Part 1:

The bloodshot eyes of every terrified person who stumbled down the underground corridor was wide in horror. Echoes of dragging footsteps sounded down the stone hallway. Pale faces lined every wall, most keeping an eye on what little possessions they had left. Even the children seemed to realize the severity of the situation and clung either to teddy bears or their parents. Every square inch of floor space was covered by the now homeless of South City, plus any other town recently ransacked by the Saiyans.

Despite the constant murmur of the crowd, there wasn't one person who missed the annoying squeak of the door as it inched open. A collective breath was held as a booted foot landed just inside the room. If it was one of the ruthless Saiyans…

There was a soft grunt, then the door was flung aside, a scraggly-looking woman, exhausted and barely standing, appeared in the doorway. The arrival of this one person -- the scientist responsible for their current safety -- had been eagerly anticipated, and she seemed to know it.

 She smiled wryly and looked up, blue eyes dancing. "Is everyone here?"

Without waiting for an answer, she reached behind her, fingers closing around the small hand of a little boy and pulling him into the room next to her. Black eyes downcast and dark hair blood-matted, he clutched the woman's pant leg, glancing out at the masses in utter terror. The woman knelt by his side, smoothing back his wild black hair and pulling him closer, stiffly shaking her head.

He didn't know that she was the only person capable of saving the entire countryside through her father's system of channels under every town. Nor did the poor kid know what she'd been through, that her already frayed nerves were at the breaking point because of the recent deaths in Gingertown, including his father's arch rival, Piccolo. All he knew was that this lady saved him, and was protecting him, even from this many people.

One man, dressed in black rags stepped forward, clearing his throat. She looked wearily over her young charge's head. "Miss Briefs?" he questioned softly. "I have something to tell you."

"Please. Call me Bulma," she answered, business-like tone taking charge. When she saw the look in the man's eyes, her heart dropped to the bottom of her torn combat boots. "Who now?" she whispered. There was a quick cough, and the guy started to rock back and forth, dark blue eyes glued to the ground. Her heart continued to sink, and she swallowed thickly noticing how the mass of people was getting restless. "Well?" she demanded harshly.

"In the last battle…" he began, jamming his hands in his pockets and refusing to look at her. Shaking his head, the man took a deep breath. "Yamcha." He inwardly winced when Bulma took in a hissing breath, knowing her attachment to the fighter.

The little boy whimpered as Bulma's hand tightened on his convulsively, trying to pull away. She didn't seem to notice, and used the back of her blood-splattered sleeve to wipe the gathering tears from her eyes as she stood. Nodding sharply, Bulma stood and glared out at the crowd, pulling the 4-year-old up next to her.

Bulma opened her mouth, but the mumbling crowd's horrified attention was on the kid's waving tail. "You brought a SAIYAN here?!" one particularly brave man demanded, standing to get a better look at the shaking boy.

Blue eyes fierce, the genius went to respond when a woman interrupted. "This is the only safe place we have, and you're bringing a killer here!" More jeers and swears came from the masses, making the already terrified boy clutch Bulma's hand even tighter.

Once his grip was at the point that nearly broke her hand, she picked him up to lock eyes with him. Gohan trembled and hugged her, tail winding around her wrist. Bulma glared at the screaming audience, who still hadn't noticed how close to a nervous breakdown the poor boy was.

"What about Son Goku?" she shouted, getting most of the talkers silent in a second. "HE was a Saiyan too. And he fought FOR Earth." When the shouting returned, she scowled and shook her head. "They'll never learn." With that, she grabbed the filthy sleeve of the man nearest to her and yanked him closer. "I'm going south to the site of the last raid. If they ever shut up long enough, dim the lights and tell them to get some sleep. We're on the move tomorrow."

Gohan looked up at his savior, wide-eyed as she marched over to the door. Glancing over his shoulder, the young half-breed trotted behind her, still shaking. "I wanna come too."

Not having the heart -- or the needed courage -- to turn down the kid, Bulma grinned. "Sure. Just stay close."

Again all was silent as the door squealed opened, half the people wincing at the high-pitched sound. The click echoed in the half-darkness as Bulma quietly shut the door behind them.

 ============================================

Two sets of exhausted eyes scanned the totally destroyed area that used to be the bustling city of Gingertown. Bulma sighed heavily and leaned against a miraculously standing wall, running a bloodied hand through her fine blue hair. "This is ridiculous. They ALWAYS leave at least THREE survivors."

Gohan shivered, getting a bad feeling from the ghost town. "I wanna go." Bulma held out her arm and he wrapped his around her waist, crying into her ragged shirt. "I want Mommy. And Daddy."

