seems to me like a venereal disease with legs."
Videl laughed out loudly and leaned over forward, meeting his lips in a passionate kiss.
The flowers were actually very pretty. Goten wondered why he had never realized this before. For as long as he had been a student at the South City High School, he had pretty much ignored the grassy field that was located right around the corner. But now that his 'interests' had shifted, he had suddenly found a reason to use the place, and now he was sitting smack in the middle, studying the flora like it were an extinct species.
The feeling of a filter pressed to his lips was one he was slowly beginning to get accustomed to, as was that slight burn that he felt every time the acrid smoke passed his throat and went to his lungs. He welcomed it and even took a little bit of delight in it. It was a solid reminder of the heavenly relaxation that was about to wash over him in waves, something he had decided he needed more than anything.
His exhale came in the form of a sigh, and onyx eyes absentmindedly followed the swirling smoke as it rose up into the atmosphere. The smell of it teased his nostrils with its sweetness. Previous Saturday he had taken his first few drags from a joint and now he was sold. Just for a few hours, that sweet, sweet green plant had made all his worries go away, and gave him the greatest sense of happiness he'd felt over the last three years.
He tried to ignore the idea that what he was doing at that exact moment, was in fact illegal. Let alone should his dad find out. He'd probably die of shame if he found out that his goody-two-shoes of a son was actually using drugs.
"Mr, Son Goku," Goten said to himself. His voice was laced with sarcasm. He took another hit from his joint and continued. "Crusader against Mr. Moon's grandiose organization. And not to forget, Father of the Year." He spewed out a pillar of smoke and felt his mood turn sour. So what, his dad was the biggest anti-drug person that ever existed. The man was never home anyway, what was he supposed to catch Goten doing anyway?
He played with his lighter absentmindedly, contemplating just how ridiculously easy it had been to obtain of bit of weed, even for a fourteen year old kid. You'd reckon that something that had been banned by law and could be punished with a prison sentence would be hard to get your hands on, but it was quite the contrary. All the teen had to do was approach a group of kids he estimated to be about two or three years older than he was. He had noticed them smoking reefer behind the city's library, and he had asked them if they knew somebody who could help him acquire his fix. After a few wary glances and being questioned if he wasn't too young to 'do this stuff', one of the boys in the group had slipped him a piece of paper with an address on it.
"Just tell her Bryce sent you," the teenager had told him with a sneaky wink to go with.
The word 'her' had struck Goten as off, admittedly. Being a drug dealer didn't strike him as a woman's job, prejudice as it may have been. His father had cooked up enough stories about gangs shooting each other to shits over territory, and when it came to Goku, drugs were always involved.
When Goten had sought out the house the address belonged to, he had knocked on the door twice and waited in anticipation. He got startled the life out of him when a thin slot at about chest height slid open, and a pair of grey, wrinkly eyes peered at him through it.
"Who is there?" the voice had sounded frail, but demanding.
"Hi, m-my name is Goten," the boy introduced himself and sank through his knees to make eye contact. "I was told that you might be able to help me get something that I'm looking for." he was silent for a second or two, before quickly adding: "Bryce sent me."
The deep grey orbs had observed him momentarily from under a furrowed brow, but then the slot was slammed shut, and the front door the house opened.
Before him stood a very tiny woman, who just about reached to his armpit. She was old, well over seventy, he estimated, and her grey hair, which matched her eyes, had been neatly tied up into a bun on the top of her head. Her expression wasn't that of a sweet old grandmother, but instead she glanced at him with weary eyes.
"Hi Ma'am," Goten said, bowing politely. "My name-"
"Is Goten, I heard you the first time," The woman gave the kid another glance over and then gestured for him to come inside. "You can call me Baba." When the Son boy followed her through the musky hallway she asked him. "Aren't you a little young for this, sweetling?"
Goten shook his head feverishly and his spiky hair swung from side to side. "Don't think so," he replied, walking after Baba when she walked into her living room. The old woman arched a brow once, but decided not to ask any questions.
Her living room was exactly like the teenager had expected it to be. Typical old lady furniture stood scattered throughout, with the standard ugly flower printing to give it just the right amount of unwanted detail. The tables and stands all seemed to be in varying stages of antiqueness, and a big cupboard had been positioned above the dining table. A snow-white cat laid on one of the armchairs, obviously in deep sleep.
