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*Used with permission*
After a few days, things began to look up for Vegeta and Goten, as Gohan and Trunks had predicted. What they called the hell-mones were finally gone, and the way they celebrated that was no mystery. In just a few days they would be themselves again, and even Vegeta began to impatiently watch the calendar.
The only dark cloud was that Vegeta was sometimes unusually tired in the morning, as though she hadn’t had enough sleep. Though it was almost noon, she sat at the kichen table with her head propped on one hand. “Any coffee left?” she mumbled without opening her eyes.
Goten already had a cup made, which she slid in front of her. “Why so tired?”
“Your nightmares are contagious.” Listlessly she stirred the coffee, staring into it with half-opened eyes. Goten liked to discuss their dreams at length, while Vegeta preferred to forget them. She also disliked her ‘talent’ for acquiring ones that were not her own, a downside of telepathy.
“Sorry.” Goten frowned. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” Seeing the lack of importance, she added, “It’s ridiculous, like you said. Neither of us could knock up the other.” She settled before another coffee herself, knowing it would make her hyperactive.
“Probably,” Vegeta replied, more by sleepiness than by agreement.
Goten reached for her hand with a tentative smile. “Maybe a nap would help,” she suggested innocently.
“So you can give me a better reason to be tired?” Vegeta asked dryly, not missing the inspired spark in her eyes.
“If that is a challenge, I can make you forget anything,” Goten persisted, lightly tracing her palm.
“Don’t,” Vegeta protested ambiguously, of genuine fatigue. If only she hadn’t done the hand thing.
Goten withdrew hers in disappointment. “Your coffee’s getting cold,” she pointed out airily, purposefully lingering on the double entendre.
“Don’t be unfair–” Vegeta began reproachfully, when they were interrupted by the doorbell and an authorative knock.
They looked up at the unfamiliar knock. Goten stood with a ‘one minute’ sign, and walked curiously to the living room. She peeked through the eyehole, then opened the door to two police officers, a man and a woman. Feds, by their uniforms. “Yes?”
The male officer removed his hat. “Good morning, ma’am,” he greeted in a polite, official tone as they showed their badges, “Federal Police. Is this the home of… Mr. Son Goten, and Mr. Briefs-Son Vegeta?” he read from a sheet of paper.
“Yes,” Goten replied, putting on a worried expression, “Nothing’s happened to them…?”
“No, nothing like that,” the officer replied, “We just need to speak to them. Are they here?“
“I’m afraid not,” Goten replied in half-truth, thinking quickly, “They’re on vacation.” Having heard their names pronounced by official-sounding voices, Vegeta appeared and stood suspiciously beside Goten.
“Not good, Inspector,” the female officer muttered to her partner. She asked the occupants, “And, you are…?”
“Their sisters,” Goten improvised, “We agreed to look after the house. They wouldn’t do anything wrong?”
“Not that we know of,” the woman officer replied, “We think they may have been witnesses to a crime.”
“What?” Vegeta was not surprised, though they’d forgotten about that with their own problems.
The inspector took a small notebook and pen from his pocket. “Last month, on the night of Saturday the nineteenth, they were registered at a nightclub in Satan City called Club 73. We suspect it’s a front for dealing a very dangerous drug, and money laundering. We don’t suppose they told you about anything strange?”
Goten’s face was blank, an expression that came naturally to her. “No.”
“Did they act unusual, or under the influence of any drugs?” the woman inquired.
“No. They’re very athletic, and rarely even drink,” Goten replied, “That’d be several days before they left. Did you hear about anything wierd?” she asked Vegeta, who shook her head. “On TV, they just go undercover.”
“That’s just it,” the inspector explained gravely, “None of the few witnesses willing to talk, nor even our field agents remembered a thing after confirmed consumation. They’re reported to have done things they normally wouldn’t, if they didn’t lose consciousness first. There hasn’t been sufficient research done on the molecule, but even the native rainforest tribes call it ‘the forbidden plant.‘” He gave them each a card. “Give these to your brothers when they return, and tell them to call the Detective or myself if they remember anything at all.”
