Heroes ‘And you'll keep my identity a secret And you will know the touch beneath my glove And I may go out every night and risk my life for strangers But you're the only girl I'll ever love’ Four Color Love Story, Metasciences ‘I was home entertaining guests I fell off the chair and cracked open my head Bees flew out and they flew up their skirts 'cause they wanted to travel the world Keep it upstairs for the grand finale I keep it upstairs Gonna be a blank slate, gonna wear a white cape But I keep it upstairs Gonna jump out of a cake with my heart on a string’ Blank Slate, National ‘A heart that's full up like a landfill A job that slowly kills you Bruises that won't heal You look so tired, unhappy I'll take the quiet life A handshake of carbon monoxide No alarms and no surprises’ No Surprises, Radiohead ‘I always thought that he should just quit all the intergalactic stuff, move into some suburbs and start a super hero gig, and just fight regular bad guys.’ Sonny Strait, in an interview with Jon Allen, about Krillin ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~--O< “I’d think Vegeta did this, but that would mean he had a sense of humor.” She looked irritated. The oversized, novelty needle took on a dangerous air. Somehow, he swore her short dress rode up more. It had started off as such an ordinary evening. Goku had arrived first, carrying a case of beer, devoured most of the pizza, and eventually his other friends showed up. They drank and watched TV and joked about Goku’s wedding night. Sure, maybe it wasn’t the most original bachelor party. No one would give him an award for throwing it. But it was peaceful. And after everything they’d been through lately, maybe that was for the best. A chance to rest and just sit around with your shoes off was valuable in their line of work. So that's what they did. Until this. Everyone went home, gradually. He’d heard a knock at the door, and politely puzzled, had gone to answer it. Had someone left behind their keys…? Getting up had been better than fighting with his friend over the last piece of pizza. Then he’d found a blonde haired woman outside his door, grimly dressed in a black overcoat. "Hello." Her voice was chilly and uninterested. “Is Goku here?” Unimpressed. “Y-yes.” Then she’d nearly shoved him aside to enter the apartment. Krillin managed to look up from his shoes. “Um. This is nice and all, but we don’t have any…” He looked back down again. “We don’t have any cash. To pay you.” “It’s already paid for. I do however, have a job to do.” With her arms crossed and her old-fashioned cap tipped back, she wasn’t exactly what he’d imagined a stripper to be. Of course, he’d never met one before, or seen one outside a movie or television. But still. Didn’t they smile a lot more? Maybe she was having an off day? When she stepped forward, both Krillin and Goku flinched back. “Now, which one of you is Goku?” They both pointed a finger at each other. Now, she looked a unnerved. Krillin felt a little bad. It wasn’t that she wasn’t pretty or anything, she was gorgeous, but well. Goku was about to get married. And he, well, he still hoped that maybe he might run into his ex again and patch things up. Or meet someone brand new that he could tell people he’d met clothed and not sliding bills into her underwear. Not that this lady would. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t do anything like that, would she? The blonde woman found a pair of rubber gloves and snapped them on authoritatively. She gave them a hard look with a pair of cold blue eyes, then went into the bedroom. The black bag in her hand looked ominous. Krillin shivered. This definitely wasn’t like the strippers from television acted. Her voice echoed through the empty bachelor pad. “As soon as you figure out which one of you is actually Goku, then come see me.” “I can’t go in there.” Goku grabbed his shoulder and shook it. The force of it shook the entire couch. “I hate needles. I don't see why I have to get a shot.” Krillin looked at his best friend for a long time. “Alright. I’ll go in there.” Then his face went red. Hopefully, when his friends found out, they would only think that a nice nurse had stopped by and that was it. Wait. That was it. He wasn’t actually going to do anything. And she was just a stripper right? Not a…other type of person who showed up in revealing clothes for sexual purposes. If he went in there, would he find her laying naked on his bed? For a brief second, he wished Master Roshi was still here. He would know what to do. Although, that might be encouraging his pupil to go in there and become a