Blue eyes closed as the brutal death of his mother crossed her mind once again. She'd seen her friend beat to death a thousand times in memory; no less than the killing of her own parents the Saiyans had forced her to witness. She was only glad that Gohan hadn't been there when Chi Chi died. It was too much for a little kid to handle. Especially when the Saiyan responsible looked like his dad's twin. The little boy would be scarred for life after that. As if he wouldn't be already.

/And all because she was Goku's wife,/ she thought with a growl. Gohan looked up at her, then turned, sensitive ears picking up more than her vocalized anger. /And me because I was his friend. Damn them. What do they want anyway?/

"Go AWAY!" Gohan's shouts suddenly broke through her thoughts, and it didn't sound like the first time he'd said it. She raised an eyebrow as his small power steadily rose until she thought it could pass Goku's. "Leave us ALONE!"

Bulma brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and turned to see a man much taller than she and built like a linebacker lean against the cracked half-wall next to him, shaking his bald head. The man was covered in blood from head to toe and didn't look like he should be sitting under his own power let alone walking around. She assumed that he competed in the tournaments because of his relatively high ki, but it was nowhere near her late best friend's.

"It's okay, Gohan," she said, smiling at the guy as she put a hand on the little boy's head. /Even with power like that he needs medical attention. And of course the first place they go after is Kami's Lookout and Korin's Tower. Bastards./

As she started toward him, a shockingly strong hand latched onto her wrist and pulled her back. "No. He's a bad man." Gohan scowled at the smirking bodybuilder.

"He only LOOKS like a bad man," Bulma explained. "See? He's hurt. We have to help him." Something about the battle must have worn off on the man because Gohan was just like his father: one could trust his instincts about bad vibes right away. Unfortunately, hers were telling her to get this guy help now and ask questions later. And hers were louder than his.

The bald man's black eyes were haunting and empty, eyes she'd only seen on the face of her best friend's killer. He kept his muscular arms folded across his waist while he leaned on the stone ledge that used to the windowsill of a doctor's office. He smirked at Gohan, then the expression dropped, along with his jaw, when the little boy's tail popped out from under his shirt. A look that was starting to get more and more common.

"He's… a SAIYAN," the guy said in what sounded like amazement. "I thought…" His fingers twitched toward his back before he seemed to realize what he was doing. Then he looked down at his hand and smirked. Gohan whimpered but stepped in front of Bulma once again.

Bulma mistook his smirk for an expression of concern and smiled consolingly. "Don't worry. He's only half. And he won't hurt you." She didn't give the man time to reply as she looked him over. "How many others are still alive?"

Dark eyes half-closed before he grinned. "One. Me and my buddy." The scientist didn't notice the amusement lurking in the cold expression.

Bulma's eyes clouded with tears and she didn't know whether they were because she was so upset or so pissed off. "We've GOT to stop them. When we get back I'm pushing the tests up another month. This CAN'T keep happening!" She looked down at Gohan and tried to gel back his hair with her hand. "It CAN'T."

Baldy raised an eyebrow and Gohan jumped at the movement. It seemed expressions were merely tools at his disposal. The little Saiyan ran behind Bulma, shaking. "Bad man," he whispered, grabbing for the scientist's pant leg again. "Very bad man."

"What tests?" he inquired casually, slinging a leg over the reddened edge of the wall.

Bulma watched his movements and noticed he didn't seem affected by the fact that he was covered in blood and SHOULD be losing more. The fact that he wasn't concerned her, and even more so the calm air he had about the city being leveled, probably before his very eyes. Finally it hit her that Gohan was right and the first thing she should do was get the hell away.

She kept all this to herself and backed up a few paces. "We've been trying to find a way to stop the Saiyans. A new weapon, using a simulation of something called ki is being developed. If we can make it strong enough, we might have a chance." Every cell was screaming "IDIOT" for giving this guy the information, but there was nothing she could do now. Bulma cast a worried look back at Gohan and continued to walk away from Baldy.

"I doubt it," he replied coldly, smirking at her. Bulma's eyes widened as he unraveled his tail from around his waist and waved it at his side. "But thanks for the information, woman. It will be very useful to me."

Baldy's hand went to his back and dug out something Bulma recognized as a power detector. She'd fixed the one that belonged to the Saiyan that killed the Son family. She glanced at Gohan, knowing how his power fluctuated. Without thinking, she grabbed his hand and ran.

She knew the Saiyans were fast, faster than Goku, but she didn't expect him to appear right in front of her, one finger on the button attached to the eyepiece, the other curling into a fist. Bulma threw Gohan away as the beefy hand connected, and she saw stars.

