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Chapter 13: Dating Start!

Yamcha let out a frustrated groan as his pleasant sleep was interrupted by the blaring of his phone’s ringtone. He squeezed his eyes tightly closed, stubbornly determined not to answer it and go right back to sleep. There was no one he could think of that he desperately needed to take a call from right now. Whatever it was, it could go to voicemail and wait for later.

Hardly a moment after his phone sank into merciful silence, however, it started right back up again. With a growl of reluctance, he reached over to the bedside dresser, fishing blindly for the damnable device. Once he found the thing, he peeked at the screen with one eye, quickly looking over the caller ID. His brow furrowed instantly.

“It’s Bulma… What the hell does she want this early in the morning?”

“It’s really not that early, but… Do you really care enough to answer right now?” came Piccolo’s groggy voice from just behind his head. Yamcha tended to agree with the sentiment, merely turning his phone to vibrate and tossing it back onto the dresser. He then snuggled into the warmth resting along the length of his back, smiling lightly as an arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him close, Piccolo’s breath warming his shoulder as he nuzzled his face against the back of the former bandit’s neck.

Yamcha was perfectly content to remain just like that for the next few hours, but it seemed Bulma had other plans. After the phone buzzed across the dresser for five solid minutes, he let out another growl and reluctantly left his lover’s embrace to sit up.

“She’s persistent today, isn’t she?” Piccolo commented, more curious to know what was going on than annoyed that he’d been woken up like that. The Namekian didn’t sit up just yet, giving Puar a chance to sleepily slink her way from her perch on his hip to curl up in his lap. He rubbed her gently behind the ears, earning him a happy purr as he watched his boyfriend fuss over his phone. Yamcha eventually let out a sigh of defeat.

“I’d better answer it… If this goes on much longer, she’ll triangulate the location of my damn phone and find her way up here.”

“Yeah, I’m not exactly what you’d call ‘tech savvy,’ but I’m pretty sure that’s not how phones work.”

“Oh, trust me, she’ll find a way to make it work…” he grumbled out before finally biting the bullet and answering the call. “Hello?”

“WHO IS SHE?!!!”

Yamcha let out a startled yelp, holding his phone out at arm’s length to keep that banshee shriek from blowing out his eardrum. Piccolo didn’t even need his superior hearing to overhear that, instantly bursting into a laughing fit that he quickly tried to stifle with his hand. That reaction alone brought an amused smile to Yamcha’s face, though he resisted the urge to laugh as well. Instead, he brought his phone just close enough to his head that it would pick up on his voice.

“Uhh… Who?”

“Oh, don’t you play dumb with me! I know all about your little escapades! I found the files you had my dad look up for you! A little family research project for a ‘friend,’ huh?! Yeah, right! The only kind of friend you’d bend over backwards like that for is some bimbo you’re trying to impress!”

“I dunno, he bends over just fine for me,” Piccolo snarked under his breath between badly suppressed snickers. Yamcha shoved the Namekian’s shoulder lightly with his free hand, whispering a quick “sh-shut up!” before having to bite his lip to keep from laughing himself. Luckily their exchange hadn’t been loud enough for the phone to pick up on it, and Bulma continued on her rant.

“Dad also told me about that date you were bragging about on New Year’s Eve! And when I went to your apartment, they said you’d moved out! What, it only takes you three months of tail to go move in with some… some… some Russian hussy?!”

That last bit was more than either of them could handle with a straight face. Piccolo could no longer stifle himself, falling back into his pillow and laughing aloud. Yamcha was too busy covering his own mouth to keep his own laughter from escaping to try and quiet his partner. It would have been too late anyway. This time, they couldn’t keep Bulma from overhearing.

“Shut up, Piccolo! This has nothing to do with you!” she shouted out over the phone, to which he could only laugh harder. She then let out a growl of frustration before seemingly coming to a conclusion. “Oh my God, you’re in on this, aren’t you?! You’ve known about this little whore the whole time and didn’t tell me about it!”

“I mean, I guess I’d be lying if I said ‘no,’” Piccolo managed to gasp out between giggling fits. Finally, Yamcha managed to compose himself enough to step in.

“Why would he need to tell you who I’m seeing anyway? I mean, you did dump me almost two years ago.”

Bulma’s reply seemed to catch in her throat at that, and she spent the next few moments blurting out partial sentences and cutting them off abruptly. Yamcha’s smile seemed to fade a bit at that. Well, this was a bit surreal. Before now, it had always been he who had to deal with unresolved feelings about their failed relationship. Now that the tables seemed to have turned… He wasn’t sure he liked it. Finally, Bulma seemed to have found her fire again, saving him from having to discuss the awkwardness.