"So, what is it you want?" Baba asked him, arms crossed and waiting. "Because if you thought that I could fix you up with some adderall or Oxytocin, you're terribly mistaken."
Goten's mouth dropped a bit. Who did she think he was? One of those no good junkies you saw lying on the curb on every stroll you took through the outskirts of the city?
"N-No," he said, still somewhat offended. "I was only hoping that you could sell me some marihuana. I won't have anything to do with hard drugs of any kind."
"Well then that's good for you, dear," Baba smiled at him, but Goten was sure he heard just the slightest hint of disbelief in her voice. "Because if I find out that you do stick your nose in some of that white talcum powder or that you do turn out to do some heroin acupuncture, I might have to smack you in the kneecaps with my walking cane next time I see you."
The not so serious expression on Baba's face made the kid laugh. "I promise."
"Well then," The old woman clapped her hands and grinned. "Let's see if I have something nice in my spice rack for you." The quizzical expression on Goten's face caused her to chuckle.
The son of Goku watched with great interest as Baba hoisted herself up on a chair to open the big cupboard. When the doors swung open, Goten could swear his pupils had dilated. He spotted dozens and dozens of small plastic bags, every single one of them filled with pills in all shapes and sizes, or stuffed to the brim with white powdery substances. Baba hadn't been kidding when she called this her 'spice rack'.
In the middle stood the greatest eye catchers, namely two large glass pots filled with numerous buds of weed. With the shaky hands of an elderly lady, she took one of the jars from its spot and screwed it open. She then opened a drawer in the dining table and pulled out what Goten at first believed to be a CD case. However, when Baba opened it, the thing turned out to be a weighing scale in clever disguise.
"How much do you need?" Baba queried as she dipped her hand in, pulling out one of the biggest buds Goten had seen so far. He could smell the damn thing from across the room, and the scent was as sweet as ever. The odd thing was, though, that the dried plants had a vague purple color to them, instead of the usual green.
"A tenner," Goten replied, watching Baba as she turned on her scale and began weighing. "Or wait, make that fifteen."
A minute later everything had been taken care of, and the elderly drug dealer slipped the weed into a ziplock bag. She was quick enough to put the glass jar back in its original place, but before she stepped down from the chair, the woman screwed open a bottle of what seemed to be medicine and took one of the pills, downing it in an instant. She smirked when she saw the boy's curious glance.
"Good for the arthritis," she giggled like a young girl as she walked over to Goten. She shoved the bag into has hands for him to study the contents. "Purple Kush," she said, tapping her index finger on one of the buds. "Delightfully powerful stuff, if you ask me. Tastes great too. And since you seem like a nice kid to me, I decided to give you a little extra."
Goten had never heard of anything called 'Purple Kush' before. He reckoned he might as well study up on his drug related vocabulary, so he wouldn't have to raise his eyebrows constantly.
"Now why don't you be a dear and roll a nice spliff?" Baba smiled at him and his puzzled look. "I'll go put the kettle on and make some tea. You'll find rolling papers and filters in that little box right there on the table. And in case you're wondering why an old woman like me still smokes that sweet, sweet Mary Jane, you should know that antibiotics aren't the only thing that helps the arthritis." She winked slyly at Goten before marching off into the kitchen.
The teenager was flabbergasted. Gone was the woman with the prying eyes he had seen at the other side of the front door, and she had made way for a sweet, old, grandmotherly type of lady, who could be your best gal pal as well. She was awesome.
It wasn't too long before baba returned with a platter filled with a tea pot, cups, sugar and an assortment of cookies to go with. Goten had already taken place at the table and was just finished rolling up the good kind of cigarette.
"Here darling," Baba said, placing one of the ceramic cups in front of him and filling it to the brim with strong-smelling mint tea. She poured her own as Goten lit the finished joint and spewed out smoke.
Öh, I remember when I was your age," the woman smiled, reliving past memories. "We'd all come together in the forest outside of town, which was, by the way, a lot bigger about fifty years ago, before they started popping up buildings like mushrooms. Anywho, like I said, we'd all come together and spend all night smoking green and dancing to Ol' Tom's guitar playing... Good times, good times."