man. At the least, he would have some cash on him and then he could pay her and nicely ask her to leave. His knees were shaking as he stood up. He looked at his shoes again. A little worn down at the bottom and the shoelaces were fraying. They were somehow dear to him, a remnant of his life before a stripper had come through the front door and thrown off her raincoat onto him. Krillin looked at his ankles, seeing the white socks and remembered pulling them on in a dark bedroom that now currently held a beautiful woman. He wished he was wearing something better than a pair of baggy blue pants and a similarly overlarge orange t-shirt. Not that it mattered. She was solely here for the money and probably didn’t even care that he lacked a nose. In his bedroom, she looked so out of place. She sat on his bed, smoking a cigarette and raised a thin yellow eyebrow. Her white nurses’ outfit glowed in the lit lamp resting on his bedside table. Like a small tamed animal, her black bag stood patiently by her feet. Her heels were short and there was another surprise. It seemed like sacrilege to have a nurse smoking. But then, he could understand how important uniforms and costume were, and even more so when they were convenient to run in. Thankfully, his bed was made. Nor was there anything embarrassing hanging around. Everything was tucked away in his closet and so far as she knew, he was just an average guy. She looked amused, and it took all his will to continue moving closer. A part of him, a large part, told him to run. To just run out the front door and leave Goku behind. He could go to Yamcha’s house and tell him about what had just happened. Sure, the taller man might laugh, but he could take that. Krillin imagined himself safe and sound in his friend’s fancy apartment, maybe having a cup of coffee and laughing the entire thing off. Especially when they joked about Goku being stuck in the home with her. “So, you’re Goku?” Her eyelashes were curiously long and dark. There is no way I could touch her. And no way could I stand for her to touch me. He wondered if he could just give her his TV and ask her to go. I am being held hostage in my own home. Outside the room, they listened to Goku rummaging around in the fridge. “I’m just going to take the rest of this cheese. And the fish. And the oranges.” They listened to him finished off the pizza. He opened a can of soda, and Krillin hoped dimly it wasn’t one of his grape ones. Her eyes were colder than ever. They looked like slices of the sky in the summer. Krillin had no idea such a moment could be so complicated. She was paid to be here and didn’t give a damn. He wasn’t hideous and if he was terrible at this, it didn’t matter. He would never see her again. She might not even be here for that sort of thing. Simple enough. Yet, it was like a game of chess, just because nudity might be involved. You need to say something! It’s been like five minutes of you just standing there! “So, where are you from?” She looked wrong-footed. “What?” “Are you from around here?” Then she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure.” Her lipstick left a pink smudge on her cigarette. When she exhaled, she blew a perfect ring toward the ceiling. The smell would probably never come out of his curtains. Her legs were crossed and she looked oddly classy. Of course, she could have been on a street corner with that short dress, but her movements made her look like some sort of royalty in disguise. “Are you going to ask me what my name is?” Krillin swallowed. “Yes, but I guess you won’t tell me.” She nodded. “Smart enough, shrimp.” Curiously, she tucked her cigarette into a clean white baggie. Then she leaned towards him. He flinched, which only made her more suspicious. “Sorry. Uh. I. Why are you here, doing this?” “What should I say? That I’m a student and this is paying for med school?” “Ha, that would explain the nurses’ outfit.” He played with his hands. “Do you like doing this?” She uncrossed and re-crossed her legs. He had what a real nurse might call a 'cardiac episode'. “What exactly, am I doing?” Her lips reminded him of rose petals, and a thousand other clichés ran through his head. Her grip on his collar was like iron. He didn’t try to even resist when she tossed him onto the bed. His eyes closed. Despite the fact that he’d met her a half-hour earlier, Krillin was helplessly unable to not trust her. Do I close my eyes? Oh my god, oh my god, I'm going to have sex with a beautiful woman oh my god. This is so awesome. Oh my god, I can't do this. They opened long enough to see something silver flash down. He