"West Capital Plaza and its surrounding area have now been sealed off. We have yet to determine the causes of this morning's bombing, although our investigation tends towards..."

The TV screen flickered off, as Vejita angrily tossed the remote control aside. What irked him the most about broadcast news was that so many words and convoluted explanations were needed in order to convey a very plain and simple fact : they didn't know jack. And they weren't likely to come to any kind of sensible conclusion soon.

He settled back against the wall, and resumed watching over Bulma. He had been worried when he first found her unconscious.Thankfully, she didn't have so much as a bruise on her forehead, and Kakarotto's senzu bag had provided a timely remedy.It occured to Vejita that the latter had been consuming an abnormal amount of senzu beans lately, but he pushed the thought aside. He could care less about Kakarotto's strange health habits at the moment. Bulma was the delicate, fragile one, and the fact that she'd immediately fallen back to sleep after ingesting the senzu bean only added to his concern.

* Trauma* Vejita thought none too happily, as he recalled her restless sleep all throughout the afternoon. Tossing and turning and calling out strange names.

Calling out his name.

Her features were peaceful now, and he thought about going downstairs for a snack. Just a little bite. But he decided against it. He couldn't leave her side just yet. Maybe he was merely being irrational, but he couldn't afford leaving her out of his sight. Not after what almost happened in the morning.

His stomach growled insistently. Kakarotto had kept his word and brought back a week worth of food supplies, but Vejita hadn't been able to swallow a thing. Imagining her standing so close to harm's way literally made him sick. Imagining himself not capable of protecting her...

"You're doing it again."

Vejita started at the sound of Bulma's voice, and looked down to meet a pair of clear blue eyes, locked in the sight of him. He could drink from these, he thought. Without a word, he bent down, and took her into his arms.

"Doing what again, woman?"

Bulma chuckled in his ear. "Brooding."

"Bulma," he said seriously, "you've been out all day."

"And I should have more of these near-death experiences," she replied ever so lightly, "so you can take of me."

Vejita humphed as he disengaged himself from the embrace.

"How much do you remember?" he queried.

"Pretty much everything. Waking up, finding you and Son-kun in my kitchen, going to the market..." Bulma enumerated.

"I was talking about the market part."

"Oh." Bulma's eyes slightly widened. "I remember the security guard, the boy and...and..."

"And..?" Vejita prompted her.

"That's it. That's all I can remember. Was there something more?"

"The boy...did he do...did he say anything to you?"

"Nothing that I'm aware of," Bulma replied, faster than she'd intended to.

Vejita fell silent, and Bulma felt a chill go down her spine. The boy HAD said something to her all right. How could she describe what hearing him had been like? He hadn't used any words, just feelings. Sharp, crystal clear emotions, it had been telepathic communication at its best. And the scariest thing was that it had all seemed so inexplicably familiar, in a distorted, hazy sort of way...

"I think I'll go back to work..." Bulma thought out loud, steering the conversation away from the subject.

"I think you should rest."

"Vejita, I'm OK, Really."

Bulma stood up, waving her arms about, to prove that she was indeed OK. Vejita looked at her suspiciously and said nothing. How could she possibly be all right when her energy level had almost reached rock bottom a few hours before?

"Why are you so concerned about me all of a sudden?" Bulma teased.

Her question was rewarded with his usual low grunt.

"He could have killed you," Vejita said tightly.

"But you guys got him first."

"If you really want to know, I'm not even sure what happened," he admitted reluctantly. "I think I  killed the freak, but the whole thing doesn't make sense. Oh well... He's gone, that's what matters. And...I'm...I'm sorry you had to see all that."

Bulma started at his sudden apology. It wasn't like he actually had anything to do with the morning's scene of carnage. But by now Vejita was well aware of the fact that she hated the sight of blood. His killing all these people at the budokai, while he had been (half) under Babidi's influence, was something he wished she hadn't seen. He'd never once mentioned this episode to her, but she knew.

What a strange turn of fate, that a man who didn't feel any remorse about slaughtering entire populations, would want to protect his family from anything that had to do with his past. Trunks only had a vague idea of what had really happened a few years before his birth, and he rarely asked questions. Bra had grown up firmly believing that her Papa was the best Papa in the whole world; she was as carefree and innocent as any other Human girl, and Vejita was glad of it.

"You know what?" Bulma said, as she traced her way back to her husband and sat on his lap.

"Hn?"

