Disclaimer: 'Tis a sad day when one believes a teenager owns a hugely popular series called Dragon Ball Z, but is still writing fanfiction for it.

Trouble

She shrieked as she rounded the corner, bullets whizzing by. She looked up to see her partner in crime running atop the town's roofs like some vigilante from a comic book. "Damn it, Vegeta!" She pulled her hand gun out from its holster on her belt and fired at a crate with a bunch of fruit. Several of the men chasing her tripped over the spiky orange things and fell, but she still had six on her tail.

"Don't you dare blame this on me you insufferable woman! You're the one who told the jackass to go suck –" He suddenly jumped from the roof and landed in a crouch on top of a food stand within the busy bazaar when another goon fired at him.

He saw one of their adversaries coming for Bulma from an alley up ahead. He flung his arm out towards a balcony and a thin metal cable shot out from his long-sleeved coat. Tightening its hold on the railing, he swung down and delivered his foot to the man's face.

She soon joined him by his side. "Yeah, well, you didn't do much to discourage me!"

"Seven o'clock."

"Got it." Without looking behind, she fired a single round and heard a thud from behind, followed by a wail of pain.

"I could have done better."

"Go to hell. It got rid of him, didn't it?" He shrugged as he searched the area for a good place to duck under and finally lose their pursuers in the busy Arabian market place. He yanked on her arm for her to stop when they reached an intersection in the dirt road. Pulling a small gray orb from his pocket, he threw it on the ground and a huge puff of smoke erupted from it.

When the men reached the intersection, they glanced around helplessly until one spoke up. "Split up! They couldn't have gotten far!" They ran off in different directions, holding their fire arms menacingly.

When they were gone, an explosion of feminine laughter could be heard from the rooftops, accompanied by masculine chuckles. Bulma was doubled over, her face bright red with amusement. "Woman, don't forget to breathe." When she finally calmed down, she lightly punched his bicep.

She took a deep breath and stretched her arms above her head. "That was horrible. They shouldn't have even seen us."

"Please. You wanted them to."

She shrugged. "I needed a change of pace. We should get going or else you-know-who will be pissed off."

"Hn."

They hopped back onto the ground, ignoring the incredulous stares from the locals they got as they left the main gate of the small village and began a journey through the desert. Bulma groaned as she wiped the sweat from her brow. "How the hell are you wearing that coat out here? I'm frying and I'm not wearing half as much as you." It was true. She wore denim shorts that reached mid thigh, a black tank top that was cut off half way, exposing her toned stomach, combat boots, and her gun and knife holsters. Vegeta had his full length black coat that concealed the cables he used to reach odd places, combat boots as well, a tight fitting blue muscle shirt, and jeans.

He smirked. "You're just upset I'm not wearing less."

She sniffed indignantly. "As if. It just seems impossible that you're not dying of heat stroke right now. It's almost 120 degrees out here!"

"We'd get to the check point a lot faster if you would stop bitching. Besides, it'll cool down once the sun sets."

"I'm just trying to make conversation, you ass." When he didn't respond she sighed and decided to change the subject. "How are the cables working?"

He shrugged. "I'm not used to them yet. I doubt I'll be using them often. I'm more comfortable with a sword or at least a gun."

She laughed lightly. "Yeah, I figured, Mr. Sharpshooter-Slice-and-dice. Still, I don't think he would have given up until you tested it on a real mission for him. Now that he knows it's safe for someone of your experience, he can let a newbie train with it. You'll get your toys back when we arrive at base. Kami knows you'll be almost as trigger happy as I am."

"I suppose."

"You're not much of a conversationalist, you know," she said, growing annoyed.

"Hn." She inhaled to prepare to speak again, but he interrupted her. "Do all females babble this incessantly or is it just you?" She 'hmpfed' and crossed her arms.

When they reached the ten mile mark, Bulma checked her watch. "Alright, I think we're good." She pulled a capsule out of her pocket and threw it on the ground. A hover bike appeared. She was about to get on when Vegeta slid in front. "Hey!"

"I'm driving."

"Bastard," she grumbled, but slid on behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso.

"Don't flatter me." With that he revved up the engine and they took off, dust and sand billowing up behind them. The sun had started to go down and Bulma grew tired. She nuzzled into Vegeta's muscular back and drifted off. After a while, the desert sand held a blue tint to it, and the sky grew dark with bright speckles of stars. Eventually a black blur became visible against the landscape ahead. Vegeta nudged his partner awake and pointed to their ride.