“Alright, you know what? You don’t have to tell me anything. I’m sure we’ll all get the answers we want when you bring her to our cherry blossom viewing party. You do remember that’s today, right?”

“O-of course I remember!” he retorted, though it was fairly obvious to everyone involved that he’d completely forgotten.

“Good! I’ll see you two there, then!” and with that, she hung up before Yamcha reply.

He found himself staring down at his phone for a while after the call ended. After a bit, he turned to look back at Piccolo. He’d long since recovered from his bout of laughter, and was now staring back at him with a look of mild concern.

“You alright?”

Yamcha blushed lightly at that. It was impossible to hide anything from the ever-perceptive alien warrior. He’d always been able to read him like a book. He must have picked up on his discomfort there at the end of his conversation with Bulma. The former bandit responded by flashing him a soft smile.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” he replied before holding up his phone. “So, looks like we’ve been invited out somewhere, and I don’t think she’ll take no for an answer. You wanna go?”

“Sure. We can make a date of it,” Piccolo responded, taking a moment to stretch now that going back to bed was out of the question. “Far be it for me to let someone get away with calling me a whore without me hitting back.”

“Hey now, don’t go starting fights my ex. Shit like that never ends well.”

The Namekian couldn’t help but flash a sly smirk at that.

“Please, when have I ever been anything but a perfect gentleman?”

_________________

A few hours later, the two of them found themselves walking down a path that wound its way through the large park on the outskirts of West City. The grass was covered in a blanket of light pink flower petals, all fallen from the many sakura trees scattered about. There was no shortage of people in the park today, with many groups already populating choice spots beneath the trees.

The pair made their way past the gathering families and friends, and Yamcha tried his best to ignore the stares they got as they passed. He wasn’t sure how Piccolo could stand it; always being gawked at like that. Perhaps he couldn’t. Perhaps it was just another thing he’d learned to keep buried deep inside. He grasped the Namekian’s hand, which seemed to flinch lightly at his touch as though he’d been startled. So, it did still bother him…

“Hey, wouldn’t be much of a date if we didn’t at least hold hands, right?” Yamcha explained, flashing his partner a goofy grin. He wasn’t ashamed to be seen with him like that, and he wanted him to know it. Piccolo stared down at him for a moment, his eyes searching Yamcha’s face as though trying to read his intentions. Whatever he decided, it brought a serene smile to his face.

“Sure, if you’re a ten-year-old,” he teased lightly, looking away before the violet blush on his face became too obvious. Even so, he embraced Yamcha’s hand in his own without further hesitation.

Soon enough, the two of them arrived at the portion of the park that had been reserved for use by the Briefs family. It was a beautiful area, right beneath the largest sakura tree in the park. It seemed the party had already started without them. Master Roshi was already well into the sake supply, and he could be heard shouting come-ons at any young lady that happened too close to the group. A small stage had been set up under the tree, whereupon the obligatory karaoke machine had been set up. Thankfully, no one was making use of it just yet, but Yamcha was sure that would change once more guests got some alcohol in them.

Speaking of guests… Yamcha stopped in his tracks halfway up the hill, staring at the figure that stood at Krillin’s side. The straight blonde hair, the ice blue eyes, the petite frame… There was no mistaking the foreboding presence of Android 18. Yamcha felt his blood run cold, his entire body going rigid with fear. What the hell was she doing there?! Piccolo seemed apprehensive as well, releasing Yamcha’s hand as though to be ready should he need to fight.

Soon enough, the two of them were noticed. Krillin’s smile seemed to widen when he spotted them, eagerly waving them over. The pair was understandably hesitant, as the diminutive monk was standing right next to the murderous beauty that was 18, but they eventually made their way up the gentle slope of the hill to join the rest of the group.

“Hey guys, how’s it going?” Krillin asked cheerily, that wide grin of his never disappearing from his face. Yamcha couldn’t hold himself back long enough to return the greeting, instead leaning down to whisper to the shorter martial artist.

“What the hell is she doing here?!” he asked urgently, trying to keep his voice low enough so that the subject in question couldn’t overhear. Krillin looked up towards Android 18, who seemed to be having a silent stare down with Piccolo at the moment. He then looked back to Yamcha with a lopsided smirk.

“Oh, well… I invited her. She’s my date.”

“What?!” Yamcha blurted out, completely forgetting to keep his voice down. “Y-you’re dating an android?!”