"The hell with my lab. I wanna spend the rest of the day in bed..."

Vejita could't find any arguments against her decision this time.
 

"Dammit, Goten!! Get off my window! Don't you have anything better to do than wake people up at__"

Trunks looked wildly around the room and picked up his alarm clock.

"Three in the fucking morning? In case you don't realize, some people -with the exception of you, of course," Trunks crowed sarcastically, "have a job. You know, that thing where you gotta wake up early, get your briefcase and go to the office...""

Goten gave his friend a pleading look. "Gomen, Trunks-kun... But I've been up all night..."

"Well I'm sure you can wait outside for a few more hours. The sun'll be up at six. See ya later," Trunks drawled, as he tried to shut the window.

But Goten wouldn't budge, and remained stubbornly glued on the window sill."Can't I just stay for a little while? I wanna talk. Onegaaai...?"

Just as he was about to snap at Goten, Trunks caught himself. He was decidedly starting to sound too much like his father. A scary thought to entertain.

"We talk all the time," Trunks said reluctantly."And besides, you can talk to your father, can't you? Isn't he supposed to be the open-minded one?
 
Goten made a wry face. "He's open all right. Whatever I tell him comes in one ear, and comes out the other."

*Stop complaining* Trunks mused bitterly.*At least he doesn't look at you sideways when you say something stupid.*

"I couldn't find him anyway," Goten explained.

"What do you mean, he's out? At this hour?"

Goten nodded in reply."He's been doing that lately."

"Nani ?? He trains at night?!?"

Goten shrugged. "No, he just takes off. My mom doesn't even know."

Trunks looked at his friend in disbelief. "So, he just...takes off."

Goten nodded once more. "You got it. Can I stay now?"

With a sigh of resignation, Trunks invited the unwanted guest in. Hell, it was one more night where he'd have to give up the idea of getting any further sleep. Goten would happily keep him awake with his senseless drivel until morning.

"Sankiuu Trunks-kun!" Goten piped up.

"Whatever. But I don't know who's gonna save your ass when my dad finds you loitering in my room tomorrow."

Her beautiful dark eyes looked up. Pain. Anguish. Fear. Sadness... Love. And the question that still lingered on her lips, unanswered. "Why not forever?"

Bulma nearly sprang out of bed as she awoke. For an instant of blind disorientation, her hands desperately clutched the white sheets, grasping for support. As the mad drumbeat of her heart slowly decreased, she became aware of her surroundings and remembered where she was. Steadying herself, she let her gaze wander about the room, the white-washed walls, the picture of Trunks and Bra on her night table.

She sensed him next to her. A familiar presence, like a soft lullaby, hurtling back the frightening remnants of her nightmare, soothing her alarmed senses.

Vejita.

Carefully, Bulma sat up on the bed. Looking down at her husband's sleeping form, she fought back the urge to wake him up, have him hold her until she could find sleep. Or better yet, make love to her, again...

She smiled wistfully as she recalled how surprisingly gentle he had been with her this evening. She'd been the domineering and demanding one then, and he'd surrendered to her possessive caresses without so much of a protest. A kitten he had been, biting playfully and purring and acting almost completely un-Vejita like. It was yet another side of him she'd uncovered, one of these little things only he could come up with to turn her on.

And obviously, it worked.

* No. No. No.* She told herself again.

She wouldn't wake him now. Besides, how many times had she had a chance to catch a glimpse of him sleeping? She had tried before, really, but no matter how early it was, no matter what time of the night it was, she'd always found the deep coal eyes gazing protectively over her as she
awoke.

But not tonight. And she wondered how she'd done it.

In the soft darkness of the room, she made out the sharp, muscular outline of his body, wandered along the curve of his neck, the contemptuous, sensual mouth, and the high cheekbones of the face she had come to find so utterly beautiful. Instinctively, she reached out to him, but immediately jerked her hand away before she could brush his skin.

* No. Let him go. Before it's too late.*

Bulma suppressed a gasp. Where on Earth did that thought come from? She tore her eyes away from Vejita nonetheless and, careful not to stir him awake, slipped out of the sheets.
 
As she silently trod out of the room, Bulma found herself wishing the entire day had been nothing but one long, restless dream. The boy would have been just another odd dream encounter, and the thought of him wouldn't haunt her as it did now. Everything would be back to normal. She would be back to normal, and she wouldn't feel the strange compulsion to hide anything from Vejita.

