Disclaimer: Dragonball Z and all related characters do not belong to me.
This is a work of fan fiction - no profit, so no sue please!
Chapter 1: Accidents Happen
Bulma Briefs, young, brilliant, and (in her own words) gorgeous inventor, smiled in satisfaction at her most recent creation. In appearance it was a hollow glass tube over 2 meters high and nearly that in diameter. There was a hinged door in the side, and it sat on a heavy metal base that another three quarters of a meter to the overall height of the thing. Keypads adorned the base, as well a prominent one beside the door. The inside was bare except for a breathing mask.
It was a regeneration tank modeled after Goku and Vegeta's descriptions of the ones used by Frieza's army. Over six months of work had gone into it. The actual tank had been the easy part; the difficulty lay in the regenerative fluid needed to speed healing. As of yet Bulma had been unable to create one that was as universal as the ones that Vegeta was familiar with. What she had created were two different fluids, one for those of saiyan blood and one for pure humans. The former was completed, the latter still needed work. While the one for humans in general would be more useful (Bulma anticipated an excellent response from hospitals) the one for saiyans would at least be useful for Goku, Vegeta, and the half bred young Gohan.
It would especially be useful for Capsule Corp's abrasive saiyan houseguest, renowned for training himself into insensibility.
She closed the door of the tube and pressed a red button on the key panel. Hssst. The edges of the door sealed watertight. Another button push and the tank began to hum. Several soft bluish-green lights came on in the interior, and with a whoosh the clear regenerative fluid began to fill the tank. In exactly 5.001 seconds (by Bulma's stopwatch) it had filled entirely. Well, maybe not entirely. She grabbed a ruler and a ladder and climbed up to the top of the tank. Leaning precariously over the side, she measure the distance from the surface of the liquid to the top of the tank. 2.5 centimeters. Perfect, she could top the tank with -
Overbalanced by Bulma's leaning, the ladder rocked sharply. With a startled cry she was pitched forward into the tank, striking her head on the side. Senselessly she tumbled in and rapidly sank to the bottom. If she'd been conscious she would have noted the need to make the fluid slightly more buoyant to support the weight of the occupant...
A few bubbles escaped her lips and her lungs began to fill. Ironically, without the breathing mask, the liquid she had designed to heal was drowning her.
It was after hours in Capsule Corp. All employees had left, and Bulma's parents were away on business. The buildings were almost empty.
Key word: almost.
Vegeta, the Saiyan Prince, strode through the empty halls, his boots making no sound despite the metal floors. Looking neither right nor left he went directly to Bulma's laboratory and threw open the door.
"Woman, the gravity room has become insufficient to..." he trailed off at the sight before him. His onyx eyes took in the ladder, tumbled on its side, and he immediately guessed what had occurred. Less than three seconds after entering the room he raised one hand palm outwards and blasted the tank. The fluid cascaded over the room as the glass shattered. Ignoring the mess he crossed the room and picked Bulma up. Another energy blast cleared off one of her cluttered worktables, and he lay her down upon it.
Years before Radditz had nearly drowned on a planet he, Nappa, and Vegeta had been purging under Frieza's orders. Nappa had revived him, and now the Saiyan Prince recalled what the larger man had done. Turning Bulma onto her stomach, he firmly pressed down and forward on her back. A huge amount of water fluid gushed out of her mouth. He repeated the process several times, each time resulting in less and less water, until finally she coughed, gasped, and began to breathe again.
Vegeta was tempted to leave then. However, if he did and she died from his neglect Kakkarot would surely kill him. Death didn't frighten the Saiyan Prince (having already gone through it once) but death at the hands of a third class clown before achieving his goal of super saiyan was intolerable! Cursing under his breath he picked the semiconscious woman up off the worktable. She turned her large blue eyes on him, a foreign expression in them.
"Need...get warm," she whispered, "Danger if...damp gets in...lungs."
Half drowned and she still had the sense to know the appropriate treatment for her condition? Vegeta shook his head. Much as she annoyed him, she also never ceased to amaze him. He left the lab and brought her to her room. She tried to stand on her own, but was still too shaky.
"Dammit," the warrior picked her up again and brought her into the bathroom attached to her suite. "Don't take this the wrong way, woman. I have no interest in your ugly human body." Ignoring her outraged look he proceeded to strip her of her soaked clothing. Her face and quite a bit below that turned scarlet, but Vegeta was brisk and objective about it as a doctor. He located a towel and wrapped it around her, drying her off with clinical detachment. He then stalked back into her room and located a warm pair of sweatpants and a long shirt in her bureau.
"I can dress myself," Bulma said indignantly when he returned. She tried to stand again and nearly fell. Vegeta caught her quickly and gave a snort of derision.
"I don't think so, woman." Brusquely he helped her into her clothing and once again picked her up. He placed her into her bed and tossed the blankets over her.
Finally, finally he could leave! He turned to go but froze when he felt a small hand touch his arm.
"What?" he demanded, not looking at her.
"Thank you...Prince Vegeta." The saiyan turned his head sharply to look at her. She never addressed him by his proper title! But she had already closed her eyes and snuggled down under the blankets.
"Idiot woman," he mumbled, and left the room. The memory of her nude body, of the scent of her hair when he'd held her close, chose that moment to intrude upon his thoughts. Cursing his body and its one-track mentality, he turned into his own room. Now he'd need a cold shower....