They nodded and accepted the cards. “I wish we could be more useful,” Vegeta commented, quite authentically.
The agents nodded. “Of course,” the inspector replied, putting his hat back on. “Have a good day, ladies.”
They watched them return to their helicopter, hearing the detective comment, “I didn’t know they had sisters.”
“Me, neither,” the inspector replied, “But according to their descriptions, I see the ressemblances.” They got into the helicopter and it lifted off the ground, blowing around grass and debris beneath it before it pivoted a few times, then flew away.
“Hmph.” Vegeta shut the door, scowling at the memory. “Something tells me our ‘brothers’ will have a very colorful story for them.”
“Very,” Goten agreed flatly, following her back in. “I guess it’ll really be too cold now,” she commented as they sat down, glancing at her mug.
Vegeta felt the mug and took a drink. “Not at all,” she said smoothly with a tired hint of a smile. She took Goten’s hand, watching her blush prettily with a small returned smile. They sat in comfortable silence, which they prized highly.
Afterward, Goten asked tentatively, “Can I try something you didn’t let me before?”
“Maybe,” Vegeta replied mysteriously. She followed Goten to the bathroom, intrigued.
Goten looked around, then motioned for her to sit on the side of the bathtub. Confused but too tired to question her, Vegeta did, watching her search around in a drawer. Finding two small objects, she stood near Vegeta with what looked like a pencil. “Look to the side… just with your eyes,” she instructed.
Vegeta complied, and Goten carefully traced the soft pencil along her eyelashes, winging it out slightly at the outer corners. She thinly blackened the lower lashline as well, concentrated until she was satisfied. Finished, she took her hands and stood her up to admire her handiwork. “I knew you’d be gorgeous,” she sighed. Placing Vegeta before the mirror, she enlaced her tightly from behind.
Vegeta studied her reflection. “You’re right, I am,” she agreed in a playfully smug tone, “Not that…“ She cringed back from the lipstick in her hand, not wanting to offend Goten, ”…but the eyes.” They looked even more striking than usual, she had to admit.
Goten beamed, pleased, and did the same to her own. She could not quit staring into Vegeta’s feline eyes, mesmerized at their accentuated exoticism, and very turned on. She spun her back around to face the mirror, unable to resist caressing her slender curves, then sliding her hands up. Vegeta refused to wear even a sports bra with just the two of them at home outside of training, and Goten loved stroking her through her shirt. Whether giving or receiving, something about it felt so special. Vegeta only shut her eyes without complaint, even when Goten pressed her squirming body against hers. On one hand, Goten thought, she was going to miss Vegeta’s feminine self, as well as her own.
Her eyes still closed, Vegeta unconsciously writhed back, groaning softly. “I knew it,” Goten voiced softly, “Tired or not, you want it as bad as me.”
Virtually trapped between Goten and the lavatory at a precise level, Vegeta’s breathing began falling hard. “Yeah? Tell me what you want,” she prompted. Goten was very good at arousing her terribly, just by saying the right things.
“Both involve ki rings,” Goten incited with a smirk, hidden in her hair.
“Tell me,” Vegeta replied, in more haste than planned. Then again, not much even could be planned at this point.
“You’re right, I love getting the strap,” Goten admitted shyly.
“Which kind?” Vegeta asked with a smirk at her turn.
“Both,” Goten replied, losing any sense of shame now, “I want you to screw me hard into the bed… or the wall… or the floor…” Basically, she wanted to be her slave, until the fair play of turnabout.
“Next,” the demi Saiyan continued in her sultry voice, “I want my ‘revenge,’ not counting what we do first. On you I like to use the strap-in… the one that slowly rotates and just as slowly goes in and out by itself. Definitely with ki rings, so there’s nothing you can do about it but fall to pieces in pleasure, again and again…”
“Goten!” Vegeta protested, already subtly trembling.