moved, instinctually. The needle missed his head by an inch and completely ruined his pillow. “Um.” This was definitely wrong. He knew that. “Damnit.” She leapt for her bag, her movements like a cat. Krillin could barely reach out and throw a lamp at her. He missed, and it shattered over her head into a hundred pieces, none of which touched her. Luckily, he had resting above his head a number of statues and toys that his friends had mocked when first seeing. Even more as the group grew older and his collection grew in size and intricacy. Even more when they found out he'd painted and put them together himself. But then, he had the last laugh even as he mourned over the hours he'd spent doing the details on them. If he'd gotten rid of them, he would never have the projectiles that would now save his life. Krillin threw one straight at her, remembering painting it and getting the blood on its weapons just the right shade. Her expression was almost amusing. It hit her arm and he nearly winced at the miniature sword that was pretty sharp. She looked insulted. Then she almost smirked. "Did you paint that thing yourself?" He threw another one. She knocked it aside with one arm, her face still without anger. It was too absurd to be angry. Krillin was able to even think this was pathetic. Her hat was still on. One hand was still buried in her bag. Hellish memories of unstoppable robots from late night movies passed through his head. “You're an unfortunate man, Goku,” her voice thickened and became husky. It shouldn’t have been nearly as lovely as it was. He threw another action figure. She ducked. “You, shrimp, shouldn’t have fucked with the Red Ribbon Army.” Krillin response was the smartest thing he could have done. “Goku!” There was a sleepy response from the living room, and she paused. “Huh? What is it Krillin?” Again, he was reminded of those movies about mechanical terrors as she slowly understood. Gears turned in the bright head. Amazingly, she didn’t continue pawing through her bag. “You’re not Goku. You pretended to be him, because you thought I would—and I wasted all this time--” Then her face became furious. The eyes darkened and a sickening thrill shot through his spine. If they had flashed red, he would not have been more horrified. “Help!” "I told you, it's not babyish to be afraid of needles!" "She's trying to kill me!" "Now, come on, they don't hurt that much." "No! She's actually trying to murder me! She's not a real nurse!" "A bad guy?" "Yes!" Goku broke down the door with one kick. Krillin could have hugged him. Instead, he settled for jumped to him and hiding behind his back. In his sweaty, shaking hands, he held another backup toy in case more ammo was needed. His friend's chest was heroically large, but it was the gun in his steady hands that reassured Krillin. It was Goku! He was saved! Then he noticed that her dress had ridden up a little more in the fight and was a little unsure of who to root for again. "Hands up!" Juuhachigou looked a little sour. "You can't think I came alone?" Someone else knocked on the front door. She raised her voice. It was a very angelic voice, and when in was alarmed, even Krillin wanted to comfort her. "Juurokugou!" "Juurokugou?" Krillin was able to process: 16? Then the front door was broken down. Later, when he got a good look at Juurokugou, he swore that the ground had really shook as he entered the doorway. When he took a few more steps in, nearly crossing half the living room in just a few steps, his shadow fell on Goku and Krillin. He was huge. He wore a green argyle sweater and double-knit brown trousers. He had a Mohawk. It was orange. The mysterious assassin looked smug. "That's Juurokugou." Juurokugou waved at her. "Juuhachigou." Krillin looked at her. "Are those codenames?" She looked a little abashed. "Not exactly." "I'm sorry." Names that were handed to you by someone else were always terrible. It was exactly why he was so glad that he was able, at night anyway, to choose and answer to a title he'd chosen. 