She didn't feel the impact when she hit the ground, or the pain at first for that matter. All she could do was lay there, helpless. Gohan cried nearby, ki shooting up at a rapid pace. Bulma heard the strange language end and the beep go off seconds before the reading showed up. And before the man reached for the kid.

The blood pooling in her mouth spilled out onto the ground without her really noticing as she tried to push herself to her knees. /I promised Goku, and I promised Chi Chi before she died that I would protect him. I WILL get Gohan back!/ That thought in mind, she grunted and forced her body to go against the pain. Blue eyes fell on the pair and she growled, finally staggering to her feet only to fall back again.

The Saiyan chuckled and lifted Gohan up by his throat. "Impressive, for a rodent. This must be Kakorrot's little brat, the one that weakened Radditz so much." Gohan continued to struggle and Bulma sat up, jaw still numb. She somehow knew that he had been holding back more than he thought he did, otherwise her head would still be rolling.

Bulma did the first thing she could think of. She reached out, grabbed Gohan by the tail and pulled gently on it, as not to hurt the boy and get his attention. "It's all right, son."

Black eyes widened and the warrior looked from Gohan to Bulma in disbelief. "This runt isn't yours," he growled, shaking her hand off of him.

Bulma swallowed thickly and stood up, head starting to throb. "Yes he is. Mine and Goku's."

The Saiyan looked astounded, then smirked. "I see. One woman who can up the power of a third-class warrior's son up to an Elite is worthy of the king's attention." He looked down to Gohan, who yawned in exhaustion from powering up.

/Kami, I swear to you one day I WILL learn to keep my mouth shut./ Bulma glared at him, putting her hands on her hips. The pain was settling in, but that wouldn't stop her. "Then he'll have to make an appointment with my secretary," she growled. "I'm a busy woman."

"Then let me extend the king's… invitation," Baldy said with a warning smirk, raising his hand. Gohan's sleepy eyes opened long enough to see this and his energy shot through the roof, making the numbers in the eyepiece rise before it exploded off his ear. /This CAN'T be good. Now he's PISSED too./ Bulma swallowed thickly, knowing Gohan wouldn't be much more help after he showed his power.

Instead of killing the kid, the Saiyan put him under his arm and reached for Bulma. "VERY interested, indeed." Baldy smirked as his fingers brushed her sleeve.

The scientist batted his hand away. "I'm not going anywhere. My son and I are going HOME." She didn't even see the blow coming until she ended up some meters away, spitting out more teeth and blood, but it seemed the new gaps in her mouth weren't done bleeding.

"I'm not ordered to bring you unharmed, woman. It would be in your best interest to obey me."

Never losing eye contact with him, Bulma got to her feet and glared at him proudly. She spit out the blood pooling inside her mouth on the tip of his white boot, then crossed her arms and allowed him to pick her up one-handed. Bulma said nothing while he flew, only kept an eye on Gohan's snoring form. She then noticed than when he'd picked her up, his hand had hit the emergency button on her watch. The other would be okay.

/As long as I distract these morons things might be all right after all./

 ============================================

Despite her fears, concerns, and the fact that he could probably tear her head off merely by thinking about it, Bulma whirled around to face him. Used to constantly looking down at Gohan -- who she noticed was missing from the warrior's arms -- her neck protested looking up so high. His request -- no, order -- was utterly ridiculous, and she planned on letting him know and worry about the consequences to her life later. He only glanced down at her like she was heading his "kill-when-convenient" list, which was perfectly fine with her.

"I am NOT going in there like THIS!" Bulma gestured to her blood-stained ragged clothes, the red path trailing from her chin to her waist, and her general disarray. The Saiyan was unimpressed. "It'll be a cold day in hell before I set foot inside that room," she clarified, crossing her arms and daring him to say anything.

"You don't know when to shut your mouth, do you woman?" he asked with an amused smirk.

"Not really," she admitted, crossing her arms. "And my name is BULMA. I would appreciate you using it."

The Saiyan snorted, but his next comment was cut off as another voice rang out and a bulky arm settled on his broad shoulder. "Nappa!" Bulma saw the fighter turn to give what looked like the royal guard a death glare. /So, the bastard has a name./

The scientist blew her bangs out of her face in irritation as they continued to talk. It annoyed the hell out of her that she couldn't understand a word they were saying other than her captor's name. What REALLY pissed her off was the tone of voice the newcomer used. She didn't like it. Or the looks he was constantly giving her. OR the fact that he made 6-foot, neck-like-a-fire-hydrant, arms-like-a-machine-gun Nappa look like some goody-two-shoes Boy Scout. She gulped every time the Saiyan caught her eye, then looked at the shorter warrior and saw that he was doing nothing to discourage the man.