“Hi Pot, meet Kettle,” Piccolo commented towards his partner, though his eyes never left the icy stare of 18’s bright blue eyes. Yamcha let out a nervous laugh at that. Yeah, he supposed he didn’t really have any room to talk about other people’s choices in dates, did he? Still, she’d been out to kill them all less than a year ago, and now she and Krillin were a thing all of a sudden? He’d never seen a faster heel-turn in his life!

“Oh yeah! Speaking of which…” Krillin interjected, bringing Yamcha back to the moment at hand. “Bulma’s been going around ranting about you having a new girlfriend. So, who’s the lucky lady? You bring her along?”

That line of questioning made Yamcha’s face heat up in an instant. He straightened up, letting out another nervous laugh as he scratched idly at the back of his head.

“Y-yeah, about that, uhhh…” he began, unsure how to even broach the subject. He gave a sideways glance towards Piccolo, but he didn’t even get the chance to see his reaction to the question when yet another person interjected themselves into the conversation.

“Alright, where is she?” came Bulma’s voice from just behind him. Yamcha jumped lightly in surprise, turning around to come face to face with the blue-haired scientist. She was looking up at him with that suspicious look on her face, her hands set on her hips.

“What’s wrong? Got second thoughts about everyone meeting your new fling? Or did she dump you already?” she teased with an almost malicious smirk. Yamcha stammered through an incoherent reply, tripping over his words in his inability to form a satisfactory answer in the face of his ex. Luckily, Piccolo took notice of his struggles and stepped in.

“Hi. I’m the ‘Russian hussy.’ Nice to meet you,” he said with the sort of straight-faced sarcasm that made you wonder whether he was joking or not. Bulma merely stared up at him for a long moment before bursting into laughter.

“Hah! Nice try! All joking aside, though… Where is she?”

At that reply, Piccolo bent down to get a little closer to eye-level with the obnoxious woman, staring her down with a deathly serious expression until her laughter quickly tapered out.

“I assure you; I do not joke about such things.”

The retort was spoken so low and calmly, yet at the same time Yamcha could see the color drain from Bulma’s face as she stared up at the alien towering over her, her eyes going wide. She opened her mouth to say something, but once she found herself incapable of finding her words, she quickly shut it again. Fortunately, it seemed Krillin was not struck with such stunned silence.

“W-wait… You mean… You?! And… A-and Piccolo?!” the shorter man stammered out in utter disbelief, his wide-eyed stares flicking between the two in question. Yamcha replied with a shaky laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Y-yeah, it’s pretty wild, right? Trust me, I wasn’t expecting it either, but I guess that’s just how it goes sometimes!”

Suddenly, Yamcha felt himself being tugged downward by the side of his jacket until he was bent over far enough for Krillin to whisper in his ear.

“Hey, so… How does that work with him? I mean… you guys have, like… ‘done it,’ right?”

At that, Yamcha’s face went beet red with embarrassment. How the hell was he supposed to answer something like that?!

“W-well, It’s, uhh… It’s kinda like…” he paused for a moment to clear his throat, unsure how he should explain that sort of thing in public. Luckily, he wouldn’t be left to flounder on his own for much longer.

“Alright, first of all, I can hear you. Second; why is that always the first thing anyone asks about Namekians when it comes to this sort of thing? You never saw any of us asking how you humans procreate, did you?”

At that, Krillin could only blush lightly and glance away towards his own date. Android 18, to her credit, looked more amused than anything at the situation, looking up to Piccolo with a small smirk.

“Well, here I was afraid I’d be the strangest date anyone brought along, but this definitely tops me. Thanks for taking all the awkward staring away from me, at least.”

“My pleasure,” Piccolo replied casually, and with that it seemed all that had happened between the two of them prior to the Cell Games was water under the bridge. It was clear that 18 meant no harm to any of them, and so long as it stayed that way Piccolo was content with her presence there.

In the meantime, Yamcha made his way back over to where Bulma still stood, frozen like a statue.

“Uhh… Bulma? You okay?” he asked softly, waving a hand in front of her face. Her eyes continued to stare straight forward in utter shock, looking right through him as though he wasn’t there at all.

“I-it… It all makes sense now…” she squeaked out, her voice barely audible. Finally, her eyes seemed to focus on him once more. She then grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, shaking him back and forth. “How did I not see it before?! That’s why you were always afraid of women! And why you could never keep a girlfriend! Oh my God, why is my gay-dar so baaaad?!”