Goten reached down the front of Vegeta’s shorts to play, pleased to find her soaking wet. “You’re right,” she agreed, “It’s time.”
Vegeta tended to forget coherent speech by then, roughly dragging Goten to the bedroom. There were things of which she was sure, she thought at hearing their door close and lock. It would be more than worth it. That never changed.
Much later, in their final throes of passion when they’d made good on their promises, Vegeta was almost sure that her black khôl-smeared eyes crossed. “I think I can see through time,” she exclaimed before collapsing in sated exhaustion. Goten mumbled something in agreement before collapsing as well.
An observer would have trouble distinguishing whether the two black-eyed Saiyans had been beat up or fucked out, their borrowed clothing ripped in proper Saiyan style.
It never took them long to recover, unless sleep followed, and Vegeta deemed that this was indeed an ideal time for a nap. “I know we can get off more times as females,” she reflected in puzzled drowsiness, “But don’t you think twentytimes is… slightly exaggerating?”
“No,” Goten replied defensively, about to retort when she noticed Vegeta’s faint smile, already half asleep. Happily, she curled up beside her, thinking that it was the first time they’d kept track before joining her in sleep. She wondered if Vegeta would be up for beating their record sometime… well, another time.
One morning, Goten awoke much earlier than usual, the slits in the Venetian blinds revealing pink and mauve gradients of a cotton candy aurora sky. Tiny drops of dew from the surrounding mist beaded the window pane, and a branch of laurel swaying to the slow rhythm of a tinkling windchime outside.
Lazily Goten reached for Vegeta, her heart warming when her slender arms closed tightly around him. …Him??
Goten’s eyes opened wide, but her senses had not fooled her. Vegeta had indeed been returned to his normal form, his sleepful breathing even and oblivious.
For a moment she didn’t move, her heart thudding dully in her ears. The dreams they’d scoffed before, now showed themselves as clear as Baba’s crystal ball. As for the rest… it was barely dawn. She should probably just go back to sleep and let Mother Nature mend her error. But Vegeta had waited so long for this moment, she thought with a pang of guilt. Okay, maybe it wasn’t entirely guilt that made her lightly shake his arm.
“Vegeta?” she called softly, stroking his cheek. He opened his eyes slowly, taking her hand and closing them again. Goten pressed his palm against his cheek and whispered amusedly, “Vegeta, you’re normal again.”
Those were the magic words that fully awakened her sleeping prince. Quickly he looked down at himself and his now too small pyjamas, his hands randomly following his eyes in a confirmative reality check, followed by a triumphant grin. When he glanced up at Goten, a predatorial gaze graced his handsome features. It was gone as soon as it appeared, but it had been there, and now turned sober with the memory of their dreams.
“You haven’t changed back yet,” he stated grimly, as much to himself as to Goten.
“Give it time,” Goten counselled, with more confidence than she truly felt, “We were asleep before, too. We don’t know who changed first, or how it works.”
Vegeta looked doubtful. “But your dreams. You have some kind of psychic power.”
Goten smiled lightly. “There’s nothing supernatural about intuition. Most people just don’t listen to it.”
“Whatever. You’ve got it, and it’s manifested itself before.” He folded his arms impatiently, looking nervous.
“Hey, chill.” Goten took him in her arms, unaware of what her gentleness was doing to him. “You’re normal again, be happy. I am. Can’t we just be happy and wait?” Vegeta leaned against her shoulder, thinking about it.
Far beyond the netherworlds, the gods looked on stoicly; however, the goddess of nature was a bit consterned that the two Saiyajin had not understood that the changes they sought must both take place during their sleep. She foresaw, and shook her head. ‘Mortals… need they be told everything?’
“You’re right,” Vegeta told Goten reassuringly, decidedly having thought enough, “There’s nothing to worry about, but I think you’re the one who’s worried. Otherwise, you’d have let me sleep past dawn.”
“What do you mean?” Goten questioned at his innocently faint smile.
