Between Battles
Rated: R for adult themes, sexual situations and adult language.
Category: Romance, Drama, Lemon
Type: One-shot
Classification: What-If story. Universal rules for Dragonball
Z apply.
Main Characters: Vegeta and Bulma.
INTRODUCTION:
Ever wondered why Bulma says that she and Vegeta aren't
together when the Z Warriors gather on May 12th to fight the androids? This
story contains original scenes fron the Japanese version of DBZ. This was supposed
to be a sort of follow up to Tram Vu's Vegeta/Bulma fic, "Don't Be A Hero",
but it has mutated since then. Some of Tram's ideas have been incorporated into
this story.
AND WHOLE PHRASES IN JAPANESE.
"What? You want 300 Gs!?!" Dr. Briefs
almost swallowed his cigarette.
"Yes." Vegeta was oddly patient. "Kakarott
trained under 100 Gs, I want to triple that."
"That's impossible! If you weighed 60 kilograms,
under the force of 300 Gs you would weigh, 18 tons!"
"I don't care! Build it!" he lost
his temper finally and barked at the old human before him.
Footnote 1
***
Yamcha leaned back in his seat and wrapped his
arm over Bulma's shoulder. The movie began; some cushy, girlie thing he thought
she'd like. She didn't lean into his shoulder like she usually did. He didn't
try to make out with her like he usually did. He stared at the screen, paying
more attention to his own thoughts than the so-called plot. He could feel an
old, familiar restlessness coming back. His throat tightened a little. He needed
air.
Outside, Yamcha panted and paced. His heart palpitated. It had just rained and
cigarette smoke wafted on the humid breeze. Although he didn't smoke, Yamcha
had the sudden desire to suck down a pack or two. He turned and found the source:
a beautiful, young, LONE woman.
A half an hour later Bulma emerged from
the theater and saw him before he saw her. She turned crimson. She clamped her
jaw shut and stormed past him.
"Bulma! Oh my gosh, I'm sorry, is it over
already!?" Yamcha panicked. The other young woman turned her nose up at
him and walked away. He couldn't decide which woman to try to make stay. Bulma
was already in the car.
"Find your own damn ride home if you're so
popular!"
"I.. I..!" he stammered, then hung his
head as she peeled out of the parking lot. "I can't help it.."
***
Three months after the young, purple-haired Saiyan
had arrived in his time machine and destroyed Freeza and King Cold, Yamcha began
to feel uncomfortable living in the Capsule complex. Even with Bulma's growing
coldness and the unsettling presence of the Saiyan Prince who had tried to kill
him a few years ago, he still hung around.
He fought with Bulma constantly now. In the good-old
days they had had their fights, sure, but this was becoming war. He just couldn't
seem to get back early enough for her from his nights on the town or to keep
his eyes from straying when they WERE together.
She had locked him out of her room enough times
that he had started to believe that it really wasn't going to work out. Soon,
they hardly saw each other, much less had time to argue.
He sought her out before taking off for the evening
one Saturday night. She was sitting in the living room watching TV. He came
in and stood in the door-frame with his hands in his pockets.
"Can we.. talk?" he tried to sound as
benign as possible.
"Huh?" Bulma looked up from her show.
"Can it wait till this is over?" She pointed at the set.
"Uh.. sure." A bit defeated, he sat
down and watched with her. "What are we watching?"
"Star Trek," she mumbled. "It was
supposed to be this weird, sci-fi show, but it's easy to identify with it!"
"Heh, yeah," Yamcha laughed half-heartedly.
The show went into commercial and Bulma noticed how dejected he looked.
"Yeah, I guess we need to talk, huh?"
He nodded.
"I'm sorry. I guess, this just isn't going
to work out after all."
"Yeah," he sighed. Niether made eye-contact.
"I've felt that way for a while now."
"I know."
"Bulma." He put on his most pathetic
puppy dog eyes. "Is it ok if I stay here for a while, though? I don't really
have anywhere to go.."
She shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so. I'll explode
a guest house for you tomorrow."
"Thanks."
The commercials ended and she turned her attention
back to the program. "Pointy ears.." she scoffed, "they should
get a load of Nameks!"
Yamcha was a bit dazed by her reaction. 'After
all the hysterics and throwing things, she's miss cool and collected? What happened?'
He got up and went to his room. As he passed by the kitchen door, he spied Vegeta
loading up a tray full of snacks. He eyed him for a moment, until the Saiyan
gave him an icy look. Yamcha shook his head and continued upstairs.
'Nah..'
***
Her room was cool and dark in the twilight. She
put a file-folder full of work on her vanity and removed her sweatshirt, letting
it carelessly fall to the floor. A cleaning bot turned instantly on and wobbled
out of its hiding place.
"Gah! Stupid peice of junk!" she screamed,
picked up a heavy technical manual and threw it at the unsuspecting droid. It
moaned slightly before it ground to a halt. Bulma fell onto her bed and curled
up into a ball.