Goten laughed. "Didn't you get into shit with the police? I heard that fifty years ago the laws were a lot stricter."
Ïn some ways they were," Baba answered, sipping her tea and offering the boy a biscuit. "the only difference was that nobody cared. You couldn't turn a corner without smelling that stuff. I reckon everybody still smokes weed nowadays, but they are much more secret about it."
Goten nodded in understanding once, when suddenly a question arose.
"Say, maybe you can enlighten me on this," He took a gulp of the warm beverage, and found it surprisingly sweet and tasty. Baba lifted an eyebrow over the edge of her teacup. "This... logo, or emblem if you will," he tapped his index finger on his ziplock bag, pointing at the round, full moon printed onto the plastic. "Do you know what it means? I've seen it before, but I wouldn't know where it's from."
"Ah, I see," Baba took the joint that Goten offered her, and put it to her wrinkled lips before continuing. "This is indeed a logo, and it belongs to a man who calls himself Moon."
Goten frowned. For some reason he felt like he had heard that name on a previous occasion. "Moon?" he parroted Baba's words. "I guess it's safe to assume that he's some big time drug dealer?" He drank some more of his tea and reached for a biscuit.
"Oh, he's more than that," the old woman told him. "He's not only my supplier, but if I may believe the stories, he's the biggest narcotics trafficker in the entire southern district."
Goten nearly choked on his tea, sputtering some across the table. "Sorry," he said as he wiped the residu away with his sleeve. "I was a little too greedy there." It was a lie, but he was sure that Baba wouldn't notice. Now he really knew where the name Moon came from. He absentmindedly took the joint back from Baba, staring into his cup and watching the ripples move back and forth.
Back in the present day, on that grassy field right by his school, Goten's mind was spinning in circles. He was certain that his father had never dropped the name Moon before, or maybe once or twice to avoid a sour look from his mother. Yet, from all the hours he spent with his ears pressed to the door in an attempt to learn about his brother's whereabouts, he had found out that Gohan had taken his new profession very seriously. Goku had mentioned how his siblings emporium had grown to monstrous sizes in a matter of months, so incredibly huge that he was the king amongst dealers in the South.
The boy plucked some grass from its soil to keep his hands occupied. He had almost finished his joint, and he had to get to school in a few minutes. Yet, his brains wouldn't allow any form of education to sink in today. All that he could think about was how the marihuana that he had been smoking the past week had all found itself under his brother's care, and how Gohan was probably making money off his little squirt right now.
Goten stared at the joint between his fingers. He took a final hit and threw the butt away, watching it land and smolder for the shortest of seconds, before the strings of smoke that rose from the end died out. The boy couldn't help but wonder how it had all begun for this 'Mr. Moon'. Was it something small, like trying out weed or stealing a magazine? He could hardly imagine that Gohan had been selling coke and heroin on the streets from day one.
A quick reach into his pocket rewarded him with the feel of plastic. Was he heading in the same direction as the man he once so admired? That couldn't be, right? All he was doing was smoking a harmless plant, right?
Ah, how would he make it through the day without his whiskey?
Gyu Mao tested the strength of his mayoral chair by leaning backwards, feet kicked up onto his desk. The man took a big gulp of his favored beverage and drained his glass. A quick glance at the clock told him that it was about time that he straightened his tie and put on his glasses. He had an appointment in several minutes.
The bottom drawer of his desk was still his favorite hiding spot, so the crystal work was disposed of quickly enough. HIs attire was sorted quite rapidly too, and after that it was simply waiting until his four o'clock meeting would ensue.
In the final minutes to spare, Gyu allowed his mind to wander. About one week ago, the mayor of South City had received a visit from the person he least expected. Around this hour, right after another one of those dreadful tea parties for the good of social connections, his grandson had suddenly stood before him. The one who had seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth without a single trace.
The man had always felt a love for his grandchildren that couldn't be measured by any means. He assumed that it transcended the affection that your every day grandfather felt, and not without proper reason. Because, in all honesty, not every grandfather was a big time mayor with a drug dealer as a grandchild and a police officer for a son in law.