Description
Chapter 13: Dating Start!

Yamcha let out a frustrated groan as his pleasant sleep was interrupted by the blaring of his phone’s ringtone. He squeezed his eyes tightly closed, stubbornly determined not to answer it and go right back to sleep. There was no one he could think of that he desperately needed to take a call from right now. Whatever it was, it could go to voicemail and wait for later.

Hardly a moment after his phone sank into merciful silence, however, it started right back up again. With a growl of reluctance, he reached over to the bedside dresser, fishing blindly for the damnable device. Once he found the thing, he peeked at the screen with one eye, quickly looking over the caller ID. His brow furrowed instantly.

“It’s Bulma… What the hell does she want this early in the morning?”

“It’s really not that early, but… Do you really care enough to answer right now?” came Piccolo’s groggy voice from just behind his head. Yamcha tended to agree with the sentiment, merely turning his phone to vibrate and tossing it back onto the dresser. He then snuggled into the warmth resting along the length of his back, smiling lightly as an arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him close, Piccolo’s breath warming his shoulder as he nuzzled his face against the back of the former bandit’s neck.

Yamcha was perfectly content to remain just like that for the next few hours, but it seemed Bulma had other plans. After the phone buzzed across the dresser for five solid minutes, he let out another growl and reluctantly left his lover’s embrace to sit up.

“She’s persistent today, isn’t she?” Piccolo commented, more curious to know what was going on than annoyed that he’d been woken up like that. The Namekian didn’t sit up just yet, giving Puar a chance to sleepily slink her way from her perch on his hip to curl up in his lap. He rubbed her gently behind the ears, earning him a happy purr as he watched his boyfriend fuss over his phone. Yamcha eventually let out a sigh of defeat.

“I’d better answer it… If this goes on much longer, she’ll triangulate the location of my damn phone and find her way up here.”

“Yeah, I’m not exactly what you’d call ‘tech savvy,’ but I’m pretty sure that’s not how phones work.”

“Oh, trust me, she’ll find a way to make it work…” he grumbled out before finally biting the bullet and answering the call. “Hello?”

“WHO IS SHE?!!!”

Yamcha let out a startled yelp, holding his phone out at arm’s length to keep that banshee shriek from blowing out his eardrum. Piccolo didn’t even need his superior hearing to overhear that, instantly bursting into a laughing fit that he quickly tried to stifle with his hand. That reaction alone brought an amused smile to Yamcha’s face, though he resisted the urge to laugh as well. Instead, he brought his phone just close enough to his head that it would pick up on his voice.

“Uhh… Who?”

“Oh, don’t you play dumb with me! I know all about your little escapades! I found the files you had my dad look up for you! A little family research project for a ‘friend,’ huh?! Yeah, right! The only kind of friend you’d bend over backwards like that for is some bimbo you’re trying to impress!”

“I dunno, he bends over just fine for me,” Piccolo snarked under his breath between badly suppressed snickers. Yamcha shoved the Namekian’s shoulder lightly with his free hand, whispering a quick “sh-shut up!” before having to bite his lip to keep from laughing himself. Luckily their exchange hadn’t been loud enough for the phone to pick up on it, and Bulma continued on her rant.

“Dad also told me about that date you were bragging about on New Year’s Eve! And when I went to your apartment, they said you’d moved out! What, it only takes you three months of tail to go move in with some… some… some Russian hussy?!”

That last bit was more than either of them could handle with a straight face. Piccolo could no longer stifle himself, falling back into his pillow and laughing aloud. Yamcha was too busy covering his own mouth to keep his own laughter from escaping to try and quiet his partner. It would have been too late anyway. This time, they couldn’t keep Bulma from overhearing.

“Shut up, Piccolo! This has nothing to do with you!” she shouted out over the phone, to which he could only laugh harder. She then let out a growl of frustration before seemingly coming to a conclusion. “Oh my God, you’re in on this, aren’t you?! You’ve known about this little whore the whole time and didn’t tell me about it!”

“I mean, I guess I’d be lying if I said ‘no,’” Piccolo managed to gasp out between giggling fits. Finally, Yamcha managed to compose himself enough to step in.

“Why would he need to tell you who I’m seeing anyway? I mean, you did dump me almost two years ago.”

Bulma’s reply seemed to catch in her throat at that, and she spent the next few moments blurting out partial sentences and cutting them off abruptly. Yamcha’s smile seemed to fade a bit at that. Well, this was a bit surreal. Before now, it had always been he who had to deal with unresolved feelings about their failed relationship. Now that the tables seemed to have turned… He wasn’t sure he liked it. Finally, Bulma seemed to have found her fire again, saving him from having to discuss the awkwardness.

