Dbz What Once Was Lost

AN: I do not own Dragon Ball Z and I am not profiting from this work.

This story is set several years after Buu so Gohan and Videl would be between 18 and 20 years old.

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Panting hot lustful breaths as her slender fingers buried themselves in his soft locks of spiky jet black hair; she tried to fight back her moans as her lover's sly tongue parted her folds. Its silky smoothness teasing her senses into delirium as it swivelled about deep inside of her core's depths. Desperate for more, she opened her legs wider, surrendering herself and opening up to him in the most intimate of ways.

'Damn why must he be so good...' Within moments he had her crying out, her strength and dignity seemingly forgotten as a fiery serpent spread from his villainous tongue to coil within her belly, its warmth seeping through her being in a flood of white hot pleasure. It was so incredibly delicious that she feared she might go insane with the feeling of it surging through her in great waves.

"So do you like the way my tongue feels inside of you?" She heard him whisperer, his deep voice reverberating against her most sensitive of spots and blowing wisps of air inside her to feed the fires of her desire. The tremors it caused made her buck and writhe against him, deep throaty moans flowing from her parted lips as her cloudy sapphire orbs opened wide in delirious pleasure.

"Yes . . . oh yes . . . fuck . . . yeesss . . ." She gasped, her voice trembling on a high note as he buried his head between her thighs, eating her like a starving man at an all you can eat banquet. His skilled tongue opening her folds and drinking up her flowing nectar in great gulps as his strong hands squeezed and massaged the full cheeks of her backside. Then suddenly he abandoned her burning depths and latched onto her clitoris, suckling the erect nub with a force that made her head spin as fireworks began to kindle across her brain.

She squealed and bucked her hips against him as the rough pads of his fingers drummed against her pelvic mound while he flicked his tongue rapidly over her nub. It felt so good that she was in danger of losing herself to it as liquid fire crept through her veins in spurts that numbed her to anything but the sight of him kneeling between her spread legs, his predatory gaze fixing on her even as his appendages worked her into delirious ecstasy...

"Hey Videl! Are you still with us?" Erasa asked while idly waving her hand across her friend's gaze, causing Videl to jump in surprise as she was awoken from her fantasy. Disappointed at being denied the release that had been building within her, she quickly looked down at the floor and made a feeble attempt to hide the blush that was staining her cheeks as she realised the table's two other occupants were staring at her.

Damn-it, she'd done it again. She'd fallen into a day-dream and hadn't realised, though how she'd managed to slip into one while the music was playing so loudly would forever remain a mystery.

"Geez Videl, you could make a cherry look pale with that blush." Angela observed while taking a sip of her drink, draining the last of the alcoholic beverage from the glass before putting it back on the table top. "Hmmm...so what were you thinking about?"

"Oh I bet I know." Erasa cut in, an evil smile spreading across her lips as she fixed her gaze on Videl. "It's got to be the same guy she's been thinking about for the past month, he's the only thing Videl thinks about."

'Fuck you Erasa, I told you that in confidence.' Videl thought while taking up her own glass and then shot the blonde a very cold look as she sipped her rum and coke.

"Oh...Isn't he that that guy she dumped 3months ago, the one you said must have been a sex god." 'Thanks Angela.'

Videl did her best to tune out the rest of what they said, not wanting to be reminded of the greatest mistake of her life she instead tried to focus on the bubbles rising up from the bottom of her drink, watching as they popped at the rolling surface with only mild interest. How had it all come to this? Only three months ago she had been happier than she had ever been in her life, she had been doing well in University, had had a wonderful life, and she had had a boyfriend who loved her and whom had been without a doubt the love of her life. Now what did she have?

"I still don't understand why you would end it if he was so good?" Angela asked bluntly, her voice rather louder than Videl would have liked when discussing her none-existent love life. In truth Videl really didn't like the brunette that much, in her opinion she was much too much of an air-head and was possibly the densest individual Videl had ever had the misfortune to go to school with. However, tonight Erasa had led her to believe that their class-mate was a necessary evil.