Finally the guy said something to tick off the already irritated Saiyan, and the next thing the guard saw was Nappa's ham-sized fist, then a totally white wall streaked with his own blood. Bulma's eyes widened at the sound of the impact and watched as Nappa stalked over to the warrior, giving him hell about whatever he'd just said. The guard shivered and nodded furiously, sending cracked plaster tumbling onto his injured head. Nappa bent down low to threaten the guy, speaking as though Bulma might not only hear, but understand. The man glanced back at her, black eyes wide with fear. He then dragged his gaze back to Nappa and nodded once, slowly.

Satisfied, Nappa let him up and turned back to Bulma. "Now woman," he began, then paused when he heard the guard running down the hall: it was the only sound she could pick up. "The king awaits."

Bulma crossed her arms with a dark scowl. "Didn't we just HAVE this conversation? It ended in 'NO.' Remember now?"

Inwardly, Nappa was impressed. He'd shown her a good part of his strength, even slapped her hard enough to knock most humans out for weeks, and she STILL didn't know when to keep her mouth shut. He smirked and leaned toward her and watched her flinch just the tiniest bit. After that display, he didn't really blame her. Blue eyes locked onto his black ones, a bit warily, but still defiant.

/Yes, the king will certainly have a hard time breaking this one./ "Listen, woman, and listen well," he growled in the same voice that he'd used with the guard. "The king is expecting his new slave, and whether you walk in on your own two feet or you crawl is entirely YOUR decision." Bulma bristled at being called a slave and she glared at him. Nappa straightened to his full height and smirked at her. "Again, woman. Will you walk?"

"I'll do whatever I damn please," Bulma replied stubbornly, leaning back against the door.

Nappa smirked and leaned in even closer, noses almost touching. Bulma blinked a few times, then blew in his eyes. The Saiyan's smirk only widened with a predatory look, and the blue-haired woman shivered.

"Let me tell you a few things woman. If you want to come out of there in one piece, I suggest that you learn how to keep you mouth shut for longer than 5 seconds. The king's temper is much, MUCH shorter than mine, and much more violent." He raised an eyebrow, asking her if she understood. Then he leaned back and waited.

"Thanks for the tips, but since I'm not going in there, I won't have to worry about it," she stated simply, sneering at him.

Nappa leaned on the wall next to her, then smiled and reached behind her. Bulma froze as she felt his hand brushing her lower back, then sent him a half-confused, half-relieved glare that he didn't do anything more than make a fist. Nappa's smile morphed into a grin as he stood away from the wall and ceremoniously threw open the door. Not expecting the move, Bulma tumbled back and laid sprawled on the floor.

"Bastard," she hissed, getting to her feet under the stares of many Saiyan eyes.

She brushed off imaginary dust and gave a full round of glares. Obviously these people weren't used to alien women falling into their banquet hall/throne room. Managing to keep certain parts covered enough to disappoint most of the men, she smirked as she realized what a scene she made. Giving sneers and smirks to all, she turned her attention toward the front of the room.

With as much pride as she could muster, Bulma glared down the carpeted path to the other side of the room where a Saiyan sat. She estimated that the throne was at least three times his 5-foot, 10-inch frame, plus the hair that shot straight up, adding almost another foot to his height. Gloved fingers rapped impatiently on the armrest, black eyes zeroed in on her.

Bulma noticed the moment the blank, bored look in his eyes turned to lust, and she groaned. Lifting her chin, she continued her march through the room, stopping a few yards from the seated king. "You called?" she asked sarcastically, crossing her arms. Someone knelt behind her, and from the slight hiss of warning, she surmised it was Nappa.

One black eyebrow shot into his receding hairline and he looked at her, then looked her over, stopping in most of the places other men did. It didn't help that most of the places weren't covered either. Bulma only scowled and endured.

/O, yeah. This keeps getting better and better. I KNOW I'm beautiful, but why do all the CREEPS have to notice?/ She growled when he licked his lips and glared past her at what she assumed was another Saiyan.

When the king nodded in approval, Bulma felt a chill travel up her spine. She felt a pair of greedy eyes on her back and knew who it was right away; she could tell when a normal person was looking at her and when Chi Chi's killer was looking at her. She slowly turned and came face-to-face -- or more like narrow-to-face since he was taller -- with the Saiyan that was Goku gone bad.