“Alright, you know what? You don’t have to tell me anything. I’m sure we’ll all get the answers we want when you bring her to our cherry blossom viewing party. You do remember that’s today, right?”

“O-of course I remember!” he retorted, though it was fairly obvious to everyone involved that he’d completely forgotten.

“Good! I’ll see you two there, then!” and with that, she hung up before Yamcha reply.

He found himself staring down at his phone for a while after the call ended. After a bit, he turned to look back at Piccolo. He’d long since recovered from his bout of laughter, and was now staring back at him with a look of mild concern.

“You alright?”

Yamcha blushed lightly at that. It was impossible to hide anything from the ever-perceptive alien warrior. He’d always been able to read him like a book. He must have picked up on his discomfort there at the end of his conversation with Bulma. The former bandit responded by flashing him a soft smile.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” he replied before holding up his phone. “So, looks like we’ve been invited out somewhere, and I don’t think she’ll take no for an answer. You wanna go?”

“Sure. We can make a date of it,” Piccolo responded, taking a moment to stretch now that going back to bed was out of the question. “Far be it for me to let someone get away with calling me a whore without me hitting back.”

“Hey now, don’t go starting fights my ex. Shit like that never ends well.”

The Namekian couldn’t help but flash a sly smirk at that.

“Please, when have I ever been anything but a perfect gentleman?”

_________________

A few hours later, the two of them found themselves walking down a path that wound its way through the large park on the outskirts of West City. The grass was covered in a blanket of light pink flower petals, all fallen from the many sakura trees scattered about. There was no shortage of people in the park today, with many groups already populating choice spots beneath the trees.

The pair made their way past the gathering families and friends, and Yamcha tried his best to ignore the stares they got as they passed. He wasn’t sure how Piccolo could stand it; always being gawked at like that. Perhaps he couldn’t. Perhaps it was just another thing he’d learned to keep buried deep inside. He grasped the Namekian’s hand, which seemed to flinch lightly at his touch as though he’d been startled. So, it did still bother him…

“Hey, wouldn’t be much of a date if we didn’t at least hold hands, right?” Yamcha explained, flashing his partner a goofy grin. He wasn’t ashamed to be seen with him like that, and he wanted him to know it. Piccolo stared down at him for a moment, his eyes searching Yamcha’s face as though trying to read his intentions. Whatever he decided, it brought a serene smile to his face.

“Sure, if you’re a ten-year-old,” he teased lightly, looking away before the violet blush on his face became too obvious. Even so, he embraced Yamcha’s hand in his own without further hesitation.

Soon enough, the two of them arrived at the portion of the park that had been reserved for use by the Briefs family. It was a beautiful area, right beneath the largest sakura tree in the park. It seemed the party had already started without them. Master Roshi was already well into the sake supply, and he could be heard shouting come-ons at any young lady that happened too close to the group. A small stage had been set up under the tree, whereupon the obligatory karaoke machine had been set up. Thankfully, no one was making use of it just yet, but Yamcha was sure that would change once more guests got some alcohol in them.

Speaking of guests… Yamcha stopped in his tracks halfway up the hill, staring at the figure that stood at Krillin’s side. The straight blonde hair, the ice blue eyes, the petite frame… There was no mistaking the foreboding presence of Android 18. Yamcha felt his blood run cold, his entire body going rigid with fear. What the hell was she doing there?! Piccolo seemed apprehensive as well, releasing Yamcha’s hand as though to be ready should he need to fight.

Soon enough, the two of them were noticed. Krillin’s smile seemed to widen when he spotted them, eagerly waving them over. The pair was understandably hesitant, as the diminutive monk was standing right next to the murderous beauty that was 18, but they eventually made their way up the gentle slope of the hill to join the rest of the group.

“Hey guys, how’s it going?” Krillin asked cheerily, that wide grin of his never disappearing from his face. Yamcha couldn’t hold himself back long enough to return the greeting, instead leaning down to whisper to the shorter martial artist.

“What the hell is she doing here?!” he asked urgently, trying to keep his voice low enough so that the subject in question couldn’t overhear. Krillin looked up towards Android 18, who seemed to be having a silent stare down with Piccolo at the moment. He then looked back to Yamcha with a lopsided smirk.

“Oh, well… I invited her. She’s my date.”

“What?!” Yamcha blurted out, completely forgetting to keep his voice down. “Y-you’re dating an android?!”