"Mm...Well Videl says she had her reasons but I think she choked." Erasa explained, sipping her Vodka as she conversed with her friend like Videl wasn't even there. It was painful to hear and she tried desperately to blot their voices out by listening to the music that booming out over the club's internal speakers, yet no matter how hard she tried, she know there was nothing that could save her from hearing what was coming next. "Gohan is a very sweet guy, but Videl just doesn't like letting anyone get as close to her as he had." There it was, the story of her life lain bear for all to see by Doctor Erasa Freud.

Grabbing her drink, Videl made no attempt to be ladylike as she then drained the glass in one go as if to drown her sorrows in fizzing waves of the rum cocktail. In truth she wasn't much for anything alcoholic but when the subject of Son Gohan arose, she suddenly felt the need to have a drink. But no matter how much she drank, nothing could change the fact that Erasa was right, and that she had fucked up what was quite possibly the best thing that could ever have happened to her.

Three months ago, they'd been a happy, normal, crime-fighting couple. She the only daughter of the world's supposed champion and him a half-alien genius who was possibly the strongest fighter in the universe. Then she'd thought they could have survived anything, that nothing could ever tear them apart. Kami she had been so naïve...

"I'm so sorry Gohan..." She whispered, careful to her voice low enough so that neither Erasa nor Angela could hear her. Oh how she wished to go back in time and change that moment, to make it so that that fight had never happened.

With shaky fingers, she put the glass back down and then tilted her chair back as the memories flooded her brain. They'd been in the middle of a foiling a bank heist, bullets had been hailing in all directions as the robbers desperately tried to shoot the faster than light Gohan as he zipped about the bank, taking them down groups at a time. She had been facing down the group's leader, a big beefy man with no chin and who spoke with a thick Russian accent. His speed belied his size however and she hand narrowly avoided being knocked unconscious when he took a swing at her. The proclaimed Kingpin's heavy fist missed her helmet covered head by millimetres as she dived to the side, her landing had been off however and she hit her side badly. Finding herself unable to move for the pain it caused her, she'd then watched in horror as the crook pulled a magnum large enough to orbit Clint Eastwood from within the breast of his finely tailored suit.

She could remember closing her eyes as the man said "das be danya Saiyagirl." And then hearing the impossibly loud gunshot, the resounding bang of the bullet exploding outwards almost deafening her, but then the bullet never came. Confused, she'd opened her eyes to find Gohan standing over her, his cape billowing on a light breeze as he came between her and certain death. Surprised by her partner's sudden appearance, the Russian Kingpin had recoiled slightly and was in the middle of bringing the Magnum up when Gohan suddenly grabbed his wrists. Breaking bones and agonized screams mingled together as the Russian fell to his knees, seemingly paralysed with pain from the way the hybrid had gripped him.

Seeing their leader's distress, the still standing thugs had turned on Gohan, their fully automatic weapons firing into life as they emptied what remained in their magazine; however the squashed remnants of the bullets fell harmlessly to the floor at the Saiyan's feet. Unfazed by the growing pile of spent ammunition, Gohan had kept his attention fixed on the beefy Russian until the mob boss finally let the gun drop, at which point he promptly slammed his knee up into the crock's jaw. The rest had all been a blur to Videl, not caring to watch Gohan beat the villain's to a pulp; she had been unable to tear her eyes from the still smocking 44.

When it was all over, Gohan had tried to carry her out but she'd resisted and pushed away, saying that she could manage and then limping out while being thankful for her helmet because it meant none of the spectators could see either the tears in her eyes or the pained expression on her face. However Gohan had not been fooled and when they were safely out of the public eye, he had confronted her...

She knew now that he only been worried about her but at the time, when she was emotionally charged and somewhat insecure from very nearly having her head blown off, it had seemed like he was trying to control her. She'd blown up in his face, told him that she wasn't some weak damsel needing a protector, that she could take care of herself and had been doing so for a long time. When he tried to cool her down, she'd curtly told him to get lost. They hadn't spoken since, Gohan had stopped coming to University and she had rapidly slipped into a depressed state. She wanted Gohan back but couldn't bring herself to face him again, her pride wouldn't allow it and she doubted her heart would be able to take the rejection she'd receive.

A shadow suddenly loomed over her and glancing across her glass, Videl saw that it was Angela's friend Kate. At least she would find out what all the fuss was about...