He smirked at her before kneeling next to Nappa, focusing on the tear going from thigh to knee and revealing more than she wanted. Bulma hissed and glared at him, not trusting herself to move for fear Nappa would restrain her. She turned an interesting shade of red, but whether it was from anger or embarrassment she wasn't quite sure.

"Turles, I'm glad you made it back," Nappa said with a smile at his partner. The new slave stiffened, entire body tight as she realized Nappa had been working with the murderer.

Bulma was about to open her mouth when the king's arm lashed out. She couldn't see the beam, but she felt the man's ki skyrocket. By the time she'd completely turned around, a shorter duplicate of the king had rolled out from the shadowed corner, right arm singed and hair smoking.

"Prince Vegeta," the warriors at her back said in unison, both nodding respectfully. He only scowled and fixed his dark eyes on his father in a death glare. He then seemed to notice Bulma and one eyebrow raised in surprise, then lowered as his eyes narrowed.

Then the prince smirked, crossing his arms. "Why, if it isn't the trouble-making wench." How he knew who she was was beyond her, but at the moment she didn't quite care.

Nappa could see Bulma gearing up for another yelling fest and sighed. Turles only smirked at the prince knowingly, a very Saiyan look. Vegeta's eyes instantly searched the woman's body, scanning for any marks that proved she was his. Nappa elbowed his partner and glared at him.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"You're gonna get yourself KILLED!" Nappa hissed, arm meeting the other man's armored ribs a second time. Turles only smiled at him and bowed his head again.

The scientist ignored the warriors and turned her attention to the royal men. "My NAME is BULMA!" she screamed, making the king's hand go up to his now injured ear. "I am not 'WOMAN,' I am not 'WENCH.' I am BULMA, and I expect to be called by it!" That said, she glared at the king, only to find that his smirk had broadened.

"Vegeta, escort this woman to my quarters." Bulma's eyes widened in outrage, as did Vegeta's. Her mouth opened scant seconds after Vegeta's did.

"My training is about to start," he said in a stiff monotone, glaring at Bulma as if it were her fault.

"Don't look at ME, you flea-bitten monkey," she hissed, crossing her arms. "It's not like I WANTED to be here. Baldy 'invited' me." She then turned her heated gaze on the king. "Call me old-fashioned, but next time just send a CARD."

He blatantly ignored her and looked at his son. "No amount of training will make YOU any stronger, brat. Take her, NOW."

The prince's rage grew, and so did his ki. Bulma realized that he was unconsciously holding back, something rare for Saiyans. Then he smirked and glanced at her, and Bulma went stiff. He wasn't going to… She shrugged it off and scowled at them both.

Vegeta shrugged and grabbed Bulma, hoisting her over his shoulder, hand sliding up a little too far for her comfort. "Don't even THINK about it, asshole," Bulma hissed, tempted to pound his back. Instead she grabbed his tail and squeezed. Nothing. She groaned and locked her hands on his wrist in an iron grip.

Vegeta only let his fingers wander higher as he carried her out. Bulma gulped when she saw the king's face and realized EXACTLY what kind of slave she was going to be. If the prince didn't get to her first.

 ============================================

Even in the hallway, Vegeta continued to slide his hand up her leg at an excruciatingly slow pace as he glanced at her face with a smirk. It was contorted with fury, and her grip tightened on his wrist even more for every inch he advanced. There was also fear, and that was nothing the prince enjoyed more.

Bulma closed her eyes and scowled, then did the only thing she could think of: she clamped her jaws down on the side of the prince's neck. After a few seconds of pressure, the skin broke and Vegeta halted in his tracks. Almost as if he were automated, he dropped her behind him and reached up to the wound in wonder.

She took the half-second advantage she had and shoved herself to her feet, running down the corridors in the opposite direction he'd been taking her. /All right, let's NOT try that again,/ Bulma growled mentally, wanting to nurse her sore mouth. /I think I broke something important. Like my entire bottom jaw./

In the back of her mind, she wondered what was taking Vegeta so long, as there was no way she could ever outrun a Saiyan, then what looked like a lab caught her frantic eye. Despite her desperate pleas for her legs to keep going, she slowed down to a full stop in front of the door.

Shrugging, Bulma rolled her eyes. "Kami I hate fate. It's a pain in my ass," she muttered as she went to work reprogramming the door so that it wouldn't let anyone else in after her. With a flourish she stepped back and grinned as it hissed open, hands on her hips. "So primitive. It KILLS me!"

Stepping inside, she drew a quick breath at all the equipment. Most of which she'd never seen before, and her grin widened into something that resembled a 5-year-old on his first trip to a toy store.

