Author's note: Minor lemon warning ;) I tried not to make it all gross, and I hope nobody is offended. And if you really want to know how someone and someone else accomplished the "act", to visit Sara Piccolo's page(I don’t remember the URL :( ), because it has a rather interesting essay.

A lot of noise and yelling faded into the night air as a wild-haired form and a small green form flopped down onto their backs in the middle of a large room with a red floor. Both forms were exhausted, sweating and breathing hard. Both forms were bruised up a bit. Both had given everything they had in that spar.

That damn kid is more powerful then he looks! Everything we do comes out as a tie. Vegeta thought to himself. Piccolo certainly trains him well. He can be such an asshole, but at least he pays any attention at all to his kid. Feh. My father hardly even looked at me. He pushed the thoughts out of his mind and turned his head to the little Namek next to him.

Tategoto had already stopped panting and was breathing normally again as he turned his black eyes to Vegeta and grinned. Another tie. He signed.

"Don't get all smug now. That's my job, Badass." Vegeta smirked, crossing his arms while still lying on his back. 'Badass' was his nickname for the little Namek, though he often said 'kid'. He rarely did say the boy's name. Tategoto sat up and assumed the meditation position that his father took, smirking a bit himself because he had a surprise for Vegeta. The Saiyan raised a thick eyebrow at the child, "What? What are you staring at now?"

Tategoto giggled, then concentrated on feeling that vibration in his throat and making his mouth move properly. "Vedjah-teh." He managed to utter, his voice sounding almost like someone were plugging his nose. After all, a person's language is what shapes the palate in their mouth and the shape is what creates a person's accent. Since Tategoto's palate didn't really have much shaping, it made his voice sound very strange. But what he'd said could be understood. Barely.

Vegeta sat up as if someone had jabbed him in the back with a hot poker, his eyes wide. "Did you just say my name?! Or was I hearing things?"

Tategoto laughed at the Saiyan's shocked expression. I talked. He signed slowly, I want to learn how to so I can do it as good as I can talk with my hands. Not everybody talks with their hands, after all.

"You've got a point, kid." Vegeta commented under his breath, making sure Tategoto could see his face to read his lips. Then he smirked and got down on his back, assuming a sit-up position, looking over at Tategoto. "You up for more?"

Tategoto immediately flopped onto his back with his hands behind his head and nodded, the material of his cape rustling as he wiggled to straighten the wrinkles out. He and Vegeta both started to do rapid sit-ups, moving as if synchronized as occasional gasps or loud exhalations started to punctuate the silence.

Angry footsteps stomped to the door, and moments later, a shadow fell over Vegeta and Tategoto. "VEGETA!!!!!! TATEGOTO!!!!"

"Shit!" Vegeta lost his concentration and fell on his back right as Tategoto completed another full sit-up. The young Namek was obviously not aware that Bulma was there.

"Hah!" Tategoto pumped his fist into the air as he fell onto his back, panting. I won! "Ack!" He felt fingers grab onto his pointed ear and drag him to his feet. A messy-haired, bathrobe-clad Bulma glared down at him, and Vegeta was glaring at her from his spot by the gravity machine. Tategoto just kinda smiled innocently in an 'I didn't do it' way, then dove between her legs and dashed outside with such speed that he was little more then a green and white blur.

"Hey!" Bulma screamed as a scowling Vegeta leap-frogged over her and dashed out as well.

"Clean your own damn floor, Woman!" He called back sharply, grabbing Tategoto's arm and hopping up onto the roof of the gravity room. Then he peeked over the edge to find Bulma looking around for them. She finally threw her arms up, muttered something and walked into the house to go to bed.

Tategoto put his hands over his mouth and giggled some more, imitating Bulma's angry expression. Vegeta's thick eyebrows drew together as he snickered, held out his hand and said, "Good work, kid. We need to harass her like that more often." He smirked as Tategoto slapped his outstretched hand, then held his hand out so Vegeta could slap it back. Afterwards, the wild-haired Saiyan crossed his arms and took on his usual smug, scowling smirk.

Yawning more then laughing, Tategoto signed, I'm tired. I'll just go inside and sleep for awhile until my father shows up. He walked to the edge of the roof and prepared to leap down, but before doing so, he turned and signed, That was fun! Now I have a secret. He waited for Vegeta to nod to show he was understanding before continuing, You're my best friend. Good night! Tategoto grinned, hopped off the roof and crept into the house, leaving Vegeta there speechless.