"I just want to be alone!" She stared
out the large, floor-length windows that lead to her balcony at the coming darkness.
The Western Capitol twinkled with life, but the lights in her room would remain
off for the rest of the night.
***
Yamcha's guest house was just a few feet from
the main house. He came and went freely through the kitchen, but rarely went
further than that. One day, he heard the TV on in the living room and decided
to see if Bulma was in. She wasn't around, but a strongest man competition was
on the TV. Yamcha sat down.
He hadn't relaxed in the vacant room but five
minutes when the Prince appeared in the door-way. The men locked eyes. Yamcha
froze, mid-surf. Vegeta held a whopping plate of cookies in one hand and a gallon
of milk in the other. He glared at Yamcha and cleared his throat.
"You're in my chair," he hissed.
"There's plenty of others, Vegeta."
Yamcha attempted bravery but his voice came out in a near whisper.
"Yes.." Vegeta remained calm, "but
you're in MY chair." His face told Yamcha that if he valued his masculinity
he'd get up. Now. Yamcha did so slowly, not taking his eyes off the Prince,
like prey trying to escape a predator. He did not take another seat. Nor did
Vegeta move. Yamcha was forced to squeeze by him through the door way, which
he did carefully, so as not to touch him. Once he was gone, the Prince smiled
evilly and took his chair back.
***
One day, Bulma finished work on her latest project
early and decided to go out to the garden to get some sun. She wore a tank-top
and shorts and took the latest copy of Omni Magazine out with her. She faced
the early afternoon sunlight. Even this perfect day couldn't cheer her.
It had been a long time since she had felt this
way. Most of the time she felt angry or frustrated when she was with Yamcha,
but without him, perhaps she felt nothing. As she was mulling over her emotions
her eyes spied the distant form of a Saiyan warrior. She had become accustomed
to his presence, but paid special attention to him today as he walked slowly
from the house to the lawn by the new 300-times-gravity room. Bulma's thoughts
trailed off as she stared at her unusual house guest through mirrored sunglasses.
'He moves like an animal,' she thought, 'like
a horse or a tiger..' She shook her head but continued to watch him. He was
going through a series of katas, perhaps also enjoying the warmth of the sun.
Even from a few hundred yards, she could make out every single muscle on his
bare arms. He wasn't wearing his usual gloves. His hands glided deftly as he
contorted his body around each maneuver.
'Oh my God..' Bulma gasped lightly. She laughed
out loud a bit at the absurdity of the idea of the two of them as a couple.
He stopped what he was doing and looked over his shoulder at her. She pulled
the magazine up over her eyes and held her breath. When she lowered it he was
gone, the gravity room door just slamming shut in his wake. She bit the top
of the Omni, stared at the door and laughed out loud.
***
In an unusual gesture of kindness, Bulma brought
Vegeta dinner one night: a large quantity of food prepared by the Briefs' personal
chef. He neither spoke nor turned around to glare at her as she set the meal
down. He toweled off from what must have been a very vigorous workout. Beads
of sweat rolled off the back of his neck. He panted lightly. "Thought you
could use to eat something," she said as she put it down. She waited for
a comment, but got none. "Do you ever take a break?"
"No."
"Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"You could leave me alone." He didn't
face her, but his brows came together.
"Well, EXCUUUSE me for trying to be nice!"
"Why bother, I'm a bad guy, remember?"
he glanced at her, his lip raised.
She stood her ground and studied his face. She
had learned somewhere that men of few words were best read through the eyes.
His mouth frowned as usual, his arms tightly crossed, but his eyes glistened
with a remoteness that his coarse words could not mask.
"Right," she turned to leave. "Just
let me know if you need anything.."
"..."
Bulma walked out and closed the door behind her.
She paused and looked back at the spherical chamber. "For someone with
so much pride, it must be so hard to be so completely alone." She hugged
herself and went back into the house.
The Prince hung his head as the door clicked shut, relieved. He breathed a sigh and stared at the food she had brought him before eating it all.
***
Vegeta forced himself up off the floor. The gravity
room hummed and pulsed under the pressure. He positioned himself between the
reflectors and shot a ki-beam out. The ball of energy ricocheted between the
orbs, forcing the Prince to dodge his own attack. It was excellent training.
Vegeta had ordered round after round of equipment from Dr. Briefs, who was only
too happy to be challenged. This set seemed to be doing the trick quite nicely.
He pushed himself to the point of exhaustion as the beam hurtled around. Soon,
he was too winded to block and it bounced off a reflector and headed straight
for his face.
*
Mrs. Briefs brought a tray full of snacks into
the living room.
"Bulma-chan, I found a new cake shop! It's
too bad Goku-chan and Vegeta-chan are so busy with their training, they don't
come by anymore. You should invite them over!" Her voice practially twinkled.