With his status and political power, Gyu Mao was able to pull strings around the city, and work them for his own winnings. Gohan was very much aware of this, and he had come to his gramps bearing a request. Now, the kid might be the most influential narcotics trafficker in the entire southern district, but that didn't mean that his beloved old granddad would simply turn his back on him. Quite on the contrary, actually, he loved helping the boy in his endeavors.
Well, 'boy' might have been a bit of an understatement when it came to Gohan. When he had left his maternal home several years ago, he had been a boy. He might have been a legal adult, but he was still very much young and inexperienced. Or so the mayor thought. With the passing of time, the spawn of his spawn had matured greatly, and seeing him in his office seven days prior had shown him Gohan for who he really was: A man.
Gohan had become a very charming young man, who was incredibly good with his words and seemed to lure people in just by flattering them and approaching them with just the right talk. Now, his profession might've been one that not everyone would accept with open arms, but Gyu Mao had to admit that he was proud of his grandson. Even with his schemes and his merchandise, Gohan had turned out to be a fine, smart and well-mannered young man.
So, of course, the man had definitely been willing to help his grandson out. He had done so before, over a year and a half ago, to see to it that everything Gohan did went as smoothly as possible. This time there had been several requests, but none that couldn't be taken care of.
The one that Gyu found most noticeable was in relations to Gohan's little brother. Goten had grown from the little enthusiastic boy that he used to be into somewhat of a grey mouse of a teenager. While his sibling hadn't been around to see this development, Gyu fully understood how Gohan was aware of this. His own daughter, Chi-Chi, hadn't taken all too kindly to her eldest when he had departed from home, and that attitude still shined through to this day. Her once so sweet and gentle way of talking had turned stiff, and she only spoke when spoken to now. It saddened an old man's heart.
Goten's father was an entirely different case. Gyu Mao had never really been able to get along with Son Goku, and he wasn't afraid to admit to that. He found that his son in law always had this... air over him that simply exuded authority and demanded respect. The mayor supposed that it wasn't a strange thing to happen to a man in blue, but that didn't mean he liked it one bit.
Not that Goku wasn't a good father, on the contrary. Gyu was certain that the police chief would do everything for his children, Gohan included. But what Gyu didn't like about the man was how he would put everything aside to reach his goals, and this time it meant that he would hardly even notice that he had two sons, instead of the one that he was chasing right now. Goku had to realize that trying to capture the cloud of smoke that Gohan was didn't go above caring for his other child, the one who rarely saw his father home and was likely forced to press his ear to the door at midnight hours, simply to hear his voice.
Gohan had requested for the mayor to keep an eye out for his little brother, to make certain that when something should happen, Gyu would intervene. That was something that he would do even without question.
But Gohan had come with a second request as well, something that would solely turn out in his own good. Although Gyu Mao believed that it could be a positive change for his other grandson as well. What that request entailed, well... that was why he had a meeting scheduled this afternoon.
The man stared at the clock over the edge of his glasses, watching the arms tick and turn. Perhaps he could do with another glass of that delicious whiskey...
"Your four o'clock meeting has arrived, sir." the voice of his sweet, old secretary Beatrice became audible through his intercom speaker. The mayor sighed. His whiskey would have to wait, although it wouldn't hurt now. This was not going to be pretty.
"Send him in." Gyu replied. He rubbed his eyes under his glasses and exhaled deeply. He just had to get this over with.
The door to his office swung open, and a man walked in, wearing a jacket that belonged to the South City Police Department. With his unruly and spiked black hair he was the spitting image of the mayor's grandsons.
"Sit down please," Gyu decided that a formal approach would be the best way to deal with this predicament.
"Why did you call me in?" Goku queried even before he had sat himself down properly. Although Gohan might not like to admit it, he was like his father in many ways. Neither of them liked to beat around the bush, and both were incredibly straight forward.
Gyu sat down at his desk and interlaced his fingers, resting his head on his fists. He looked at the man in front of him for a few seconds, and felt a strange mixture of pity and loathing swell up inside of him. This was the man who was responsible for the misery of his daughter and grandson, and that was something that Gyu Mao simply couldn't forgive.
"I've heard that work hasn't been going so smoothly lately," he had to suppress the tendency to say 'the past three years'. "it seems that you've made it your top priority. Is this true?"