After fifteen or so minutes had passed, Vegeta hopped off the roof, did a front flip and landed on his feet with the grace and silence of a ninja. He held his head high and pranced into the house like he owned everything inside with only one thing on his mind. Food. After getting himself a massive tuna sandwich and wolfing it down, he headed into the living room where Tategoto was sound asleep on the couch, sitting up like his father often did. Seeing the child like that, the arrogance left Vegeta's face for a few seconds as he reached over and pushed Tategoto over so he'd lay down.

The little Namek didn't even break the soft rhythm of his breathing as he tumbled over to rest on his side, the overstuffed arm of the couch serving as a pillow. His turban came halfway off, so Vegeta reached down and carefully removed it, laying it on the floor where it would be easily found. Then he reached his hand to the back of the couch and plucked the knitted orange blanket that Chichi had made to "decorate" the couch a little. It was just the right size to cover Tategoto, which Vegeta did with awkward gentleness.

Tategoto grunted in his sleep when Vegeta got up, and his small green antennae twitched as he dreamed. Vegeta hesitantly reached his hand down and brushed the tiny appendages back, stopping a moment to look at what he was doing. His tan, callused hand contrasted against the smooth green skin of the little Namekian's scalp, which felt much softer and warmer then it looked. The feel of Tategoto's soft skin caused the corner of Vegeta's mouth to curl slightly upwards into what may have been a smile. He sure does look like Piccolo… Is this what it's like to have a child? He wondered silently, now that nobody would know he was thinking. I kill worlds and he calls me his best friend. Heh. His black eyes lowered to the little green face, which had the innocence of youth still woven into every feature. Lean and stubby at the same time, his little hands grasped the edges of his cape, the fingers flexing and relaxing intermittently in their own rhythm. Steadily, the small chest rose and fell, soft sighs following each downwards motion.

Drawing his hand back slowly, Vegeta stood up and spoke in a quiet tone that was just a hair above a whisper, "You're my best friend too, kid." Surprised at his own words, the Saiyan Prince backed away from the couch and disappeared down the hall to get some sleep.

Thick steam, white and billowing, filled the entire room and condensed on the sliding doors that led into the shower/bath combination. Everything seemed deathly still and silent, save for the occasional sound of water dripping. Then, all of a sudden, a large green hand with pointed white nails emerged from the steam, pressed itself against the glass and slid down the smooth surface, leaving a handprint streak that wiped away some of the condensation. A slender brown hand slowly joined the green one, pressing gently against it as the slender fingers caressed the larger ones.

Yasmine was trembling slightly, her dark skin seeming darker because she was flushed, and her rapid soft breathing seemed to reverberate off the walls. She slowly straightened, her sparkling dark eyes opening as she looked over at the muscular green figure before her.

Piccolo's head was still back, his neck looking much longer then it really was and his Adam's apple was standing out prominently above his collarbones. His wonderful pectoral muscles rose and fell as he breathed in slow, deep breaths, taking his time before finally opening his endlessly black eyes.

So powerful…this feeling…Piccolo thought silently as he took his hand away from the shower door and sat up again properly. If I had known, I'd never have stopped her that first time…

"Piccolo?" Yasmine whispered quietly.

"Yeah?" He replied in his usual raspy voice.

"Are you OK?"

Slowly, the Namekian nodded his head yes and stood up like nothing happened, droplets of water and clumps of glittery white bubbles running off his lower body as he pushed aside the shower door and climbed out. For a moment or two, Piccolo stood there so the rest of the water could drip off his long legs. His legs were surprisingly lean, but full of muscle just like the rest of him; after all, Piccolo's muscles didn't all bulk up unless he powered up. Even still, he didn't look like a little stick either. Not by a long shot.

Inadvertently, he was giving Yasmine a great view of his rear end, and she giggled quietly, then more when he turned to see what she was laughing at. It gave her a second to notice that whatever he'd had between his legs a few seconds ago was no longer visible. In it's place was a pink patch much like on his arms and legs. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing." Yasmine said as she stepped out of the tub, her brown feet slapping against the tile floor. She brushed her hair back and gave a brief glimpse of her athletic figure, smirking to herself when she saw Piccolo shoot a single glance her way.

Huffing to himself, Piccolo glanced at her long, slender, slightly muscular chocolate brown legs, shapely hips and small round breasts. Now what the hell am I doing that for? He shook his head, turned on his heel and headed out into the bedroom. The tall Namekian was starting to climb into his clothes when he noticed a pair of round, white button like eyes peering out at him from the shadows. "Mr. Popo?"

