"Oi! Geta, this is great!" Goten glanced with narrow mistrustful eyes at his father. What the hell was the tall Saiyan taking? He'd been acting strangely since they'd been taken under by the Briefs', well, Bulma's sympathetic wing. The demi-Saiyan hadn't seen his giddy father this cheerful in months. Not since his mother had hitched a ride out of town with that suave French photographer.

Eyes of crystalline blue snagged his own as he dragged his gaze with slow deliberation from the man sitting to his left. Geta? Goten shrugged as the demi-Saiyan across from him mouthed the word with a snicker. Hell if he knew. The man who could solve the intricate puzzle of Son Goku's mind was either a Kami-damned genius, or as...simple...as the man himself. There were too many pieces missing for the demi-Saiyan to even attempt to put all the interlocking masses together.

"Hn. Shut up, Kakarott, you're ruining the flavour with your irritating banter." Flavour? The dark haired demi-Saiyan's brow rippled with suspicion. The slab of meat on his plate hardly looked like quality cuisine. If he listened hard enough, he could almost hear the poor animal still groaning. Poking the tender pink, his stomach lurched, diluted rivers of juice pooling under the prodding of his fork. Apparently Vegeta had transferred his former blood lust into more mundane arts. Like the absence of food preparation.

"Papa...I think it's still moving." Goten tried not to allow the laughter to escape the prison of his lips as the Saiyan prince's youngest mimicked the older demi-Saiyan's motions, openly wincing as the crimson essence invaded the pasty mound of her mashed potatoes. "Why didn't Mama cook tonight?"

"Mama's on vacation, Bra-chan," Trunks intercepted before the fragile structure of his father's pride could be stomped on by the irate antics of an annoyed eight-year-old.

"Convenient," the Saiyan muttered, sawing savagely into his roast, licking the juice from his lips as he chewed, then swallowed. "Woman takes off and leaves me with you heathen bakas...Dammit, Kakarott! I told you the table cloth was not your own personal napkin!"

Goten shook his raven head with a chuckle, burying his amusement in the pristine linen folds of his napkin. Sniffing away the tears of his laughter, glistening obsidian eyes rose swiftly to be captured by crystal blue counterparts. Calming immediately, despite the continued bickering of background noise, Goten felt his heart flutter freely in his chest. Dende, he could almost taste the chocolate of those lips against his own again...

"'Tousan, please...we're guests." Goku's uncomprehendingly childlike eyes settled on his oldest son with a head tilt of question. Sighing softly, Gohan finished slicing his undercooked entrée into tiny, equal squares, placing his knife against the rim of his plate with a quiet clink before coaxing one of the bite sized morsels onto the points of his fork and sliding it into his mouth.

"No, Go-kun, you're family!" Gohan's polite and glassy features cracked into a mirroring smile at the little girl's cheery chirp, patiently handing her his napkin as a festival of peas celebrated their freedom, spilling over the perimeter of her plate.

"Like hell...a family of roaches, eating me out of house and home..."

"Papa..." Trunks' statement of absent reprimand was quelled as he felt a socked foot slip under the loose hem of his pants, blazing blue eyes narrowing to seductive points that were met with equal fervor by the smoldering black stars across from him. Moistening his lips with a taunting pink tongue, the paler prince grinned wickedly, toes traversing the tiled distance and gliding suggestively up the impressive muscle of Goten's thigh. Those thighs he had felt for a fleeting moment this afternoon...thighs he yearned to have wrapped around him...

Goten's thick charcoal lashes lowered further with the warming sensation of Trunks' foot against his leg. Dende...Biting his lip with a flash of flattering scarlet, the darker demi-Saiyan curled his fingers over the cool wooden edges of his chair. Glancing up through wild ebony locks, the youngest Son slowly uncrossed his ankles from beneath his seat. So...Trunks-kun wanted to play again...