“Have I ever let you worry?” Laying them back on their sides, Vegeta lightly stroked her hair and back until she relaxed, falling snugly into his embrace. Being the smaller of them now, she felt safe and comfortable in a way she’d only secretly yearned for, long ago. Her eyes closed and she purred softly, feeling more than simple comfort now.
“Much better,” he voiced gently, covering her baby-soft cheeks and hair with equally soft kisses. Vegeta’s nature was secretly incredibly sensual when he let himself be, and Goten knew exactly how to bring it out. Such an act was rare on his part, but Goten was frankly too blissed out to care. She returned the unexpected affection, which unconsciously became harder and longer every time, until it officially migrated into makeout territory.
“Hey, calm down,” Vegeta admonished playfully, slowly trailing his fingers down her spine, “I know what your hormones are screaming for. It aches so bad you think you might explode, right? But remember, we agreed that’s forbidden just yet.” His calm, smooth voice contradicted his fingers expertly playing where Goten’s tail had been, making sure she felt how hard he was himself, while his free hand stroked her firm, curvy chest in guise of reassurance. Beyond his calm, innocent face, his eyes shone black with pure lust, and by now the demi Saiyan was literally trembling with an equal measure.
“You…” Goten growled menacingly through her teeth, “…are an A-1, first class, manipulative bastard!” She literally ripped his pyjamas off him, not hard to do since they were already bursting at most of the seams.
Goten’s pyjamas got torn off in a similar way during their admittedly half-hearted preliminary struggle.
Such struggles between them were as much as rainstorms that must break free from overpressured skies, they often thought. Perhaps it was why they liked rain and thunder so much.
Right then, it was a typically Saiyan mix of fighting and sex, both equally as passionate. If Goten held any doubts of unfairness this time, she was dead wrong, seeing as they, especially Vegeta, had personally experienced both sides of the proverbial fence. Foreplay up to where he went down on her had Goten falling apart, torn between screams and total silence. He’d done her so perfectly that she gladly returned the favor without being asked.
Once slowed down and calmed enough to slowly reheat each other up with no step skipped, everything clicked into place, and Goten picked up Vegeta’s thought: he wanted an experience with a female with whom he did not have to be careful, but not just any female. She, Goten, or nothing. Touched, Goten took his face in her hands for a soft kiss, her desire being to give all the love she had, but not to just anyone. He, Vegeta, or nothing.
The latter carefully spread her legs as the most precious thing he had, complaining not when Goten pointedly held up one of their cockrings. It was their personal rule: all they had, or nothing.
If either of them thought that what their vivid imaginations could do with their toys was mind-blowing, it was nothing, nothing, compared to the true heat of the real thing. Vegeta started by taking Goten on her back, already reducing her to a wanton, trembling bundle of need.
“Harder! Oh gods, yeah–ah!” The sound of her cries alone would have got him off too quickly, if not for the ring. He let her discover for herself when it was time to flip him on his back at his turn, alternating between riding him hard, and simply writhing to and fro, having found her magic position. Multiple orgasms were expected, and another time he wasn’t sure he could have stood it. But now, locked onto Goten’s mind, and somehow her whole being, he got not only his own experience, but vicariously, Goten’s as well. Anyway, Goten knew, it was what he liked; the wait, the suspense of pleasure that not only made it last longer, but made the final crescendo better than they’d have imagined.
Throughout it all, Vegeta was astonished to discover, it felt like a type of suction, like a tiny mouth deep inside her that sought to absorb his essence. They removed the ring when his need for release became too much, knowing Vegeta to be up for it again in no time.
Every conceivable position was done, and for their final time, Goten wanted it doggy style with her wrists bound in ki rings. Vegeta could slam into her slippery heat and yank her hair as hard as he wished, while a free hand reached in front to play. Goten and Vegeta both practically convulsed in ecstasy, tears of pleasure leaking from their eyes. If times before had been thunderstorms, their final time was a hurricane. They rode every last contraction until there were no more. Vegeta released her ki rings and turned her again on her back.