'Chestnut' was so much worse than-- Juuhachigou sighed. "Juurokugou?" "Hmm?' His voice really did sound like a robot from the future that couldn't be stopped by gunfire. "Kill the spiky-haired one," she said. Fangs glistened between her well-shaped lips. "Leave the bald one for me." Goku scratched the back of his head, still replaying the conversation in his head while besides him his best friend grabbed another lamp and prepared for death. "Um, what exactly did I do to make you guys so angry?" Juurokugou turned to him, his face like a block of badly carved wood. "We were sent from Dr. Gero." "Who?" Krillin rubbed the spot between his eyes. "Goku, remember, the Red Ribbon Army? You just blew up their base." "Yeah, I know that. But who's Gero?" Juuhachigou threw her hands up in disgust. "Just shoot both of them Juurokugou. The retard in the head, but only cap the bald one in the knees." The giant nodded. Goku raised his gun and Krillin threw his action figure, one with sharp horns on his head, straight at the red-haired man. It bounced off, broke, and its head rolled down the living room to rest by the door. They watched its journey. Juuhachigou looked at Krillin closely for a few moments. "Which one of you is stupider?" Another person stepped through the doorway, and Krillin nearly had a heart attack. He looked at Juuhachigou closely, then back at the new guy. It wasn't just the exact straight hair, or the high, square forehead, pointed nose, or firm jaw that they had in common. They had the same blue eyes. He and Krillin looked straight at each other. The unknown familiar looking man raised a perfect eyebrow. Then he stepped carefully onto the toy's plastic head, and Krillin knew for certain that this man was not there to help them. "And that's Juunanagou." His smile was much nice, sweeter than Juuhachigou, and so much more terrible. This was the smile of a boy who put firecrackers in small animals, who delighted in setting various mailboxes on fire, and who was destined to be killed in a televised police shoot-out. That, or a high powered attorney that specialized in getting the worst criminal scum back onto the streets. He was the neighborhood terror who would grab your hapless hand and slam it into your bare forehead that wasn't really your fault because the other monks made you shave your head, and then mock you as he bruised your skull, "Why are you hitting yourself?" He was the type to pants you and then throw your trouser in a patch of poison ivy. Then he'd give you a wedgy. Atomic. "My brother." His throat was dry. "Uh. Triplets?" The blonde 'nurse' was not amused. She didn't seem like the woman to find a lot of humor in life's adventures and misadventures. Juurokugou finally spoke up. "I'm adopted." Then they all remembered that they were trying to kill each other. It was that grim voice. Krillin felt sweat sliding down his forehead. "This is almost as bad as the time we had to fight Tien." "And when I got into that fight with Yamcha." "And that time with Piccolo." "And Vegeta." "Remember when I hated you?" "You hated me?" "Everyone hates you," Juuhachigou finally snapped. Juunanagou's voice was as lifeless as Krillin had expected. "How many people have tried to kill you?" "I think it's easier to find out who hasn't." Goku suddenly sounded sad. "Even Bulma hit me with her car." With his free hand, he grabbed a handful of Krillin's shirt. "Why did you never tell me this?" "I didn't think I needed to point out how at some point everyone's hurt you. Watch the gun, man." "Chi-Chi sometimes threatens me with a pan," for once the much large man sounded thoughtful. "I didn't think she'd actually hurt me. But now I wonder. After we get married, will she try to murder me?" Krillin did his best to comfort the big guy. "Aw, Goku, Chi-Chi," he paused. "Chi-Chi's...very pretty. She's a good cook." There. He didn't even lie. Somehow, she looked even better when she was pissed off. The passion made her eyes glow, and he dearly wished this moment was not happening. If only they'd met in another way...then he could pine over her safely. In a universe where she hadn't attempted to stab him, Krillin could safely nurse a crush and do his best to keep his fantasies on the down low. On the other hand, this put all her flaws right out there. It would be harder to put her on a pedestal after seeing those slim hands nearly shove a needle into his eye. Honestly, this might have actually helped his love life. Well. He had a soft spot for her, so maybe not. But at least now they were on the same level, in a way. "It doesn't matter. You're never going to see her again." "Wait, wait." Juunanagou raised his hands. "You're getting married? I thought..." His eyes flicked to and from the two almost-hostages. Juuhachigou laughed. The bald man managed to grit something out. He was getting angry, and it was almost nice to have such a solid emotion. "We are not partners." "What? We aren't? Krillin, I thought we--" "Shut up, Goku! We are just roommates. And he's moving out to get married. To a woman." There was a yell from the hallway of the apartment. "My god, what happened? I thought this party was supposed to be tame?" It was followed by a disapproving