They found Krillin and Juu playing poker inside the helicopter when they stepped on board. "'Bout time. You guys didn't stop for a romp in the desert did you?"

Bulma rolled her eyes as she sat down behind their pilots and buckled up. "Please, Krillin, the sand would have gotten in the most uncomfortable places and we do have an apartment back at base. What about you and Juu? Surely you didn't just play poker the whole wait?"

The shorter man just blushed. His girlfriend turned around as Vegeta was about to sit. "I would take the other side if I were you."

His nose scrunched up and he almost gagged as he took the middle seat instead. "Disgusting."

The blonde waved him off. "Don't act all high and mighty. You two do the same."

"Yes, but not in a secret transportation aircraft that is fully loaded with at least thirteen different types of explosives," Bulma cut in.

"You have you hobbies, I have mine." Neither of them could argue with that.

Krillin adjusted his head set and began pressing buttons as he seized the controls. "Okay, is it just me or does it smell like awkwardness?"

"It smells like absurdly timed sex," Vegeta groused.

The base that they currently lived at was the center of all the operations that were done. Artillery, weapons, new recruits, vehicles... Everything major was developed there. It was the heart of the organization hidden within a deep lush jungle in the tropics. Teams were usually a pair of partners of their choosing, but there could be three or more in a specialized group.

Fake trees split apart to reveal a clearing for the helicopter to land on. The landing pad began to sink underground, and they found themselves under the pool of water at the base of the waterfall after being moved through several tunnels. Actually, most of the base was underground, only about an eighth of it visible from above.

The four left the hangar, the pairs splitting off to finish different tasks. Bulma and Vegeta entered a large conference room where the lights were dimmed and a holographic projection was emitting from the table. On one side, sat Dr. Briefs and the other was a man with threes eyes and a short doll-like person. "…and then you'll need to penetrate the west side, Chiaotzu. Tien will take Lieutenant Kirk out while you keep that exit clear. Your checkpoint will be about a mile due south from there. Good luck. Oh, Bulma, Vegeta, come sit." The two assassins stood and left.

"We got it, Daddy. Really, a fourth rank mission? That was way too easy." She slapped a folder on the table and waited while her father looked it over.

"Very good, darling. You may both have some leave time until further notice." The older man patted his daughter on the shoulder. "Oh, and, Vegeta, my boy, how did the cable work out for you?"

He removed the device from his wrist and held it out for the inventor. "Fine, though my preference lies with my sword and gun."

"Of course. Thank you for testing it for me. I should be able to shrink the design with due time, but this will do for now. I'll see both of you around."

They walked the halls alone, everyone else either gone on a mission or in bed – most likely half of them not even sleeping. Since they were alone, Bulma latched onto Vegeta's arm and let her head rest on his shoulder as they walked. "How long do you think it will take them to realize that we don't actually do it that much?" she mused, referring to Juu and Krillin's assumption that they had sex frequently.

He shrugged. "It doesn't really matter. We won't run a high risk of children until things are safer and the Red Ribbon Army has been removed from power. After that," he smirked, "I'm sure it will be a nightly ritual."

"I would hope so. Birth control pills are almost non-existent now." She yawned as he entered the code for their room and the door slid open. Stumbling like a drunk, she made her way to the bathroom to wash up before bed. Vegeta stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed, deciding his shower could wait until morning. Bulma came back in after twenty minutes or so, wearing nothing more than her sports bra and sleeping shorts. She climbed in with Vegeta and felt his arm wrap around her waist in a protective manner. Soon, his heartbeat lulled her to sleep.

…

They slept in until noon. Vegeta didn't bother opening his eyes when he felt warm and perfect lips mold against his in a most pleasant wake-up call. He wrapped his arms around her as his tongue demanded entrance. They fought for dominance, as always, before she relented to him. She moaned as she ran her fingers through his hair, looking smug at his annoyance when she pulled away and nipped his nose playfully.

She laid her head on his muscled chest and closed her eyes with relaxation. "So, we have some time off…what do you propose we do?"

A faint blush tainted his cheeks as his stomach answered her for him. She giggled and pecked his cheek before getting up to dress. He shut the bathroom door behind him for a quick rinse off and emerged no less than five minutes later in sweats and the tight fitting black shirt.

As they meandered down to the cafeteria, they heard a barely suppressed giggling around the corner. They looked at each other knowingly, having a good idea who was making the noise. Sure enough, Launch was laughing as Raditz made some remark, leaning on him for support.

"What's so funny?" Bulma asked as they approached.