"Are you kidding? Vegeta's a psycho! All
he ever thinks about is fighting. I can't imagine him having tea with us, Mom."
She picked up a puff-pastry and examined it.
"That Vegeta-chan is so cute!" her ditzy
mother exclaimed.
"But Mother," her husband teased, "I
thought you liked Goku the best?"
"Well, yes, but I like the feeling of living
under the shadow of Vegeta. That and his wide forehead!"
Bulma shook her head and went to take a bite of
her pastry. A sudden shockwave sent the confection up her nose. Bulma wiped
the creme from her face and ran out to see what the matter was.
The gravity room lay in ruin. Yamcha came running
from his house behind her. They cautiously approached the scene.
"Vegeta!?" Bulma inched forward and
called out. She was scared half out of her wits as a hand burst out of the rubble.
She fell back, taking Yamcha out with her. Vegeta hauled himself out from under
the rubble and stood up. "Vegeta, are you still alive?"
"Obviously," he muttered.
She sighed, relieved and then began her tirade.
"You could have blown up my house, you moron!"
The Prince sneered, but before he could spit an
insult at her, he collapsed.
"VEGETA!" Bulma ran into the mess and
pulled him into her lap.
"Don't be stupid, you're getting in the way
of my training," he managed to mutter.
"You idiot! You call this training! You're
gonna kill yourself training this hard!"
"This is nothing! I'm the strongest Saiyan
in the universe!" he glared at her through the eye that wasn't swelled
shut. "Soon I'll surpass Kakarott.."
"Carrot, Vegetable, whatever. I don't care,
you just do what I say," she said gently. It was an command, but she smiled
as she said it.
"Are you trying to order me around..?"
He wormed out of her grip and stood up, only to pass out and bail back down
on the wreckage.
"VEGETA!"
*
Bulma stayed at the warrior's bed-side all night.
She was amazed that he had pushed himself so far. Machines assisted his breathing.
His wounds were extensive, but the doctors had said he was healing rapidly for
a human. She had suppressed her laughter then, but was in no such jovial mood
now as she drifted off to sleep.
She woke in the morning to a nurse pushing her
shoulder. The bed was empty.
*
"What do you think you're doing!? Your injuries
won't heal properly!!" Bulma barked from the vid-window. Vegeta, still
wrapped in bandages spun in the air, forcing his body to strain against the
Gs and tried to ignore her.
"What a noisy, low-class wench!" he
grumbled to himself. This distracted him and he faltered. He hit the floor of
the chamber like a ton of bricks.
"See what I mean!?" she nagged. He didn't
answer. "Ha! See, I'm always right!"
His eventual reply surprised her. "Do you
want to die in three years?"
"No, I'm too young and beautiful to die!"
"THEN SHUT UP!!"
Footnote 2
***
Bulma soaked in the tub, a set of false cucumber
slices on her eyelids. The day had seemed too long. Hours of soldering and peering
at circuits and patches, something she was very used to doing had left her body
a mess today. Her eyes felt so much better closed. She twisted her hands and
cracked every bone.
"Muuuuch better." She let her mind float
away. "Caaaaaalllgonnnnn!" Her favorite things danced in her head:
small, expensive gormet candies, accepting science prizes, pearls. She sighed
fairly contentedly. The hot water and bubbles lulled her into relaxation. Bulma
was so at ease that when the image of a muscular man came into her head, she
allowed it to remain. He slowly came towards her. He touched her skin. A smile
started to curl her lips.
"Mmm."
Yamcha paced back and forth in his small house. He had just returned from a short training mission. Pu'ar was asleep. He was bored. He was lonely. When he got this way, there was only one thing he could think of that could make him feel better.
He found her in the bathtub. He sneaked in silently. She seemed oblivious. She sunk down a little deeper under the bubbles and hummed lightly. Yamcha tip-toed towards her wearing a silly grin.
Vegeta emerged from the gravity room startled
to hear a woman's screams. He ran to the house as fast as he could.
"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!!!"
Yamcha hollered as he ran out the back door. He was looking over his shoulder
when Vegeta reached out and grabbed him by the neck. Yamcha swung around in
the air, surprised to see both his feet off the ground before realizing what
had happened. He choked as he tried to scream. Any of the defenses he had learned
over his years of training were rendered useless against the enraged Saiyan.
"What have you done?!?!" the Prince
shook him vigorously. Yamcha coughed but could not explain himself.
"What are you doing?! Vegeta, put him down!!"
Bulma appeared at the door wearing a towel and holding a frying pan.
"I thought.." he began, but saw that
she was all right. He became cross. 'If this is some kind of kinky sex game,
I'll kill them both.'
"PUT HIM DOWN," she demanded again.
He did so, reluctantly. "He just made a mistake, didn't you Yamcha?!"
He gasped for air. "Yeah, mistake, sorry."
Bulma noticed Vegeta was staring at her and blushed.