voice. "They must have gotten drunk." Goku shivered. I should have said he was getting married to a SWAT team. Then we'd be saved. "Drunk enough to knock down the door? Alright, yeah, probably. Those idiots." The voices grew nearer. "I'm not paying for this to be fixed. Lucky Vegeta wasn't here." The twins tensed. Juurokugou was busy putting the toy back together, with one hand still focused on them. Not that it mattered exactly, since Juunanagou had a handgun resting on his hip. "Krillin? Goku? Are you two still conscious?" "Bulma! Chi-Chi! Run!" Of course they didn't. If anything, their footsteps quickened. "What? What's going on?" "Come on, I've seen you two drunk before. It's embarrassing, but not life threatening." "They're armed! People in here are trying to kill us!" "What else is new?" There was an odd click. Something, not unlike the broken head of the toy soldier in Juurokugou's ham-sized hands, rolled into the room. They had exactly long enough to see it and wonder what the hell it was before it exploded. Billowy clouds blinded them all. Besides him, Goku ran into a wall and Krillin dropped to his stomach. Any second, someone would pull a trigger and maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't hit him. Now the apartment resembled the times where Master Roshi had his poker friends over and they would all be armed with cigars. The smell of smoke would definitely be stuck in the curtains now. Somewhere ahead, Juuhachigou was coughing and it took all his will not to reach for her. He just wanted to pat her back and get her to stop, but knew that if he did, he would definitely get a bullet to the head. "Woman! What are you doing?" Vegeta's irritated scream could be heard even from the hallway and the dark clouds. And yet, Krillin felt relief. Sure, he wasn't really their friends, but he wouldn't let them die. Without Goku, who could the spiky-haired man set his weird obsession with being the best-- The coughing increased, and goddamnit, it wasn't fair. Why can't you not be here to kill us? Is that so much so ask, Kami, that a girl show up and be nice without an ulterior motive? Can't I just meet someone who isn't a psycho? Krillin crawled forward, cursing and hating himself. The smoke from here wasn't so bad, and oh Kami, you bastard, the woman (Juuhachigou, not a bad name really, it fit her in a weird way) was crouched and that damn skirt was riding up and he was the best and worst angle. Then her eyes, narrowed from the smoke but still able to see, noticed him there. The assassin followed his gaze. She looked almost amazed. Her voice cracked. "Really? You can't be serious." "I just wanted to see that you were okay!" He waved his hands before him, and thankfully she was not armed. But her lips were pulled back and she really did have sharp incisors. He wondered if it was possible to rip a man's throat out using your teeth. Juuhachigou certainly looked ready to give it a go. The smoke was disappearing. There was a click and he realized someone was cocking a gun. Someone was yelling angrily, Vegeta, and he was going to kill all of them for this stupidity, and there was a thump downstairs as the neighbors hit their brooms against the ceiling in complaint. Juuhachigou looked so angry and so vulnerable. She was nearly huddled and still, still her hair had a soft golden glow to it. Her mouth was an angry pink line and he could tell things were definitely not going to according to plan. Had she done this a lot, Krillin wondered. She was so young. There had to be a better path for her. Why couldn't she really be a premed student, just a nice young woman who was an asset to society rather than another criminal he would have to lock away? What if someone shot her? He did his best to be gentle, but she jammed a fist into his chest and knocked the breath right out of him as he grabbed her shoulders. A gun went off nearby. Krillin threw himself on top of her. They fell together, Juuhachigou onto her back, Krillin onto his stomach, which was also on her stomach as well. She was horribly warm, horribly small and firm and lovely, and when she moved against him he wanted to run into towards the gunshots. They rolled onto their side. He kept a good grip on her, half out of his mind from the contact, the rest scared that she might be hurt, and maybe a sneaky low part understood that she could work as a hostage. Her leg rubbed against his as she brought it up, and they grabbled. Her trying to get him off her, him trying to keep her from kneeing him in the groin. Someone nearby kicked his stomach, somehow, and then Juuhachigou was reaching