Goku frowned in confusion. "What the hell kind of question is that?" Only he would have the nerve to talk that way to someone so influential.
"I mean," Gyu Mao said, speaking slowly. "Is that what you are doing is far from what I like to see."
"What you like to see?" a muscle in the man's jaw clenched, and it was apparent that he was trying to keep his emotions in check. "What do you mean by that? Am I not doing a good job? Am I a disgrace to the police force? Is that what you're trying to tell me?"
The mayor sighed and rubbed his eyes again. "No Goku, I'm not." He gave the police chief a stare that would've cut through bone. "What I mean is that you've let your obsession with finding Gohan absorb you completely. Are you aware that Gohan isn't your only son?"
Goku's mouth fell open, rendering him speechless.
"Are you trying to imply that I'm a bad father?" his tone dropped several octaves and his brow furrowed menacingly. Mao saw that little muscle in his jaw twitch again, and it was only a matter of time before he would lose his self-control.
"How can you be a bad father if you're never around in the first place?" Goku's nostrils flared, and his father in law knew that he had struck a proper chord with the man. Perhaps now he would listen to reason a bit properly. "Because I think that Goten hasn't seen your face for a few weeks now, or has he?" He could almost hear the empathy in his own voice.
Goku wove his fingers into his hair in silent contemplation. Gyu Mao had no idea what kind of thoughts were mulling around in the police chief's mind, but he let the man think for just a little while longer. When he thought that Goku had had enough time to pity himself, the mayor scraped his throat and spoke slowly.
"Goku, I'm sorry that I have to tell you this," he actually was sorry, somewhat. "But I want you to lay off Gohan's case for now," he didn't fail to notice the man go wide-eyed. "And, to make certain that you spend some time with your son and wife, my dearly beloved daughter, I've arranged that you will be pulled off the police force until January first of next year."
It took a second or two before the words had sunken in. Shock crept over Goku's features when the realisation dawned upon him.
"You can't do this to me!" He had suddenly forgotten to control the volume of his voice, slamming his hands down onto Gyu's desk to add to the noise and anger. "This isn't fair!"
"Well Goku, you might find yourself surprised when you discover that I can, in fact, have you pulled of the police force," The older one of the duo said, sliding open his desk drawer and taking out his prized crystal glass and favorite drink. He poured himself a glass and filled one for the now ex-police chief as well, sliding it across the hardwood surface of his desk in Goku's direction. He took a good swallow and continued. "And it seems to me that you are the only person who thinks that this isn't fair in any way." Another gulp. "I'm certain that Chi-Chi and Goten would be delighted to hear that you'll be staying home for a little while. Now, come and have a drink with me." He hid his features behind his glass, trying his best to not let a smile curl his lips.
Goku, however, ignored the offered drink completely and stared his father in law dead in the eyes from across the desk that separated them. It was like he was trying to figure everything about this situation out: Gyu's motives, who would actually be responsible for his forced retirement. It was fun to see him actually put his brains to the good for once.
"Gohan set you up to this, didn't he?" the man eventually concluded, anger fueling each of his words and his voice a trembling mess. "He knew that you couldn't stand or see me, let alone actually be supportive of my cause. So he came in here and asked you to dispose of me, DIDN'T HE?"
Perhaps this man wasn't as stupid as he came across.
"Of course he didn't, you nitwit," Gyu Mao decided to screw up the volume of his voice as well, meeting Goku on par. "Do you actually think that I'd be stupid enough to let the biggest criminal in the southern district into my private office?" That familiar twitch in the other's jaw informed the mayor that Goku was now doubting his own words, exactly the way Gyu wanted it,.
"Now, get out of my office and go spend some proper time with your family!" the mayor found himself getting angrier by the second. "And if I find out that you're still snooping around like the cop you no longer are, I'll see to it that you'll land behind bars sooner that Gohan will!"
Goku shot the man one last venomous look, before stomping out and slamming the door shut with such force that the windows vibrated in their windowsills.
Gyu chuckled and reached into his pocket, retrieving a cellular phone. He tapped the first number under speed dial and listened as it rang twice before being answered on the other side.
"Hey Gohan, me boy! Say, why don't you come on over and have a drink with your grandfather? I don't think that you'll be bothered by your father anymore..."