But somehow, she sensed that her life was about to take a very drastic turn, and that it was already too late.
 

"What do you mean, 'this matter is no longer under your jurisdiction'?" Piccolo suddenly erupted. "You're God, everything is supposed to be under your jurisdiction."

"On Earth, yes, but..." Dende trailed off, a helpless look on his face.

The young Nameccian had been through all sorts of trials during his years on Earth as Kami, but nothing, nothing in all his previous experiences had prepared him for this. He felt just about as ineffectual as he had beeen when he'd first started the job. So much for all his divine powers. And it didn't seem like Enma Daio had much of a back-up plan either.

"We have to close down Heaven's gates", the Judge's voice thundered, indicating that his decision was final and without appeal.

"Look, pal, " Piccolo said slowly, trying to keep his voice down, "I don't think you're catching my drift here. Millions of people are dying as we speak, and their souls could be lost forever because of this.You can't just 'close down Heaven's gates' because of some random crisis! There HAS to be another way."

Enma shook his head dejectedly. "I'm afraid not. Piccolo, understand me, I know what the stakes are. I know millions of people are dying, but as of now, any of these souls could be contaminated. This isn't just 'some random crisis' we're dealing with. If the virus reaches Heaven..."

Piccolo jumped at the word. "Virus? What virus?"

"The Caste virus, " Enma replied in a low, conspirational tone, as if the mere mention of the name would be enough to bring damnation over their heads.

"The Caste? What on Kami's green Chikyuu is that?"

Enma Daio shifted in his chair and sighed heavily. " Possibly the end of life on green Chikyuu as we know it."

"Care to expand?" Piccolo asked.

"It happened about a thousand years ago, before my time. Kaioh sama probably has more information about it than I do. All I know is that Earth was once invaded by a race of aliens who called themselves the Nash'rtali Caste. On the surface, they basically looked like Humans, with a tiny difference:eyes with no pupils. As for their powers...we're not sure yet. We just know that they carry a very lethal virus that kills relatively fast, depending on their proximity with the victims."

"That's what the virus does to live entities... " Dende ventured."But how could it harm someone who's already dead?"

"It appears that the virus destabilizes the soul. It torments it, never lets it rest in peace in one place. But it's not like we have any witness who could tell us what exactly happens. One fact we're certain of, however, is that Earth before Nash'rtali dominion was a developed planet, almost to the same level as it is now. Population counted perhaps...800 millions, a billion. By the time the Caste left, Earth had become a wasteland, and there were just enough survivors to ensure the continuation of the Human race..."

"Maybe so, but they didn't have anyone powerful enough to protect them back then," Piccolo countered. " I doubt Goku will let a horde of blood thirsty, disease spreading aliens take over. I certainly won't. And besides, we've seen one of them in action this morning."

"What we've seen is that Goku and Vejita were very lucky. If one of them can be this dangerous, I don't want to imagine what the others can do," Enma said, stunning Piccolo into silence. "But I rest my case, Heaven is closed as of today, end of discussion."

Neons and city lights still shone bright in this part of town. Restaurants that were opened 24 hours a day, noisy nightclubs, sounds of broken glass coming from bars, long white limousines gliding slowly  amid herds of unruly yellow cabs, drunks, lost tourists, blind street musicians, overly made-up hookers and overly jewelwed-up pimps... all the ingredients for sleaziness had been thrown into the mix.

Goku had never really been there before, at least not at such an advanced hour in the night. He was wandering aimlessly,  heedless of the many appraising glances that lingered -sometimes insistently- over his tall, broad-shouldered figure. Every once in a while, he was greeted by a whistle at the corner of a street. He'd look up, smile sheepishly, wondering why anyone would whistle at him, and kept on walking.

Kami, was he tired. Even for someone with his stamina, there were limits to how little sleep he could get. And in his case, it had been no sleep at all, for several weeks in a row.

Caffeine was what he craved at the moment. It was a new addiction of his, and he was now more than regularly indulging in the strong, heavy scented black liquid. He could throw in a senzu bean for good measure. Instant high. Still, senzu beans were only meant to heal injuries, not make up for sleep-deprivation. His entire body ached from the unhealthy lack of rest. He could easily fall asleep standing up, in the middle of the street, but he had to fight the need to close his eyes and relax his tensed muscles.