She wrapped the towel tighter around herself and felt the tingle she had felt
earlier in the week when she saw him covered in sweat. Yamcha attempted to apologize
and drew Bulma's attention back to the situation at hand.
"Show's over, boys. GOOD NIGHT." She
slammed the door. Vegeta scowled at Yamcha and he slunk away.
"Women and fools," he snorted.
***
Ever since the gravity room exploded, Bulma found
that Vegeta was on her mind every hour of the day. At first, this simply annoyed
her and she wrote it off to anger.
She took some time off work and spent many hours
thinking. She wanted to know what he did, when he slept, what he liked to eat.
He wasn't just some monsterous bad guy. He was a Prince without a people. He
was alone. Besides Goku, he was the last of his race. He never showed it, but
he was miserably lonely. His eyes gave him away, and she was probably the only
person on the planet who had the courage to stare him down to see it. Be he
was also a proud man, and she knew he would not accept her pity.
She filled her days like this, contemplating her
strange house-guest. It patched a hole that badly needed fixing in her heart.
When she thought about Vegeta, she didn't think about herself, unless she thought
about them both.
The idea was beginning to grow on her.
Bulma's pride rested in the fact that she was
a very intelligent woman. It didn't take her long to formulate a plan to alleviate
Vegeta's loneliness and hopefully her own at the same time.
He had so far rebuffed all her attempts at conversation, so she decided that
she was speaking the wrong language. She began a regimine of traditional flirting
with the warrior for a week. She wore suggestive clothing when she brought him
dinner, asked him to do her favors and thanked him coyly when he agreed. She
dropped what she thought to be blatantly obvious hints, seemingly to no avail.
One morning at breakfast she even bent at the
waist in her short bathrobe to pick something up when she KNEW he was watching.
When she straightened and saw that he was gone she was irate.
"What are you, dead?!" Bulma stomped
over to the gravity chamber, hormones raging. Using the exterior keypad, she
shut it off and opened the door.
Vegeta was standing at the central control column,
trying to turn it back on. He heard her come in and swung to confront her. He
was not amused.
"What do you want that is so important that
you feel it nessesary to interrupt me?!"
Bulma closed the door behind her. She shook inside, but smirked seductively
and slinked over to him. She stopped just inches from him and stared into his
dark eyes. Vegeta noted her odd behavior and his pulse adjusted accordingly.
She got right up in his face. She lowered her eyelids and her voice.
"You."
"...!?!" He was shocked. For months
this man who thought he was strong had suppressed every fleeting desire for
her, which were many and frequent. He had pushed all thoughts of ever even touching
her aside. There were many arguments for staying away from her: she was good,
he was evil; she was loud and bossy; she was human for Kami's sake! He suddenly
couldn't think now why he had...
"Hello? Earth to Vegeta.." She leaned
in and whispered in his ear. "I.. want.. you."
"Woman, you don't know what you're asking,"
he managed to eek out at a near whisper.
"Did I ASK?" Bulma replied and dropped
her robe. She stood in front of him in her white panties and waited for a response.
'Why isn't he DOING ANYTHING!?!'
Vegeta's jaw mimicked the robe. His hands clenched
into fists. He sucked in his breath and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.
'There's got to be a catch!' He gazed at her breasts. 'Oh, hell.' He swallowed
hard. "If you say so.."
His fists unclenched. He reached out gingerly
and touched her skin for the first time. His callused fingers grazed her shoulders
and traced the curve of her body down to her waist. In the strange light of
the chamber he saw the difference between his own tanned skin and her alabaster
complexion. She was like a doll. 'Not a muscle on her..' he thought. She was
weak; a frail thing that needed his protection. He drew her to him and felt
the same shiver he felt every time he let his eyes linger on her, only multiplied
infinitely. It thrilled him and terrified him at the same time. The reasons
he had kept his distance floated out of his consciousness as he felt her press
up against his bare chest.
Bulma closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around
him slowly. He was hard where she was soft. He was dirty where she was clean.
She had never thought that she could be with a man a full three inches shorter
than she, but she tossed this prejudice as he reached down, grabbed her thighs,
lifted her up, kissed the meeting of her neck and shoulder blades and slowy
began working his way down. She gasped and stared at his thick, wild black hair.
She pushed her face into it and felt its coarseness.
Vegeta had woken up every so often with her image
still hanging on, but had shaken it off, again and again. He wouldn't anymore.
He walked with her still on his hips to the gravity machine and set her down
on its titled surface. With one hand he tore off her underwear. She cried out,
but not in anger or fear. He gave her a look that made her quiver all over.
He let his Saiyan nature overcome him.
*
"Ohmygod," she panted when they had
finished. "Oh.. mygod."
He pulled his pants back on and ran a hand through his hair. "You asked
for it," he smirked.