Chapter 1: Accidents Happen
Bulma Briefs, young, brilliant, and (in her own words) gorgeous inventor, smiled in satisfaction at her most recent creation. In appearance it was a hollow glass tube over 2 meters high and nearly that in diameter. There was a hinged door in the side, and it sat on a heavy metal base that another three quarters of a meter to the overall height of the thing. Keypads adorned the base, as well a prominent one beside the door. The inside was bare except for a breathing mask.
It was a regeneration tank modeled after Goku and Vegeta's descriptions of the ones used by Frieza's army. Over six months of work had gone into it. The actual tank had been the easy part; the difficulty lay in the regenerative fluid needed to speed healing. As of yet Bulma had been unable to create one that was as universal as the ones that Vegeta was familiar with. What she had created were two different fluids, one for those of saiyan blood and one for pure humans. The former was completed, the latter still needed work. While the one for humans in general would be more useful (Bulma anticipated an excellent response from hospitals) the one for saiyans would at least be useful for Goku, Vegeta, and the half bred young Gohan.
It would especially be useful for Capsule Corp's abrasive saiyan houseguest, renowned for training himself into insensibility.
She closed the door of the tube and pressed a red button on the key panel. Hssst. The edges of the door sealed watertight. Another button push and the tank began to hum. Several soft bluish-green lights came on in the interior, and with a whoosh the clear regenerative fluid began to fill the tank. In exactly 5.001 seconds (by Bulma's stopwatch) it had filled entirely. Well, maybe not entirely. She grabbed a ruler and a ladder and climbed up to the top of the tank. Leaning precariously over the side, she measure the distance from the surface of the liquid to the top of the tank. 2.5 centimeters. Perfect, she could top the tank with -
Overbalanced by Bulma's leaning, the ladder rocked sharply. With a startled cry she was pitched forward into the tank, striking her head on the side. Senselessly she tumbled in and rapidly sank to the bottom. If she'd been conscious she would have noted the need to make the fluid slightly more buoyant to support the weight of the occupant...
A few bubbles escaped her lips and her lungs began to fill. Ironically, without the breathing mask, the liquid she had designed to heal was drowning her.
It was after hours in Capsule Corp. All employees had left, and Bulma's parents were away on business. The buildings were almost empty.
Key word: almost.
Vegeta, the Saiyan Prince, strode through the empty halls, his boots making no sound despite the metal floors. Looking neither right nor left he went directly to Bulma's laboratory and threw open the door.
"Woman, the gravity room has become insufficient to..." he trailed off at the sight before him. His onyx eyes took in the ladder, tumbled on its side, and he immediately guessed what had occurred. Less than three seconds after entering the room he raised one hand palm outwards and blasted the tank. The fluid cascaded over the room as the glass shattered. Ignoring the mess he crossed the room and picked Bulma up. Another energy blast cleared off one of her cluttered worktables, and he lay her down upon it.
Years before Radditz had nearly drowned on a planet he, Nappa, and Vegeta had been purging under Frieza's orders. Nappa had revived him, and now the Saiyan Prince recalled what the larger man had done. Turning Bulma onto her stomach, he firmly pressed down and forward on her back. A huge amount of water fluid gushed out of her mouth. He repeated the process several times, each time resulting in less and less water, until finally she coughed, gasped, and began to breathe again.
Vegeta was tempted to leave then. However, if he did and she died from his neglect Kakkarot would surely kill him. Death didn't frighten the Saiyan Prince (having already gone through it once) but death at the hands of a third class clown before achieving his goal of super saiyan was intolerable! Cursing under his breath he picked the semiconscious woman up off the worktable. She turned her large blue eyes on him, a foreign expression in them.
"Need...get warm," she whispered, "Danger if...damp gets in...lungs."
Half drowned and she still had the sense to know the appropriate treatment for her condition? Vegeta shook his head. Much as she annoyed him, she also never ceased to amaze him. He left the lab and brought her to her room. She tried to stand on her own, but was still too shaky.
"Dammit," the warrior picked her up again and brought her into the bathroom attached to her suite. "Don't take this the wrong way, woman. I have no interest in your ugly human body." Ignoring her outraged look he proceeded to strip her of her soaked clothing. Her face and quite a bit below that turned scarlet, but Vegeta was brisk and objective about it as a doctor. He located a towel and wrapped it around her, drying her off with clinical detachment. He then stalked back into her room and located a warm pair of sweatpants and a long shirt in her bureau.
"I can dress myself," Bulma said indignantly when he returned. She tried to stand again and nearly fell. Vegeta caught her quickly and gave a snort of derision.
"I don't think so, woman." Brusquely he helped her into her clothing and once again picked her up. He placed her into her bed and tossed the blankets over her.
Finally, finally he could leave! He turned to go but froze when he felt a small hand touch his arm.
"What?" he demanded, not looking at her.
"Thank you...Prince Vegeta." The saiyan turned his head sharply to look at her. She never addressed him by his proper title! But she had already closed her eyes and snuggled down under the blankets.
"Idiot woman," he mumbled, and left the room. The memory of her nude body, of the scent of her hair when he'd held her close, chose that moment to intrude upon his thoughts. Cursing his body and its one-track mentality, he turned into his own room. Now he'd need a cold shower....