"Papa, will you take me to the amusement park again tomorrow?" Vegeta's face immediately lit up like a Christmas tree, knife poised threateningly over the helpless hunk of beef on his bleeding platter.

"Bra..." The prince's gravely growl of embarrassment was overpowered by Goku's flighty high-pitched laughter.

"That's sounds like fun, Geta! Can I go?"

"Kakarott, I am not taking anyone anywhere!" The older Saiyan slammed his utensil down with an exasperated snarl. "And my name is not 'Geta' you moronic excuse for a third class--"

Flickering his gaze up through silky lavender strands, Trunks purred quietly as the flat of the foot on his leg rode higher, tickling with an affectionate toe at the soft underside of his knee. Wringing the linen scrap of white cloth in his clenching hands, the lighter demi-Saiyan struggled with the animalistic pull that urged him to swipe the immaculate china from the table and replace it with that sensuous raven eyed devil that returned his fiery look over the three foot expanse. Dende, they were Saiyans! It shouldn't have taken them this long to finish a damn meal...

Ignoring the flushing warmth in his glowing cheeks, Goten danced his foot up the hard muscle of the leg he encountered, glancing coyly at his paler counterpart with a twitching grin. Raising the cup in his hand, he pressed his lips to the glass rim, tongue curling in pirouettes over the edge before he tipped the bottom, wetting his mouth with the delightfully cold liquid, shimmying down his throat in tantalizing rivulets of clear, calming ecstasy... And Dende, the rapt expression of predatory longing on the face of his lavender angel... Goten held the icy substance in his mouth a moment, savouring the numbing effect as he relished the flexing thigh beneath the pad of his foot. Dende, Trunks sure had been working out--

"Alright." All eyes, dark and light alike fixed inquisitive stares on the terse face of the Saiyan prince as he tightly gripped the deadly kitchen knife, still dripping with the unfortunate crimson essence of his meal, bleeding his knuckles white. "Who's fucking foot is on my thigh?!"

Trunks was unaware of nature's ability to create rain indoors until Goten's mind registered his father's comment. Wiping the sudden drops from his sodden hair, the pale prince blinked back the water that clung despairingly to his lashes. Glaring death at all surrounding sentient beings, Vegeta snarled, eyes narrowing to fine slits as the table jerked, three sheepish Saiyans suddenly finding the food on their plate the most interesting thing in existence. Dende-sama himself could have walked through the door and announced his presence--if he hadn't been in heaven laughing his little green ass off.

Goku's paler pallor was touched with rosy colour as he glanced in mortified apology at his youngest son's best friend. He'd wondered why the dark Saiyan prince had stayed silent for so long...Guess his foot had gone a little too far to the left...

He knew it was too good to be true. Time to move on to plan B. Schoolboy philosophy: if you like someone, repeatedly beat the shit out of them until they notice you. Seemed to work so far...He was eating dinner with the man, after all.

Swallowing hard, Trunks licked lips gone suddenly incredibly dry, despite his little indoor shower. Oh, Dende...Goku-san may have looked like his son, but damned if the pastel prince had ever thought of his best friend's father like that. Shuddering, he chanced a gaze through watery lashes, meeting his ebony counterpart's wide-eyed expression of extreme humiliation. Apparently Goten was having the same thought...

Gohan's pursed lips twitched in refined amusement at the small Saiyan's angry outburst. He'd been watching the exchange between his younger sibling and the lighter prince since the start of the meal. And his father's behavior was obvious to everyone. Heh, 'Geta' indeed... He figured it was only a matter of time before the fathers followed the actions of their sons...Shaking his head of tamed obsidian hair, the eldest demi-Saiyan's deep intelligent eyes met the young wondering blue of the only Briefs present who was not currently being pursued by a Son. Snorting his rejection of fate's proposal, Gohan lifted his fork to his lips, biting off the carefully chiseled square with his teeth.

"Gomen, kid. But it's not gonna happen."