That was, in fact, what she was thinking. /All right. New toys! I take it back. They're about as up-to-date as my lab./ With a slight whistle she ran her hand along the edge of a machine whose purpose was as of yet undetermined. Bulma shook her head in wonder, wanting to stop and examine each and every thing that made noise, but that would involve more time than she had left in her life.

Outside she heard the beep that meant someone was trying to get in. Shrugging carelessly, she went back to her scrutiny of this latest model, then straightened when there was an explosion. With a groan, she turned to face Vegeta, who smirked at her, controls to the door in hand. Or, what USED to be the controls to the door.

"Impressive, woman. Especially for a weak, inferior race such as your own." With that, he tossed down the shattered box and focused his hungry black eyes on her. "Now, come, before I get angry."

"I am so afraid," she replied in a dull monotone. Then she sneered and her tone turned sarcastic. "I'm shaking in my boots about a guy who has a power level of roughly a thousand. O, help." She saw that she'd hit a chord there and smirked. "So, Daddy wasn't kidding when he said the baby really WAS a baby."

"Silence, woman!" Vegeta snapped, closing the last few feet between them in two strides. "If you were actually WORTH the time to kill, I would do it."

Bulma blatantly ignored his comment and grinned at him. "Where's my son?"

The prince looked startled, then leaned in, hand coming up around her throat. She closed her eyes, waiting for it to squeeze. When he only shoved her against the wall, she was shocked and opened one eye. He was smirking at her again, and Bulma silently vowed to come up with a way to wipe it off permanently. /If I live that long./

"Woman, don't test my patience any more than you already have," Vegeta warned. "You've never been pregnant, so how can you have a son?"

"Adoption?" she suggested, then glared at him. "And how would YOU know?" she hissed.

"It's not difficult," he responded with a sneer. "Virgins are always more balanced than others. Besides, they walk like they've been riding one of those small Earth beasts for too long. And they smell differently."

"So because I'm more graceful than you and I supposedly walk bow-legged you assume I don't have a son. And I'm not even going to go into you smelling me," Bulma summarized. Vegeta shrugged and she growled. "What if I tell you you're wrong?"

"It doesn't matter to the king, woman." Vegeta reached for her again and this time she let him pick her up with no verbal comment. The red mark on his neck stood out vividly against his pale skin and she smirked.

/If I LIKED this asshole I could help him not be such a damn wimp. Then again, he IS an asshole./ Bulma scowled and crossed her arms, not even bothering to try to stop the prince when his hand again slipped through the hole in her pants. Focusing her eyes on a faraway spot, she growled and gritted her teeth.

Bulma's eyes lit up as she noticed the lock to the king's chambers was like the one to the lab. /I'll be out of here before the sun sets,/ she thought gleefully. /All I have to do is find Gohan./

She was thrown none too gently on the bed as Vegeta stalked over to reprogram the locks. /Well, he's not as stupid as he looks,/ she admitted. /Because he DOES look pretty damn stupid./

Vegeta scowled at her as she idly ran her hands over the quilt and rolled her eyes. "You will wait here until the king comes to get you," he commanded, crossing his arms. "If you survive, then you'll also stay here until dismissed by him."

"Whatever," Bulma said, waving her hand at him. The prince tensed and he glared at her. She felt his power rise another 300, but for the life of her she couldn't figure out why. He was holding back more than 5,000.

Vegeta snorted, seeing that she looked thoughtful. Already he was realizing all hell was about to break loose when she got that look. "Then you understand, woman? I will not repeat myself."

"Yeah, yeah," she replied, locking eyes with him as her hand came across something connected to the wall. Something that felt very much like important wires. "Go and get the hell away from me before I insult your royal ass again."

"This room is monitored, woman," he clarified as he stepped toward the door. "Don't try to escape. You won't like the consequences." She stuck her tongue out at him and smirked as he shook his head and closed the door. Her hand tightened on the wire and she grinned. /All right. Saiyans are SO stupid. Who else would lock me in a room that's electronically EVERYTHING?/ With that, she yanked the wire out and watched with satisfaction as the lock's light blinked, then faded. She then went to work setting up a hologram of herself in the room to play for the cameras, locating Gohan and all the other fun stuff normal 6-year-olds did with their fathers.

 ============================================

The cries were finally starting to wear on his short-tempered nerves. Never really liking children anyway, this was just another reason the blast the pest into atom-sized chunks. But he'd promised the king he'd watch the brat because of his high power level, and here he was. Totally pissed-off and ready to kill something. Or someONE, preferably.

"I thought you would be having fun, Nappa," a voice chided from behind him and the older Saiyan growled.