Raditz looked slightly irritated, but more amused than anything. It was then that she noticed that he had his long, unruly hair tied back. She looked at the other blue-haired woman and she nodded. "Apparently my other half got him to pull it back since he won't cut it."

The taller man rolled his eyes as she linked arms with him and followed Bulma and Vegeta to get lunch. The group sat next to Chichi and Goku, everyone but Raditz and Vegeta talking animatedly. Between mouthfuls of food, Goku asked, "What's your dad working on now?"

Bulma prodded her ramen with her chopsticks in thought before answering. "I think a better question would be: What isn't he working on? I think his main focus is the ki barrier though. He's called me in a few times for input. If we can get the network down, you guys will be able to access your ki, and we'll make swift gains towards our little revolution. Especially with saiyan blood and all."

"Of course," Vegeta cut in, "it's not just a matter of shutting down that damnable system. We'd have to find a way to keep it down long enough for us to train and get used to our energy again. It won't just pop back. We've been severely weakened over the years."

"We'll figure something out. For now, I suggest we enjoy ourselves and our break."

"Hey, B!" Bulma cringed. Plastering a false grin on, she turned around to see her ex walking up with his squad members, Puar and Maron. Yamcha's team was one of the lowest ranked in the entire resistance force. That was mostly Maron's fault for obvious reasons.

Just before they reached the table, Launch sneezed, reverting to her blonde counterpart. Raditz greeted her and she nodded. She scowled when she saw the no good cheat and his slut of a girlfriend standing next to their table. Vegeta's eye twitched.

"Hi, Yamcha. What do you need?" Bulma bit out.

"What, a guy can't just come over to say 'hello?'"

"Not like you've ever done it before."

"Well-"

"I knew it." Seeing Vegeta was done eating, she stood, and gently tugged on his arm to let him know she wanted to leave. He was more than happy to be rid of the weakling's presence.

"But I didn't even say anything, B!"

Maron pouted. "Yeah, you mean lady! Stop being rude!"

Launch snarled. She couldn't stand the hussy. "Shut up you stupid whore!" Raditz smirked. She certainly kept everyone on their toes. He liked that.

Not even bothering to look over her shoulder, she waved to her friends. "I know what you want, and the answer is no. If you want to get bumped up in rank, get a better partner or stop fucking in the middle of a mission. Vegeta and I are more than fine together. That's kind of why were first rank, dumbass."

Vegeta rolled his eyes. How his woman ever tolerated that fool was beyond him. At least he knew he had the satisfaction of being her first. Such a moron would have been unworthy of her. He allowed her to lead him to the weapons vault, where she pulled his semi-automatic and sword out. He caught them with ease when she tossed them, and strapped the sword across his back. "About damn time."

"Let's go to the training rooms."

"What happened to enjoying our time off?"

"I need to hit something. That pathetic bastard has a lot of nerve for such a coward."

"Indeed."

When they reached one of the sterile white rooms, they locked the door behind them, and Bulma waved up at Yajirobe, who was working the operating booth for this room. "So I take it we're doing this one together?"

He nodded. "With me at this pitiful level, there is more to gain by synchronizing our movements rather than training separately and being out of tune in a real fight."

She smiled. Pressing the intercom button, she commanded, "Level 62 please."

"You crazy? You're gonna get killed."

"Just do it, dumb nuts." The obese man raised his hands in mock surrender before typing in the proper code. Vegeta unsheathed his sword and Bulma pulled out her cutlasses. Robots emerged from the walls and surrounded them. Laser cannons folded out from the ceiling panels, and the gravity increased by 5 Gs. Bulma could only handle double that much whereas Vegeta could take at least 50 Gs.

A green light flashed and Bulma squeezed the trigger. Vegeta cut one of the droids in half and used another one's momentum against them as he threw it into the air where his trigger happy lover let bullets fly through its chest.

They kept fighting, dodging the lasers, and hacking down the bots until they were back to back. Vegeta dropped into a crouch as a red beam shot by, and let Bulma roll over him as she shot another one down to the side. As he hopped to his feet, he plunged the blade behind him and smelled oil leaking to the floor. He grabbed the thing by the arm and threw it in front of her so the next blast from the ceiling hit it instead. He felt the air shift as two bullets whizzed by his head and imbedded themselves in the metal skin of the training bot behind him.

They worked like a well-oiled machine, cutting down the attackers and flowing with one another's movements. By the time Vegeta bounced off the head of the last robot, ran up and leaped off of wall, and severed the last cannon from the ceiling, they sported no more than a couple scrapes, some bruises, sore muscles, and a layer of sweat.