"Ha ha." Bulma tried to stand but needed
his help to get to her feet. He offered her his hand. Bulma took it and he lifted
her effortlessly. She blushed, put her robe back on and went to the door.
"Again later?" he murmured as he went
back to his workout.
"Oh yeah."
*
Yamcha noticed that Bulma was unusually cheerful
when he came into the kitchen looking for lunch. She hummed to herself and didn't
seem to notice he was even there.
"Yappari anata wa utsugiri na otoko no hito
na no ne?" she sang as she danced around the table on tiptoe. She took
a glass from a cabinet and filled it with iced tea. Yamcha sat at the table
and munched on some sesame snacks.
"What are YOU so happy about?"
She ignored him.
Dr. Briefs scuttled silently into the room and
made for the coffee pot. Yamcha eyed the old man. He smirked at a perfect opportunity
to embarrass Bulma.
"D'ja get laid or something?"
"As a matter of fact..." she sang and
tried to rub it in. "Daddy! Hey! Hi there!" She juggled the glass,
managing to spill only half of it.
The scientist looked at them both and shrugged
to the small black cat on his shoulder.
Yamcha smirked as the old man departed. The next thing he knew he was sprawling
on the floor. Bulma hovered over him, her first still clenched. With her eyes
closed she berated him. "Next time you feel
like being CUTE, don't let your guard down!" She stepped over him.
"Well then, I take it you did?.." he
mumbled from the floor.
Bulma proceeded to do a fairly decent job of beating
the tar out of him. She was interrupted by laughter.
Vegeta stood next to the fridge, arms folded,
laughing his ass off. She let Yamcha go. He jumped to his feet and left the
kitchen awkwardly.
"How much of that did you hear?" she
blushed.
"Hear?" he chuckled. "I don't care
what he thinks!"
She pouted momentarily, but soon began smiling
secretively. She jerked her eyebrows twice. He raised his left one inquisitively.
She rolled her head to the side. He raised the other brow. She huffed, annoyed
and started up the stairs. He watched her go, not wanting to presume. She stopped
and looked back at him. She rolled her head again, this time more emphatically.
He smirked and using his ki, flew up the stairs, grabbing her on the way. Bulma
let out a surprised but playful shriek as he whisked her to her bedroom.
Mrs. Briefs walked around the corner just as they
vanished. She was startled by the sound. "Honey?"
she inquired.
Nothing.
She shrugged and hummed to herself as she filled
up a watering can at the bar-sink.
Later, Bulma flopped down in front of the television.
Outside, her mother danced by the long, rectangular window with a watering can.
Bulma surfed the 500 some-odd channels, settling finally on a documentary about
tigers. Although the beasts were chasing and devouring prey, Bulma wore a large,
cheesy grin.
Yamcha plopped down next to her. She didn't seem
to notice. He looked from the TV to her and back again a few times.
"You DID get laid, didn't you!!"
Dr. Briefs popped in the doorway with a snack
on the word "laid" and popped right back out again without a change
in expression. Scratch, the cat, looked confused.
Bulma nodded.
"Just NOW?!"
Nod.
"With, HIM!!?!?"
Nod.
Yamcha fell over the back side of the couch. She
ignored him and continued to watch the tigers. The scene changed to one of an
antelope giving birth.
"Ugh!" she cried and quickly changed
the channel.
"..With more, here's our own Maki Nomiya.."
"Thanks Bob, the Auto Show is coming to Satan
City! And not only are we able to see the latest in automotive technology.."
Bulma smiled to see the reporter motion to the
latest Capsule model.
"..the classics are here too! Some of them
are now considered ANTIQUES! Come on down and see the fabulous cars that some
men would say are better than SEX.."
"Hahahah!" she laughed so hard she nearly
choked. She munched on some microwave popcorn and wondered what Vegeta thought
about cars.
***
A man in a dark blue suit was announcing the next
speaker; the latest Capsule car in his hand.
"Ladies and gentlemen, to tell us more about
what to expect from Capsule in the coming year, it's my pleasure to present,
second only to her father at the Capsule Corporation, Director of Production,
Ms. Bulma Briefs!"
There was a considerable amount of applause. Vegeta
watched her speak. She wore a rather short skirt with her suit that he thought
must have gotten a lot of the mostly male audience's praise. This made him uneasy
and angry. For some reason he didn't want anyone looking at her like some of
them were doing. He shook his head a little as if to clear the thought. The
crowd hung on her every word. Although the Prince was proficient in her language,
he hardly understood a word she said.
"Blah blah new blah, Bu-blah blah 964 blaaa,
blahblahblah."
He got bored and decided to wander. 'Make me come
out here, for what? To bore me to death?' He stood with his arms crossed in
front of the Number 964 Capsule car she was speaking about and turned his nose
up at it. It was sleek, rounded, efficient, versatile: all the things that were
popular this year. Even in the most popular shade of grey.
"Uck."
"What, you don't like it?" Bulma came
up behind him.