for his neck while he was distracted. He twisted, and then she was on top of him again. The blue feline eyes were bright and frightening in her intense face. If she'd had a gun, he could image her really murdering him. In a split second Krillin did something he would always regret and drove his elbow into her throat. He wanted to take it back immediately, and couldn't resist say 'sorry' into her ear as her hair tickled him. She coughed again, right onto his head, and he grabbed her by the waist, trying to shove her off. Juuhachigou grabbed his shoulders in her surprisingly strong hands and lifted him by a good foot. She was going to smash his head in against the floorboards, he knew. Then smoke was clearing, leaving ghosts and the smell of gunpowder behind. "Alright. That's enough." Bulma loomed overhead, a blue-haired savoir goddess. An ugly grey gun was in her hand, resting nearly on the back of Juuhachigou's head. Her hair was mussed, and Krillin could image this was how she looked when she awoke in the morning. "I have another of those bombs right here, so don't even think about it." There was a gleam in his friend's eye. He could image the jokes she was thinking of. Only pity kept them from being spoken. Krillin almost wished the murderous twins (triplets?) had won. Bulma would never let him live this down. "And get off him." For a second, the blonde's grip tightened. Then they released. He dropped with a thud, equipped with new bruises and a fear of strippers. And blonde women in general. Really, maybe just women in general. Bulma heaved a sigh as Juuhachigou slid off him and nearly making him whimper. "I wonder how many times I've saved you guys." He coughed. Juuhachigou's eyes more than ever reminded him of an exotic cat. They were slightly narrowed and patient. If they gave her the slightest chance, she would get her hands on something to murder them. No. Him. "Superheroes always need a good sidekick to sometimes save the day." "Bastard. You're so lucky you have this beautiful genius to help you." "Right, right. I'll buy you a drink afterward." "You better. Now," she cleared her throat and looked at the blonde like a disobedient child. "Are you done?" There was a scathing reply on her face. But somehow, she swallowed it down and settled for looking furious. "How did you get in here, anyway? Who was stupid enough to let someone who's obviously an assassin into the apartment?" Juuhachigou looked right at him. Bulma moved her head slowly and made sure to make eye contact with Krillin. He turned away. Juurokugou was sitting on the couch, still messing with the toy and Juunanagou was as rumpled as his sister. Chi-Chi was cleaning up already, although Krillin doubted the security deposit could ever be saved at this point. Goku was staring annoyed at Vegeta. He was smarter in some ways now. "You knew exactly where I was when you pointed shot that gun, didn't you." "Of course not." But Vegeta's grin was sly. "How was I supposed to know? She just came in and acted..." A little off, but really, how could he have known she was an assassin? "She said she was..." Bulma raised an eyebrow. Took in Juuhachigou's appearance. Then she rolled her eyes. "Wait. You really thought she just came in here to give you a lap dance?" Juuhachigou made a choking noise. Juunanagou's face promised a slow death. He immediately looked away again. Krillin could have cheerfully murdered himself. He crossed his arms and tried to regain a tiny bit of his shredded and torn dignity. "It doesn't matter." "I guess not." But Bulma had something on her face that promised that they would discuss this later. "What exactly are we going to do with these three?" Krillin shrugged. "We usually just let them go." He pointed with a thumb at Vegeta, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice. He'd wanted to call the cops when the dark-haired man had broken into the apartment with his idiotic sidekick, trying to rob them, then demanding to fight Goku and claim the title of the official superhero of the city. But Goku had just laughed it off, and thrown the two down the fire escape and into the dumpster. Thus guaranteeing that Vegeta would be his nemesis. It seemed, sometime, that Krillin was the only one who actually paid attention to the comics and movies they watch for inspiration. But now, he decided not to learn his lesson. Or rather, to learn Goku's. Because that sounded less bad. He was a hero, and a hero forgave his enemies. A hero. Not a lonely guy who had an immediate crush on a pretty girl. This was also something that happened in comics, where the evil woman who