"Shut up, Turles. It ain't exactly entertaining listening to that kid wail. Powerful lungs, that's all I gotta say."

Turles smirked at him, leaning against the wall and cocking his head. "I heard he blew up your scouter. Pretty powerful period." He glanced at the door thoughtfully. "I shouldn't be surprised. He IS my nephew."

Nappa snorted. "Get over yourself. Now. Besides, the three of you nitwits only shared a father. He's your HALF nephew."

Goku's look-alike shrugged carelessly. "Close enough. Had Kakorrot gotten the right training I'm sure he would've been more than enough of a challenge for Radditz. You too, for that matter."

Nappa raised an eyebrow and smirked. "I think that you should get checked out by Recovery," Nappa muttered, then stood. "I can't take any more of that brat! I'm gonna kill the little bastard!"

Turles barely got in the way and braced himself against the wall while holding his partner back. "Calm down, will you? I'll take care of it." Seeing that the bald Saiyan wasn't going to go on another rampage in the immediate future, he nodded. "Sit and relax. Gods know, you need it."

The warrior scowled and slumped in his seat, glaring at the darkness beyond the door as Turles stepped inside. Gohan stopped crying and grinned at the man, slowly getting to his feet. "Daddy!"

/Yeah, this is Kakorrot's brat for sure. He even LOOKS like him./ Turles shook his head and knelt, picking up Gohan by the tail and looking at his tear-streaked face. "No. I'm not your dad, kid. I'm your new trainer. From now on, we'll be spending a LOT of time together." He smirked at the boy and nodded to himself. /And then we'll see just how powerful this kid is./

 ============================================

Bulma scowled as she pressed herself against the wall, Gohan's hand squeezed tightly in hers. The boy didn't complain, or even whimper as he usually did. It had been a trip and a half trying to get her "son" away from the Saiyans, especially without attempting to kill one of them. But all that mattered was that they were almost free. From the map readings, the space pods were just down the hall, the last door on the right. The only problem was that the dock was a popular place, and with her coloring it was hard to get past the Saiyans without them noticing. It wasn't everyday a woman with bright blue hair walked in and asked to borrow a ship.

She sighed and shook her head, free hand coming down to rustle Gohan's hair. "Wanna go home," he whispered, burying his face in her ragged jeans.

"We're almost there," Bulma promised sternly, giving his hand a gentle tug. "Come on. But we have to run. Can you keep up?" Gohan paused before nodding vigorously. "Then come on."

Still clutching his hand like a lifeline, Bulma took a deep breath and sprang into the hall, dashing past the oncoming Saiyans. They had barely enough time to register what they saw before she sprinted around a corner. Blue eyes widened and a grin started to form as she saw an empty ship, completely open, not 10 feet from where they were. Gohan smiled as Bulma chuckled, then started to yell as a dark shadow swooped them up.

"NO!" Bulma screamed as she saw the ship growing distant. The wind picked up in dangerous leaps and bounds and she closed her eyes.

Strong arms tightened around her and she wheezed for a moment before they loosened just enough for her to breathe. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Vegeta's stern face glaring at her as he finally pulled to a halt some 500 feet above the docking bay.

"You BASTARD!" Bulma growled, twisting in his arms. "You couldn't wait 10 SECONDS, could you? 3 feet, that was it! 3 FEET!" She nearly broke down crying when she realized how close liberation had been.

Gohan reached over to her and Vegeta's hand slapped his away. Bulma quickly swatted at the prince's scouter before Gohan's power rose, knowing it would only get them both in farther over their heads. As it was she was going to be dead by dawn. And she didn't know WHAT would happen to Gohan.

"Brat," Vegeta hissed, extending the arm holding Goku's son away from his body. "Don't try me."

"Vegeta, don't. He's only a little boy," Bulma pleaded, watching the fury in Gohan's eyes skip to fear.

"I am PRINCE Vegeta," he growled, drawing the shaking child back again. "Remember that, wench."

Bulma chose to remain silent, then glared up at him. "And that, PRINCE, is my son." She looked significantly at Gohan, hoping he wouldn't say anything that proved otherwise.

Vegeta snorted. "He looks nothing like you."

Bulma raised an eyebrow. "There's something called GENETICS that says black hair shows up more than my color does. He's Goku's son."

"Kakorrot?" Vegeta's eyes lit up and he smiled -- actually SMILED -- at the horrified hybrid. "Then I guess the brat has some use after all. I've heard of his power. I hope you aren't lying to me, wench. For HIS sake." That he said for any who might be listening below. Bulma winced as he brought his mouth next to her ear and whispered, "It would be entertaining for the king to know the truth, woman."