"No."
She humphed and crossed her arms, but dropped
them when she saw that he was doing the same thing. "Come here." Bulma
turned and walked towards the antiques.
"Why?"
"Just come here! You'll like these."
The classics glittered like gems. Vegeta's expression
softened somewhat from abhorrence to tolerance as he stepped into the presence
of such beauty. He strolled with her through the aisles hardly hearing (much
less understanding) a word she said about their specs.
They passed Lamborghini, Chevrolet, Ferrari, Audi,
Mercedes, Daimler/Benz, Ford; Italian, English, American cars; classically beautiful
sedans, coups, roadsters, convertibles, even trucks; all grace with gleaming
paint and chrome. The Prince stopped in front of a particular car. Bulma
saw that she had lost her audience.
He was entranced. She knew that look. She leaned
towards him, smirked and whispered. "It would be REALLY inappropriate to
have sex with a car."
He stepped onto the island. Bulma waved the approaching
security guard away. 'What a mistake that would be!' she thought as she pictured
the over-weight human trying to tell the Saiyan killing machine to 'step away
from the vehicle'. Vegeta ran his hand over the rounded passenger side head-light.
Bulma shuddered.
"What's it called?" he asked over his
shoulder, not taking his eyes off its dark blue paint which tricked him into
thinking it was black. Its top was down. The cream-colored seats exposed, in
perfect condition for their age. The wooden steering wheel and instrument panel
gleaming, unmarred by a single finger-print.
"The 1959 Aston Martin DB 2/4 mark II.. Spider."
"Spider.." he repeated.
"Also know as.. 'Yours'."
"...?!" he spun and stared at her. She
ripped a check from her check-book and handed it to an elated British man who
ran off hooting his joy to the rest of the convention.
They tore through the streets of Satan City.
Bulma cheered wildly as the convertible charged home. The vanity license plate
simply read: "SAIYAN".
*
Evening came and the gravity chamber stood empty.
Bulma's work-space was cluttered with the things she hadn't gotten to. The Aston
Martin clinked as its engine cooled in the garage.
Bulma lay sprawled across her bed, exhausted and panting. Vegeta stroked her
hair and kissed her all over; everywhere but her mouth. Bulma noticed this,
but lacking the energy, did not attempt to rectify the situation. He lay against
her bare, sweat-covered skin, tracing his fingers around her curves. "So
like the car," he whispered.
His thoughts wandered and he realized that he
had hardly trained all day. He glanced at the clock. 1:10 AM. He breathed in
her scent one more time and got up. She managed to roll over and grab his arm
as he was getting dressed.
"No," she protested, "stay."
"What?" he moaned.
"Stay with me, all night."
He turned his back to her, shrugged her off and
pouted. She was demanding a lot of him recently and he had been giving in too
frequently.
His father had, in a rare moment, warned him about
women. They were treacherous. They could lull a man into obedience, weakening
him until she had complete power over him. One had to be strong when it came
to women. They were good for few things, but those few things were enough to
make the ongoing battle against them worth fighting.
Men had to treat women as the enemy at all times
or else they would become slaves to their whims. Vegeta was no woman's slave,
especially not a HUMAN woman!
"I'm not your plaything," he spat.
"What?" Bulma sobered.
"You heard me. Just because you buy me a
car and spread your legs for me, doesn't mean you own me. You can't tell me
what to do."
Bulma stared at his back. Her jaw dropped. Time
stopped, painfully. Seconds dragged to hours. Her heart sank. She pulled the
loosely strewn sheet over her nudity and hugged herself.
"Get out," she whispered, hardly able
to speak.
He lingered for a moment as he pulled on his shirt.
"GET OUT!!!" Bulma screamed. Without
further insult, the Prince walked out and closed the door behind him.
Her mind reeled. 'What just happened? Am I having
a nightmare? I thought.. I thought..' She slammed her fists down on the mattress.
"Son of a BITCH!!!"
Bulma ran, wearing only an oversized tee shirt,
through the garage door. She was hyper-ventilating; her face a mask of pure
rage. She flicked on the lights as she jumped over the threshold and went to
the wall of tools. She grabbed a sizable sledge-hammer, whirled and hefted it
over her head. She glared at the Aston Martin with an hateful gleam in her eye.
"FUCK YOU VEGETA!!!" she screamed, but
hesitated. She could not force herself to bring the mallet down on the glistening
auto. "Ohhh," she groaned, "I can't destroy you.." The mallet
thudded to the ground behind her. Still seething mad, Bulma looked around till
a light went on in her head. She eyed the wall of tools evilly and turned to
face the car.
*
"Gee, Vegeta, I'd love to, but it's the middle
of the night!" Goku stood, silhouetted by his front door, in his pajamas.
He yawned and scratched his head. Chi-Chi trembled behind him.
"NOW Kakarott, or I'll blow your house and
your pitiful excuse for a mate to SMITHEREENS!!!" The Prince powered up.