kept trying to kill the hero turned a new leaf and became a love interest. Those issues normally sucked to him, but now he could get the appeal of them. As soon as they were done here, maybe he'd go reread some of them? Goku managed to keep his mind on more noble ideas. "How did you discover our identities? And our hideout?" Juunanagou snorted. "You two sort of stick out." "Gero kept a tail on you. It's hard not to notice two weirdoes in rubber suits. Especially when one goes around with an actual tail." Krillin looked accusingly at Goku. "I told you, that was a stupid idea. And they're not rubber, thank you. Rubber is too soft." "Latex?" "Nah, we passed out wearing that stuff. Now it's a reinforced plyester and cotton blend. With bulletproof armor over it." Bulma stepped in. "It's a damn fine tail, I had to design it myself. Vegeta's one is fine." "He doesn't have an identity to keep up. He's always the Prince." "Well, still. Really, you need to wear that plastic nose and put on a wig." The three assassins looked amused. Even the big one. "Really, you guys are the defenders of the city?" "That's just sad." "Did you hand paint this?" "Yeah, well you guys got your asses kicked by us, so what does that make you?" Juuhachigou expression made it clear that she would not be a love interest to this part particular hero. Even in his own fantasies, Krillin thought glumly, she would probably still step out of the panels to kick his ass. "So," she tossed back her head, pushing strands out of her face in irritation. "What do you want from us? Are you going to let us go, or call the cops?" "Why are you willing to help Gero?" Juuhachigou and her brother shared a look. "We can't say." But her brother sighed. "Maybe we should just tell them." Her voice was icy. "No." "Listen, these guys have a gun to our heads or at least a finger on the phone dial to the cops. Gero doesn't. Maybe they can become competent enough to kill the guy?" She thought things over. Her slim brows were drawn down and Krillin had a short, tiny daydream that he would never share with anyone on threat of death of simply leaning forward and kissing her forehead. oh please oh please, turn out to be nice. Although, of course she wasn't. Not really. She was obviously being blackmailed to be here, and he doubted it was out of fear someone was going to hurt a hair on her grandmother's head. The way she was prepared to pretend to be a stripper, to kill both of them, possibly with her bare hands...Juuhachigou was no saint. No matter how angelic she appeared. And still, still he would have cut off an arm for her to genuinely smile at him. I don't even like bad girls. This is so unfair. Her eyes were distant. "I wouldn't mind siccing you on Gero. Although," she looked right at Krillin, seemingly right into his soul and past it because it wasn’t all that interesting. "I have my doubts over how effective that would be." He smiled back, hoping he looked encouraging, but was aware he probably looked a fool. Quickly, as though trying to show competence, he grabbed the canister of smoke from Bulma, making her screech. "It's okay. We can protect you." Juurokugou spoke up. "This is Bulma, from Capsule Corp. She might be able to help us." Juuhachigou was debating with herself. "I'm not sure she could." Bulma's pride could remain silent no longer. "Hey, I'm sure I could. No matter what Gero did, I can take care of it. I am the president of Capsule Corp." Krillin leaned forward. "Hey, we're superheroes. That's what we're here for. To help you." "Yeah, we'll do our best." Vegeta snorted. Juurokugou finally let it go. "We have bombs planted inside us, that's why we're following Dr. Gero's commands." Vegeta looked amused, as everyone else was too busy looking horrified. "A bomb? How did you get a bomb put into you?" Juunanagou and Juuhachigou were exchanging looks. Then, like quicksilver, her hand was snatching away the smoke bomb in Krillin's hands, pulling its trigger, and throwing it straight at Vegeta. In the resulting chaos, he felt Juuhachigou walking past him, pausing to lean in long enough to plant the lightest kiss on his cheek and whisper, maliciously, "See you shrimp." He heard the three run out the front door, one of them smashed into a wall before managing to make their way out. As Vegeta and Bulma screamed at each other, and Goku got into an argument with Chi-Chi over the bachelor party and why had there been a 'stripper' there, Krillin thought, okay, maybe, maybe she’s alright... Then, crap, I'm going to have to pay for all this damage, aren't I?
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