"Hey girls, we're in..." Kate said happily, taking her place next to Erasa and putting an assortment of what looked like masks on the glass table-top. "Jerry says we can go up to the VIP's lounge in five minutes but we're to keep a low profile." At that, Videl couldn't help but quietly scoff. Erasa, Angela and Katie were some of the most notorious partiers in Satan City, they were more likely to sprout wings then keep a low profile. "We also have to where one of these." As she said this, Katie gestured at the masks and picked up a black masquerade eye mask that was decorated with gold decorations. "It is part of mister Yamcha's theme for the club's opening night."

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Son Gohan stood before the office's window, looking down at Satan city like a king surveying his domain. However the beauty of the city at night was lost on him, for his mind was too laden with memories to admire the twinkling star lit sky or enjoy the majesty of the buildings. It was the same every time he saw anything beautiful, anything that might remind him of her.

"Don't protect me; I don't need you protection Gohan!" Videl shouted angrily, her eyes livid as she looked up at him and poked her finger into his chest. "I'm not some helpless madden in need of saving."

"Videl...I..." He tried to explain, backing away quickly as he sensed the girl's energy spiking, however she interrupted his explanation.

"You can't control me Gohan; I don't care if you are a 1000 times more powerful than me. I won't be controlled by anyone."

Gohan was shocked; she thought he wanted to control her? How could she consider that when he had difficulty in asserting himself to his mother?

"Videl, I don't want to control you. I just..."

"Get away from me Gohan." She said while turning her back on the hybrid. "I mean it, Get lost!"

"So what do think Gohan? Nice isn't it to have the city at your feet." A voice suddenly asked, waking the teen from his thoughts. Deep in the recesses of his memory, he hadn't noticed the presence entering the office and had been blind to them until they took a place beside him.

"Yes..." He whispered, before turning to his dad's friend. "You've certainly made a name for yourself this time Yamcha." The bandit smiled joyfully at his remark and clapped him on the back.

It had been quite a surprise to the Z-Fighters when Yamcha, the former bandit turned washed up base baller, had announced that he was going into the nightclub business. Indeed both Bulma and Krillen had broken out into a fit of hysterics, saying in-between the bouts of laughter that he was too old and out-of-style. Amazingly they had been proven wrong; five minutes after its opening, Yamcha's club had become a smash hit and the former bandit a millionaire.

"So how are your studies coming Gohan?" Yamcha asked in an offhand manor as he walked around his desk and sat in the new leather recliner; referring of course to the home studies Gohan had taken upon himself since leaving University. As he understood it, the work load was gargantuan and the time frame was somewhat tighter than if he were actually at university. So much so that even Gohan the boy genius might be having trouble keeping up.

"They're going well." Gohan lied, trying to appear unfazed by the question as he sat in the chair across from the Yamcha. The truth was he had fallen behind, rather badly by all accounts. He just couldn't get his mind to stay on one topic. Every few hours something would appear or be mentioned that would throw his mind back onto a very distracting subject.

"You know you never were a good liar, Kid. Even your dad can see right through you and that is saying something." Gohan ignored the jab about his dad, knowing that he was referring more to the Saiyan's overly trusting nature rather than his stupidity. Instead he was more bothered by the accusation that he was a bad liar. Why did everyone say that bout him? 'Videl in particular liked to say it.' "You're still thinking about her aren't you?"

This time Gohan couldn't hide his discomfort and looked away from his dad's friend as he tried to make a façade of being interested the office; it had after all been expertly decorated and screamed the owner's susses with antique wooden furniture and original Picassos and Monet's. They'd had this conversation before; he'd had it with the rest of the gang several times in fact, and very really had he liked the way they went. Vegeta had been the only one to say something different, but his advice had been no constructive than that of Goten's. He may have been wrong but Gohan doubted forcing Videl to submit to him would be the best way to win her affections.

"You know your life is going to go to hell unless you forget about her kid."

"I'm already in hell, Yamcha." Gohan whispered, his voice dipping so low that the bandit struggled to hear him. "My life became a hell the moment I lost her."