"What's going on?!" Gohan ran to his
father and glowered at Vegeta.
"It's ok, Gohan. I'll handle this."
Goku got serious. He dipped back into the house for an instant and re-appeared
wearing his gi. "Let's go."
The men blasted off for the interior. Gohan held
his mother as she shook. "What was THAT all about? It's so late. Why is
Vegeta so mad all of a sudden..?"
Chi-Chi had no answers.
"We don't have to do this, you know. We're
on the same side now, Vegeta. We have a common enemy."
"I can't believe what I'm hearing! Humanity
has made you into a sniveling weakling! If you don't want to fight, why did
you agree?!"
"You threatened my family." Goku glared
at him. "You called Chi-Chi names! Nobody who says stuff like that gets
away without at least a tussle. Like how I'm sure I'd get the beating of my
life from you if I called Bulma trash."
"What are you babbling about?" he pried.
"I don't care about that woman."
Goku panicked and tried to cover. "Uh, er,
that is, 's'not what I heard! Chi-Chi said you guys were.." Goku attempted
to make a hand gesture to indicate sex, but flubbed it, horribly.
"Were what?"
"You know.. doing it."
"Since when is my private life part of your
dinnertime conversation!?!"
"Since you started banging my best friend?"
he offered.
"That's it! Enough yammering!!" The
Prince flew at his 'enemy'.
*
Bulma worked into the morning. At 8 AM Dr. Briefs
heard a commotion in the B-1 garage and popped in to see what was up.
"Whatcha upto Punkin?"
"Revenge."
"Need any help?"
"No."
"Okeedoke."
*
"I'm tired Vegeta," Goku yawned. His
stomach growled. "And hungry. Can we stop now?"
Vegeta was pretty ragged out. He answered by powering
down.
"Whew," Goku sighed. 'Finally.' "That
was fun, but next time, can we do it during the day?"
No answer.
"Whelp. I gotta run. Chi-Chi's prob'ly worried
sick!" He turned to go, but looked over his shoulder at Vegeta. "I
bet Bulma is too."
"I doubt that," he was surprised to
hear himself mumble.
'Ah!..' Goku thought. 'I didn't screw up! They
are together and for whatever reason, he's in the doghouse!' he stretched and
smiled. "Not that you'd listen to ANYONE'S advice.."
The Prince dusted himself off, lingering; listening.
"Apologize." Goku teleported before
Vegeta could pummel him.
"Apologize!?! Hell no! What did I do!?"
he grumbled. Vegeta looked in the direction of Capsule Corp. Something in him
suddenly felt pinched. Whatever this disturbance was, he hated it. He hated
the unfamiliar. It was as if a psychic message was being sent to him, or he
was remembering something long forgotten, or someone was talking about him somewhere
far away; one of those strange feelings that you can't accurately describe even
though it's happening to you. He decided to get as far away from its apparent
origin as he could.
*
5 PM. Bulma nodded off. She jerked her head back
up and looked around. She was kneeling in the middle of the garage where the
Spider used to be. Around her, arranged meticulously in a circular pattern,
were all of the parts of the automobile, in order of size, color and shape rather
than importance or sequence. It was a work of art. The engine block hung safely
above her head. She held the last part in her hand. She wound the nut off the
bolt.
"Now it's JUST like me." She stared
at the tiny piece of metal and threw it, hard, at the garage door. It clanged
off the surface and rolled into a corner. Bulma sighed deeply and made to get
up to retrieve it, but found that her legs were completely asleep.
"Fuck," she hissed, as the pain waved
through her. Brushing a segment of a concentric circle of parts away with her
arm, she laid down in the fetal position. "Damn you," Bulma whispered
to the silence and wept, "damn you.."
***
Less than two years remained until the Artificial
Humans were to arrive. Vegeta woke one morning from uneasy dreams in the forest
he had called home for the last few months. His beard had grown in (as much
of a beard as a Saiyan could grow) and his clothes were tattered and filthy.
He stood, stretched and went to the river bed to wash up. At the bank, he crossed
his arms and breathed deep. He glanced down and caught a glimpse of his reflection
in an eddy. The image of his father, King Vegeta frowned back at him from the
black water. The Prince gasped and touched his own face.
*
Later that day, far from the forest, Goku and
Piccolo stood back to back on the tip of a mountain, miles high above the earth.
Wind blew Goku's hair and the Namek's unrestricted antennae. This serene picture
was interrupted by the eight year old Gohan as he appeared out of nowhere and
took on both men at once.
*
Chi-Chi sighed as she swept the last bit of dust
out the front door. She pulled her sweater from around her neck and put it on
to protect herself from the chill. She repeated a phrase she hated, but used
frequently these last few years.
"Hurry home, Gohan. Hurry home, Goku."