Goku looked around, trying to distract his mind from the tingle in his eyelids. People and lights flashed before him, as loud, hypnotic industrial music flooded his ears. So that was what happened around here after midnight. He would have never guessed. The avenue constituted in itself a world so remote from what he was accustomed to that for the first time in his life, he understood how Vejita still sometimes felt like : an alien, in every sense of the term.

The low purr of an engine suddenly caught his attention. Goku hadn't singled out the noise from the rest until it got very near. Slightly frowning, he turned his head to look at the black sedan that was sliding against the pavement next to him. An automatic tinted wondow rolled down to reveal a sallow looking man, who furtively popped his head out, his eyes practically leering at Goku through very thick glasses.

"Aa... Sumimasen kimi..." the man stammered."Are you...working?"

"Uh huh," Goku replied, not really clear on what the man was actually talking about, but then, not really paying attention either.

The man's stutter deepened." I...Ikura? How mu...much?"

A voice startled them both. "Hey, you old pervert, I saw this one first and he's mine! Wait a minit... Aren't you that guy on Religion Today or something? Well, well, well, Quentin Parsimon, what a nice surprise. Does the scenery here suit your tastes?"

Goku smiled as he recognized Bulma. The man named Parsimon, on the other hand, turned greener than Piccolo. The tinted window immediately rolled back up, as the black sedan quickly drove away, nearly running a few people over in the process.

"Talk about a hypocrite..." Bulma murmured, as she watched the car disappear at the corner of a street.

"Bulma," Goku said heartily, "what are you doing here?"

"Why, Son-kun, I could ask you the same thing," Bulma countered playfully. "Construction worker by day, hustler by night... Care to fill me in on your double life?"

Goku blinked, as utter confusion washed over his features."What's a hustler?" he asked innocently.

"A cute guy who walks around at 3 am in the morning wearing revealing outfits," Bulma quipped.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Goku pouted, looking down at the beat-up denims and white tank he'd borrowed from Gohan.

Bulma patted his back reassuringly. "Nooothing. Absolutely nothing. I'm just teasing."

They kept walking in silence, arm in arm.

"So, what are you really doing here Son-kun?"

"I couldn't sleep," Goku answered plainly.

The blue haired woman grinned knowingly. "Me neither."

"Bulma... Do you have nightmares?"

"Everybody does," Bulma replied carefully.

"I mean, real intense, scary nightmares every time you go to sleep."

"What exactly do you see in them?" Bulma asked, staring up at Goku's unusually anguished expression.

"Well...They're very strange and confusing. I'm not sure what really happens in 'em, but there's one where I keep on dying. They're painful... So painful, and sad too."

"Why not forever..." Bulma murmured absentmindedly.

Goku started at her softly pronounced words. "Nani?"

"Huh?"

"What did you just say?"

" 'Why not forever' " Bulma repeated in wonder.

"I heard that. In my dreams I did."

Bulma nearly tripped. Goku's arm shot forward to catch her, and they both came to a halt. This time, Bulma took a good look at Goku's face. In all the years she'd known him, she'd never seen him quite like this. Not only did he seem worried and confused, he was also dead tired. The dark circles under his eyes accounted for at least a week without sleep, maybe more.

"Then I really am not crazy, " Bulma whispered, almost to herself.

"You've been having strange dreams too?"

Bulma nodded. "And I've been seeing and hearing things. And I know Vejita didn't kill the boy."

Goku suddenly forgot about being tired. "How did you..?"

"That's where things get a little complicated," Bulma said, clutching his arm again." Let's go sit down somewhere and talk, shall we? I need your help and we really don't have a whole lot of time..."

At the other side of the street, unbeknownst to either Goku or Bulma, two pair of eyes watched on, perplexed.

"Yamucha-san, what are they doing here?" Pouaru turned back to look at his companion.

"Only Kamisama knows..." Yamucha replied.

Now that was a strange sight. Goku and Bulma, walking arm in arm in the middle of the sleaziest area in town. Goku, practically looking like a hustler, and Bulma, a little...dishevelled. If he hadn't known them, he would have thought them a couple having a midnight tryst. Ok, a four in a morning tryst. Whatever.Yamucha debated on whether he should catch up with them or not. He finally decided he would't. What they did with their spare time, no matter how unusual the circumstances were, was none of his business. He could always ask Bulma later anyhow. He turned on his heels and started walking in the opposite direction.

"Say, Pouaru," he called, "where's that nudie bar we passed by earlier on this evening?"
 
 

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