“Hi Pot, meet Kettle,” Piccolo commented towards his partner, though his eyes never left the icy stare of 18’s bright blue eyes. Yamcha let out a nervous laugh at that. Yeah, he supposed he didn’t really have any room to talk about other people’s choices in dates, did he? Still, she’d been out to kill them all less than a year ago, and now she and Krillin were a thing all of a sudden? He’d never seen a faster heel-turn in his life!

“Oh yeah! Speaking of which…” Krillin interjected, bringing Yamcha back to the moment at hand. “Bulma’s been going around ranting about you having a new girlfriend. So, who’s the lucky lady? You bring her along?”

That line of questioning made Yamcha’s face heat up in an instant. He straightened up, letting out another nervous laugh as he scratched idly at the back of his head.

“Y-yeah, about that, uhhh…” he began, unsure how to even broach the subject. He gave a sideways glance towards Piccolo, but he didn’t even get the chance to see his reaction to the question when yet another person interjected themselves into the conversation.

“Alright, where is she?” came Bulma’s voice from just behind him. Yamcha jumped lightly in surprise, turning around to come face to face with the blue-haired scientist. She was looking up at him with that suspicious look on her face, her hands set on her hips.

“What’s wrong? Got second thoughts about everyone meeting your new fling? Or did she dump you already?” she teased with an almost malicious smirk. Yamcha stammered through an incoherent reply, tripping over his words in his inability to form a satisfactory answer in the face of his ex. Luckily, Piccolo took notice of his struggles and stepped in.

“Hi. I’m the ‘Russian hussy.’ Nice to meet you,” he said with the sort of straight-faced sarcasm that made you wonder whether he was joking or not. Bulma merely stared up at him for a long moment before bursting into laughter.

“Hah! Nice try! All joking aside, though… Where is she?”

At that reply, Piccolo bent down to get a little closer to eye-level with the obnoxious woman, staring her down with a deathly serious expression until her laughter quickly tapered out.

“I assure you; I do not joke about such things.”

The retort was spoken so low and calmly, yet at the same time Yamcha could see the color drain from Bulma’s face as she stared up at the alien towering over her, her eyes going wide. She opened her mouth to say something, but once she found herself incapable of finding her words, she quickly shut it again. Fortunately, it seemed Krillin was not struck with such stunned silence.

“W-wait… You mean… You?! And… A-and Piccolo?!” the shorter man stammered out in utter disbelief, his wide-eyed stares flicking between the two in question. Yamcha replied with a shaky laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Y-yeah, it’s pretty wild, right? Trust me, I wasn’t expecting it either, but I guess that’s just how it goes sometimes!”

Suddenly, Yamcha felt himself being tugged downward by the side of his jacket until he was bent over far enough for Krillin to whisper in his ear.

“Hey, so… How does that work with him? I mean… you guys have, like… ‘done it,’ right?”

At that, Yamcha’s face went beet red with embarrassment. How the hell was he supposed to answer something like that?!

“W-well, It’s, uhh… It’s kinda like…” he paused for a moment to clear his throat, unsure how he should explain that sort of thing in public. Luckily, he wouldn’t be left to flounder on his own for much longer.

“Alright, first of all, I can hear you. Second; why is that always the first thing anyone asks about Namekians when it comes to this sort of thing? You never saw any of us asking how you humans procreate, did you?”

At that, Krillin could only blush lightly and glance away towards his own date. Android 18, to her credit, looked more amused than anything at the situation, looking up to Piccolo with a small smirk.

“Well, here I was afraid I’d be the strangest date anyone brought along, but this definitely tops me. Thanks for taking all the awkward staring away from me, at least.”

“My pleasure,” Piccolo replied casually, and with that it seemed all that had happened between the two of them prior to the Cell Games was water under the bridge. It was clear that 18 meant no harm to any of them, and so long as it stayed that way Piccolo was content with her presence there.

In the meantime, Yamcha made his way back over to where Bulma still stood, frozen like a statue.

“Uhh… Bulma? You okay?” he asked softly, waving a hand in front of her face. Her eyes continued to stare straight forward in utter shock, looking right through him as though he wasn’t there at all.

“I-it… It all makes sense now…” she squeaked out, her voice barely audible. Finally, her eyes seemed to focus on him once more. She then grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, shaking him back and forth. “How did I not see it before?! That’s why you were always afraid of women! And why you could never keep a girlfriend! Oh my God, why is my gay-dar so baaaad?!”