“You want another go?” he offered, breathless and smiling at her spaced out look.
Goten shook her head, trembling from exertion. “But stay in me, okay?” She looked up, her face reading, please.
“Sure,” Vegeta agreed with a remembering smile. He marveled at the last of her tiny contractions, which took some time to gently ebb away. Even more surprising was that she caused him to spill the last of his seed that he believed spent, groaning at the electric sensations before they could truly rest.
“I can’t believe what I’m thinking, but I’m gonna miss your girl half… maybe both of ours, I don’t know.” Something that had always perplexed him was one of many things that attracted him to Goten; a feminine quality wasn’t the term, but something possibly close.
“I know, same here.” Goten looked at him with shining, adoring eyes that spoke louder than any words. A final kiss, and for the rest of the time, they simply remained in a loose, quiet embrace. And took the expressway back to Sleepville.
The next time the two Saiyans awoke, it was well past noon, and this time it was Vegeta who shook Goten out of a sound sleep, with a radiant smile probably never seen on him before. “Goten, you’re back!” he exclaimed happily, nearly strangling him in guise of a hug.
“…Uh?” Goten mumbled sleepily, then saw what he meant. Indeed, he was back in his original male body, this time for good, with no more bad surprises. His hundred-watt grin matched Vegeta’s and he pumped his fist. “YES!” he cheered triumphantly, returning Vegeta’s strangle-hug.
“We are free… FREE!” Vegeta picked up the tattered remains of their girl-pyjamas, tossing them in the air like the confetti they now ressembled. “Do you realize, we’re no longer trapped. We can go out again!”
“We always could,” Goten reminded him, still grinning, “Besides the rest of the gang, perfect strangers wouldn’t think it was wierd to see two girls going somewhere.”
“I mean, with our pride intact,” Vegeta specified, no less elated.
“True,” Goten agreed, remembering Trunks’ comment about walking styles. “What are you doing?”
Vegeta was rummaging through their closet, tossing a set of their normal clothes onto the bed before repacking the freshly washed clothing Videl had loaned them.
“Oh.” Goten watched, hoping Videl would understand about a portion of them being destroyed and missing.
Vegeta paused with a smirk. “Well, any kicks yet?”
Goten raised a humorless eyebrow. “Brave words for someone who lost as much sleep for the same dreams.”
“You would’ve just terminated it, like most actual girls your age,” Vegeta stated dryly.
“No,” Goten replied thoughtfully, turning serious, “Not since it would be yours.” In one dream he’d seen their son, an adorable, exact mix of them both. He’d even known his name, and that they were normal again and happy, but thought it best not to mention it.
Vegeta looked at him differently, ruffling his hair with a smile. “Come on, we got stuff to do.” He’d glimpsed the vision, thinking it best not to say so.
Goten emerged with their borrowed bags, the last to be ready as usual, and tossed Vegeta his. “Okay, let’s go,” he announced.
“Finally,” Vegeta muttered impatiently, catching the bag. They’d just opened the door to leave, when they heard a strange noise from the back yard, and hesitated.
“Sounds like a chopper,” Goten commented, “Surely the cops don’t think we–” He was interrupted by a frantic knocking, at the back door. They scowled and hurried back past the training room to look outside. “Oh gods, not them,” he groaned.
Vegeta opened the door with a sharp glare at two familiar forms, with unmistakable red and pink hair beneath their hoods. “You’d better have a good excuse for showing up here,” he hissed at them, “Like the planet is on fire, or we’re invaded, which doesn’t look to be the case.”
“How did you even find us?” Goten wondered aloud. He’d removed their chips as promised, which turned out to be the Back Home™ lost pet kind, and Vegeta had destroyed them.
“Your registration forms,” Jordan reminded them flatly, “It took us three days to get here, not counting finding it. You said you didn’t live far.”
“Well, you’re either brave or not too smart showing up here,” Goten pointed out.