The black genie slowly emerged from the shadows, the blue gem on his white turban shimmering slightly in the light. "There's no time to waste. Kami is in danger…"

Yasmine came out of the bathroom wearing her black robe and dragging a comb through her wet hair, which was dripping glittering droplets from the ends. "What the!?" She cried when she saw Popo. "What the hell is that!? How the hell did he get in my house!?!!!"

Mr. Popo's expression didn't change as his round red mouth moved to form, "I am not a thing. I am Popo." He turned his round face to Piccolo and blinked his white button-like eyes once, then started to speak, "Garlic Jr. is back, and he has Kami…" He went on to explain about how every thousand years, the planets line up in such a pattern that allows the Dead-zone portal to weaken enough for a strong person to escape. Since Garlic was immortal and powerful, he escaped with his son, who had been "born" while they were trapped. The kid was powerful, and thus was able to survive the journey.

"Kami? Garlic Jr.?" Yasmine waved her comb in the air once, "Hel-lo? Would somebody kindly explain what is going on?" She stopped and put her hands on her hips, her brown forehead wrinkling as she frowned.

Fifteen minutes later, Yasmine sat down hard on her bed, having just had a whole lot of stuff about Dragon Balls, Kami's life history and little demons that wanted to conquer the world all crammed into her ears and mind. Piccolo finished getting dressed while Popo just stood there like a statue, patiently waiting. Yasmine got dressed as well, and slung a duffel bag over her shoulder.

"Yasmine? What are you doing?" Piccolo asked as he settled his cape over his shoulders.

"I’m coming with you." She replied boldly.

"ARE YOU NUTS!!!!?" The Namekian's eyes nearly popped out of his head and he nearly did a nose-dive right there. "Garlic and his little cronies could kill you with a thought!" He realized what he was saying and added on, quickly composing himself, "Besides, you'd only get in the way."

"He could kill you too just as easily, I bet." Yasmine retorted, pushing her hair over her shoulder and letting it slap against her back. Mr. Popo's gaze shifted briefly to her, then back to Piccolo before he turned and went into the living room to wait. "Piccolo, I just can't stand here and watch you go face that guy alone."

"I won't be alone. I'm going to get Tategoto and take him with me." His voice rumbled through the room.

"He's just a kid!" She cried.

"A kid with a lot of power." Piccolo added in, turning to face Yasmine slowly with his arms crossed and his face a stoic mask. "This is what I teach him to fight for. To face dangers like this. You know who Gohan is right?" When she nodded, he continued, "Well he was Tategoto's age and when Garlic Jr. first showed up, and was the person that ended up defeating him. And aside from that, Vegeta will probably end up coming too, so that'll add even more power."

Speechless, Yasmine watched Piccolo grab the corner of his cape and sweep it around himself as he turned, the white fabric rustling as it settled against his back. Finally finding her voice again, she said, "Hey Piccolo?" She paused, "Be careful OK? I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you or Tategoto."

Piccolo half-turned to face her with deadly seriousness on his face. His black eyes sparkled, visible even in the shadows. "You can bet on it." With a sweep of his cape, the tall Namekian gracefully turned and loped out of the bedroom to meet Mr. Popo, who was standing on a carpet that seemed to be floating. He turned to Yasmine and flashed a few brief sign-language gestures, almost as if he didn't want Popo to know what he was saying. I promise you that I will return. Then he turned again, walked out the door and flew away, following Mr. Popo.

Yasmine smiled briefly as she walked to the doorway to watch him go. Piccolo and Mr. Popo were only specks in the distance, and in a few more seconds, they disappeared. Sighing, she leaned on the doorframe, some of her sable hair falling across her forehead.

A sudden raspy snicker broke the silence, startling Yasmine. "So touching…" There was a yellow flash of light, and Yasmine felt her entire body go numb as she slid down the edge of the doorframe and crumpled into a brown heap on the floor. "I hope you don't mind if I take you along…for fun."

"Ungh…" She moaned, her consciousness growing dark. In a few seconds, her eyes rolled up into her head and closed. The sound of fingers snapping came from the shadows, and a red figure that looked a lot like a six foot tall Saibaman with a humanoid face, long white hair that moved with a life of its own and a thin, two foot long purple horn growing from the middle of his forehead dropped down a hole he had just made in the ceiling. The garish red figure picked Yasmine up carefully with his four fingered hands, then looked to the person in the shadows and grinned, flashing needle sharp yellow teeth.

Raspy laughter echoed out of the shadows as the person there tossed their head back. When the person did that, the light briefly shimmered off a blood red jewel.