His threat being made, Vegeta landed, setting her free for the moment. Bulma sighed and sat down while the prince ordered around his underlings. The day was already going downhill, and a little voice in the back of her mind went: /And it's only Monday./

 ============================================

Bulma grunted and tried to reach her arm above her head. Not possible with a dislocated shoulder that was broken only halfway. That and the muscle than ran the span of her back was bruised, as were the ribs under it. The three on her front left side were DEFINITELY broken in more than one place, and several other injuries made her immobile. All in all, it was a BAD day.

/Once I figure out how to move without feeling like whatever is gonna fall off, I WILL find a way to kill that bastard. All 3 of them!/ Bulma knew it was Turles who had given her her punishment, and Vegeta who had watched stoically, but she knew that he'd enjoyed every bit of it. /The sadistic little bastard. Memo to me: don't EVER get whipped in front of him again. That, and track down the king to kill him too. It's his damn fault./

Bulma finally got her aches and pain down to a dull roar as she pulled herself to her feet and somehow made it to the bathroom. She immediately turned on the tap to hot bath water, only wanting to soak. Looking back to see how many blankets she'd scattered, Bulma wasn't surprised to find a bloody trail marking her path. Shaking her head, she slowly stripped the bloodied cloth away from her injuries, wincing as she did so. She slowly added sweet-smelling bubble bath with a small smile.

The clothes were little more than rags and Bulma sighed, tossing them in a forgotten corner as she stepped into the tub. While the heat had felt good to her uninjured hand, her lacerated flesh didn't agree. Without thinking, she let out a scream, then lost her precious balance and toppled into the steaming water. No wonder her shrieks brought three guards running. Plus, the prince, since he was on his way to see her anyway.

The four men burst into the room, black eyes darting everywhere until they rested on the slightly ajar door that led to the bathroom. The guards stayed put while Vegeta marched over and shoved it open, rage showing openly on his face.

"Wench, what the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded hotly, crossing her arms. Bulma, being quite naked and using only the bubbles as a shield, decided this was one of those times she should stay silent. "You are wasting the time of my guards with your hysterical antics. I would like an explanation."

Seeing that his royal pain-in-the-ass wasn't about to budge until she complied, the scientist scowled and raised one arm slightly out of the pink-tinted water to show the abrasions. "It hurt," she answered in a civil tone. At his disgusted look, she scowled. "I'm only human."

Vegeta snorted and tuned his back. Bulma took the opportunity to reach for a towel and wrap it around herself, despite the fact that that was the only thing she had to dry herself with. "Yes, such a weak species. Even IF Kakorrot lost his memory, he should've destroyed the damn planet anyway. It's pathetic."

Bulma sighed, drawing the prince's attention. "Can you at least give me something else to wear?" she asked pleasantly, though it was through gritted teeth. /I swear, if I was dressed…/

"Do I look like a slave to you?" Vegeta inquired haughtily. "*I* should be asking YOU these things."

"You would ask ME to get YOU clothes while your royal smallness is in the tub?" Bulma inquired with a smirk. The Saiyan's eyes narrowed and she smirked. "Anyway, go tell Dumb, Dumber and Dumbest to get me some clothes. I'm not going ANYWHERE in a TOWEL!"

He looked interested and Bulma instantly kicked herself underwater. "Concerning the reason I'm here, wench," Vegeta continued, eyeing her carefully. "The king wishes to tell you that starting tomorrow you will work in the labs to create anything and everything he tells you to."

"I'll think about it," Bulma growled, crossing her arms over her half-bared chest. "Now, about my clothes…"

"What's wrong with the ones you have?" Vegeta asked, cocking his head with a smirk. Bulma growled and glared at him, finding the edge of the tub and leaning against it irritably. Looking at him, she decided he was definitely trying to provoke her and scowled.

"Well, considering the fact that MOST of them are still stuck to my back, I think it could be a problem. Or, if you just go AWAY, I'll get more for myself."

He looked amused and nodded. "Fine, wench. The men are outside so you can place your request." He cracked the door even wider, and Bulma instantly blushed.

Determined not to let him know how much he got under her skin, she sucked in a deep breath and screamed as loud as she could, "Hey assholes! Get me something to wear. NOW!" Startled, they looked at Vegeta for a split second before disappearing. Bulma looked at the astonished prince and smirked. "Now shut the door. It's getting cold in here."

Not willing to lose face again, Vegeta growled and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Once she heard the beep that signaled his leaving, she let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding and sunk lower in the hot water. /Kami, what have I done?/