"And that is exactly why I invited you to the Grand opening." "Yamcha announced, suddenly retaining his usual good nature as he opened a draw in his desk and pulled out an ID of some denomination and a deep blue mask that was shaped just to cover around his eyes. "Nothing is better for forgetting an irritable ex-girlfriend than a good party."

Off the proceeds from his first nightclub, Yamcha had gone on to build a business empire that would soon rival Capsule Corp. With the deeds to four other clubs sitting in his safe, the former bandit had decided to move into Satan City and construct the fifth. Gohan had been invited to the opening night but he hadn't suspected Yamcha intended for him to join in the celebration. Parties never had been his scene...

However, as if he could sense the teen's anxiety, Yamcha quickly cut in. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to Gohan. Just go downstairs and have a drink, then if you're still not impressed and want to leave go right ahead." Gohan found it difficult to argue with his logic and in way of an answer; he reached over and picked up the mask. It was quite light and felt cool against his skin as he slipped it over his head. It was a perfect fit over his eyes, apparently that tailor Yamcha had sent him to had been taking more measurements than he'd let on. 'The sneaky bastard...'

"Good boy." Yamcha said happily, almost rubbing his hands together in pleasure as he learnt back in the chair and put his expensive crocodile skin shoes on the desk. "Show that card to Jerry and he'll let you into the VIP lounge, it will also get you into the lounge's honeymoon suite should you find some yourself some wealthy heiress on the dance floor." Gohan couldn't tell if he was joking not so he just scoffed in response as he grabbed the card. Taking that as an end to the meeting, he got up and walked across the office to the door without a backwards glance. However before he could leave, Yamcha suddenly called. "Oh and Gohan, be sure to try one of Kyle's Bacardi Mojitos, they are excellent." The comment made a small smile spread across Gohan's lips as he shut the door.

With the door shut and his dad's friend out of sight, Gohan was tempted to leave the club right then and there. The notion of him going into the lounge was ludicrous but it also appealed to his curiosity. He'd never been into a club before, the nearest to his home was a few hundred miles and Videl had never had much of a taste for clubbing; it would certainly be a growing experience if nothing else.

And so, smiling for the first time in three months, Gohan made his way down the stairs that led up to Yamcha's office and came out in a small waiting area that would not have looked out of place in a dental surgery. The receptionist, a pretty blonde girl who was wearing an expensive designer suit and a little too much makeup, gave him the quick once over and then flashed him a promising smile before saying "Good night Mr Son." Much to her dismay, Gohan barely gave her a second's glance and the only sign that he acknowledged her at all was a curt nod as he entered the elevator. The machine's doors promptly closed before she could protest.

As the lift was only used to travel between two floors, Gohan didn't have to bother with pressing buttons before the box was descending and the doors opened after a moment to admit him into a room that was intimately lit by an overhanging chandelier. Its walls were a deep shade of red and his heightened vision allowed him to make out the various paintings of orgies which hung on the walls. On his left the room branched off into a swirling corridor that led down to the club's public dance floor while on his right a set of heavy oaken doors were being guarded by an overly muscled bruiser/ bouncer with a name tag on his chest that said his name was Jerry. Gohan was almost half a foot taller than the stocky guard but he did his best to look intimidated as he showed him his pass. The brute examined the laminated card for a moment, probably suspecting it to be a forgery; however if there were any defects Jerry didn't spot them and he stepped aside a moment later to admit Gohan.

The oak doors swung open on their own accord and, taking them to be electric, the Saiyan brushed past the Guard without saying a word as he briskly stepped into the warmth of the lounge. In stark contrast to the lower level dance floor that was bombarded constantly by noise and filled with barely of legal-age patrons, the VIP's lounge had a more classical atmosphere. The walls were painted in subdued tones and adorned with more framed depictions of orgies, the ceiling was vaulted and an expensive crystal chandelier hung from its centre while expensive wood furniture lay scattered about the room's rim. Flocks of well-dressed men and ladies, all of whom were wearing expensively crafted eye-masks and so unrecognisable, loitered about the lounge, talking avidly in their groups while sipping drinks from crystal glasses. Gentle music was playing out of concealed speakers and some of the more youthful guests had taken to dancing in unfurnished centre.