They had demolished 120 robots, and twenty laser cannons.

…

Generations ago, the saiyans made contact with earth. Trade prospered, schools and communities integrated easily, people traveled between the two planets, and as was the inevitable, hybrids were born. At first, the King of saiyans had been outraged, but it soon became apparent that mixing human and saiyan blood produced almost abnormally strong offspring. They were welcomed into society. At one point, one of the saiyan royalty had a half-blood as well. Genes were mixed up. The children of those children of those children mated between saiyans and humans indiscriminately.

Of course, there were many who were opposed to crossbreeding and integration, but it was a time of change, and they were ignored for the most part.

Vegeta, Kakarot (or Goku, as he like to be called), Raditz, and every other saiyan on earth was a result of mixed breeding. It was actually impossible to track because almost everyone had the blood of the respective aliens flowing through them, even if it was only a miniscule percent. Those whose genetics ran strongly, however, like the earlier mentioned, were easy to distinguish. At first, the warrior race had worried that they would become weak, but if anything, they got stronger with each generation.

After nearly seven centuries of this harmony between what was now considered one race that became known as Hybrids, tragedy struck. Vegeta-sei was destroyed when a meteor collided with it. Then, nearly twenty years ago, the Red Ribbon Army overthrew the world's government. A full-blood human, Dr. Gero took the reins in the wake of the catastrophe as dictator. He knew the saiyan hybrids were a serious threat, even matched against his androids. So, he created a vast network, like a grid, that stretched everywhere. Projected from the ground and satellites, it covered the globe like a second skin, and prevented any ki access for saiyans or humans. His obedient androids and volunteers for the cause made up his army. He ruled over the world with an iron fist, decimating small towns, cutting off water, raising taxes, drafting children into his army, everything.

Bulma and her father had been trying to disable that system for years.

When Gero first came into power, a Namekian named Piccolo, Raditz and Kakarot's father, Bardock, and Master Roshi had helped Dr. Briefs set up the resistance that grew into a large subculture. They were abducted when Goku was about four. No one expected them to be alive.

Vegeta's father had been killed while trying to get him and his mother to a base when he was five. Gero was hunting them down because they were the royal family, and he wanted them dead. Only he and his mother made it to the base, but he was alone two days later. She had been poisoned. He never got to meet his little brother. No one did. They were incinerated and their ashes returned to the earth. That was the last day the hybrid prince cried.

Bulma's mother had fallen ill during one of the underground bases' construction. Her lungs became infected, and her throat swelled up until she suffocated.

Now, at the ages of 22 and 24, Bulma and Vegeta were still determined to end the war. They would accept nothing less than total victory.

…

The next day, Bulma was down in her lab while Vegeta sparred with Goku. The armor that the saiyans first brought when the two races met had stopped being made when Vegeta-sei blew up and no one had been able to replicate or improve the material since. The only pieces left were antiques and worth a lot of money.

She was incredibly close to perfecting her prototype. If she got it right, they would be able to withstand a number of attacks from gun fire, to actual fire. Of course, it would be years before they could go into mass production, but she was more focused on getting the damn thing to work first.

Meanwhile, he side-stepped the incoming fist with grace and ease. How he longed for the day when he would battle with the aid of his ki. It would be a wondrous sight. But, for now, he was reduced to the strength of an exceptionally skilled and powerful human.

Kakarot flew at him with his leg extended, which he grabbed to throw him to the floor. The younger man caught himself on his palms, and used his other leg to kick the prince on the side of his head.

Neither of them had noticed a growing crowd at the glass panel that was the wall separating sparring rooms. Nor did they notice bets being made.

Fighting each other, they both found something invigorating. Like they were born to beat the crap out of one another. It felt so right to be pummeling their rival with their fists. They fought often, but always managed to bring a surprise or two.

They locked horns as they tried to win the knockout. The crowd was yelling and hollering, but they didn't notice. All they knew was the fight.

"You're slipping, Kakarot," he grunted as he gave another punch.

"Not as fast as you, Vegeta," he replied as he ducked under the fist.

Only a few more blows were exchanged before they landed simultaneous hits to their faces. Both fell to the ground, and the mob waited with baited breath. Vegeta slowly hauled himself to his feet. There was much screaming, cursing, and the sound of money being handed to smug gamblers.

Vegeta couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Pft. Welcome to the Revolution."

A/N: And…another one. There are two more (both AU) that I'll get around to posting, but my plan is to not get stuck on one thing. So, if you like my other stuff, you can alternate between stories, and I won't feel pressured to churn out updates every five seconds. Win-win.