“Can we come in to tell you?” Ashley insisted, looking behind them as though pursued by the devil himself.
The Saiyans stood aside, watching them suspiciously. “My guess would be desperate,” Goten commented, “Do you know the feds are after you?”
“Yeah no shit, why do you think we’re here?” Jordan demanded in panic, stopping short. “Wait, you’re normal again. How?” They stared at them questioningly.
“The matter was resolved.” Vegeta folded his arms impatiently. “Well?”
“How do you know about the feds?” Ashley asked, still looking back out the window.
“They were here last week looking for witnesses,” Goten told them dryly, “But our ‘long lost sisters’ were clueless.”
“Thanks for covering us,” Ashley replied with a sigh of relief.
“We didn’t cover you, we covered ourselves,” Vegeta informed them sternly.
“Fair enough,” Jordan conceded. They removed their hooded jackets, conspicuously too warm for the weather.
“You cut your hair?” Goten asked. Ashley’s was square cut just above her shoulders, and Jordan’s was gelled in long spikes with two mid-length pigtails. Their glittery attire was traded for plain, torn jeans and T-shirts.
“No, those were extensions,” Ashley replied, pacing restlessly, “About why we’re here?”
“Make it quick,” Vegeta snapped crossly, “We were about to leave.”
“We need a new stash for the goods,” Jordan told them, to the point, “A taupe bailed on us.”
Goten looked out the window at their helicopter, indeed a cargo model. “You brought your dope here?”
Vegeta kicked the door open, pointing a stern finger that held a glowing ball of ki. “I suggest you leave now, before I take it all off your hands in my way.” His voice was unnaturally calm, and he blew a large nearby boulder to dust, just a few feet from their helicopter.
The two girls paled, taking a step back. “What are you?!” Ashley blurted out, several mysterious aspects of them rushing back to mind.
“People with direct phone numbers, and clear memories that would be believed,” Goten reminded them, “I assume your parents know nothing about your night jobs?”
“Dunno if people in the afterlife can see what happens on Earth,” Ashley reflected, still staring at the dusty cloud where the large boulder had stood.
“Our parents were killed in that wierd tsunami when we were about seven,” Jordan explained at their inquisitive looks, “What they left us in their wills didn’t get us past first year, so the stuff covers our tuition. We were raised by our aunts and uncles; from the same family, but no blood relation.”
“Like us,“ Goten reflected, “Sorry to hear that.” He frowned, glancing furtively at Vegeta. /I thought everyone killed by Majin Buu was brought back./
/They were./ Vegeta also frowned. Tsunami? Earthlings’ memories of the entire incident were erased, and there had been no tsunami at that time. It must have been what they were told by their families, they concluded. Aloud, Vegeta asked, “Where were you when the tsunami hit?”
“Both at Hercule Satan’s tournament,” Ashley replied, “My cousin was a participant, but there was a delay. That’s all we remember.”
Goten nodded, seeking out Vegeta’s thought for clarification, but hit a void.
/Vegeta?/ But the latter was shut off within his own mind, and Goten knew better than to insist.
After a few dark minutes of silent thought, Vegeta told them, “You’ll need a larger area, that would never be suspected. We know a place in West City.”
The girls looked up, torn between relief and confusion. “Well, thank you,” Jordan replied carefully, “But, a few minutes ago… and a month ago… you looked like you wanted to kill us. I see why, and it would just look like a drug deal gone bad. Why do you suddenly agree to help us?”
“We could also wonder why you came here,” Goten settled, disappearing and returning with two baseball hats. “These make a better disguise. Nobody wears jackets in this weather.” He went to lock the front door and returned, the four of them leaving by the back.
Vegeta pointed at the helicopter. “Just get in and sit,” he told them, “We can get you there in a few minutes.”
The girls did as they were told, wondering if hallucinating whilst perfectly sober were possible as they watched the two Saiyans fly the engine with one hand each at the speed of a sonic jet. Finally, they agreed to just stop asking questions.