*
Bulma woke late again and groggily got dressed
in some jeans and a Capsule sweat shirt. She shivered as she put on her slippers.
Her mind wandered to the point where she wasn't thinking about anything. She
found herself staring at the unkempt bed. Bulma furrowed her brows. The window
side of the bed was still tucked in. She had been sleeping only on the left
side. "What the hell's wrong with me?" she asked out loud. The word
'Vegeta' echoed in her ears. "No! This can't be because of him! I hate
him! I hope I never see his sour face again!"
"Who are you trying to convince, honey?"
Mrs. Briefs asked as she popped in with a laundry basket.
Bulma blushed purple and ground her teeth. Her
mother had a knack of catching her talking to herself. "NO ONE!!"
"Oh Kaay.." She flitted back out as
silently as she had come.
Bulma went to the tall window that lead out to
her balcony. Vegeta had used this window months ago to sneak in to her room
late at night. She put her hand to the cool glass and pouted out at the Capsule
complex. "I can not miss him," she hissed, and locked the window.
***
Chi-Chi sipped her tea and listened as Bulma rambled
on about the weather and what she and her father had been guessing about the
Artificial Humans. The younger woman could tell that something else was bothering
her.
"How's Yamcha? I bet you're happy to have
him back after all this."
Bulma choked a bit on a biscuit. "Um, well,
I was. We broke up."
She explained to her friend that he was fickle and would never be able to live
up to her needs. She almost mentioned that she had begun to think that Vegeta
might have been able to, but froze. His words reverberated in her head and stung
with the same intensity as they had months ago.
"What's wrong, Bulma? Did Yamcha hurt you?"
Bulma looked into her caring friend's eyes and
broke down. "Not Yamcha," she breathed deep, "Vegeta."
Chi-Chi stared, unblinking at her for almost a
half an hour as Bulma unraveled her strange story. When it was done, Chi-Chi
held her hands as Bulma cried like a baby.
"How could he say something like that!? He
IS a monster! A horrible alien with no feelings!"
"Shhh.." Chi-Chi soothed. "Men
are aliens."
Bulma laughed a bit at this. "Our men are,
anyway, heh.."
"The trick is to understand them before they
get frustrated trying to understand US. They will NEVER understand us. That's
our advantage and our curse." She got up and made more tea as she talked.
"It sounds to me that Vegeta felt that he was losing control of his life.
He proclaimed that you didn't have possession over him. Why would he say that
unless he felt like he was becoming your possession?.."
Bulma blew her nose and shrugged.
"..To get out of the situation as quickly
as he could, he decided to give you a wake up call. It obviously worked. You
cast him out of Eden. He's free."
"Whooptido!" Bulma became hysterical
again.
"Shhhh. I'm not done yet. He's gone. You
haven't seen hide nor hair of him for months. He hasn't even trained in the
gravity room since then. I know that he wants nothing more in this world that
to be number one, to defeat my Goku. Why would he give up a three-hundred times
Earth's natural gravity training room just because a human woman told him to
leave?"
"I.. I dunno," she hiccuped.
"Because he feels, somehow, that he can't
show his face around here." Chi-Chi paused to let Bulma figure out where
she was going.
"He, he's, ashamed?"
"Perhaps. Maybe he feels rotten for having
upset you so much."
"You're joking."
"Well, it's just a hunch. The last time I
saw him, he was banging on my door. He made Goku-san fight with him all night.
It seems to me it was right around the same night that you kicked him out."
Bulma sighed.
"Feel better?"
"A little. It makes me feel better to think
he's out there somewhere feeling shitty."
The women laughed.
"I'm actually not as surprised as I was when
you first said you and Vegeta were.. you know."
"Why?"
"Of all the women on this planet you're probably
the only one tough enough to handle a man like that!"
"Well, I'm not doing a very good job right
now," she pouted.
"Yes well, it's his turn now. He has to come
to you."
"Do you think he will?" Bulma took the
fresh cup of tea Chi-Chi offered.
"I don't know, Bulma. I don't know."
*
Bulma climbed into bed that night, exhausted from
traveling and crying and talking to Chi-Chi all day. She pulled the covers up
to her chin and huddled for warmth, although the house was always temperature-controlled
at about 70 degrees.
'He has to come to you...' Chi-Chi's words haunted
her. "He'll never come back," Bulma whimpered, "that stubborn,
self-righteous, pig-headed.."
Suddenly she heard a scratching at the window
and froze. She turned her head slowly to face the balcony. 'It CAN'T be..'
The silhouette was unmistakable. The Prince hovered
outside, one hand raised, tapping gently on the fragile glass. Bulma leapt out
of bed and stood with her hands on her hips, trembling, trying to decide whether
or not to let him in. 'It must be 20 degrees out there!' she thought as she
approached the window. She scowled at his darkened form in the starlight and
unfastened the lock. He hesitated in the open window.
"Well, are you gonna come in or not!? It's
freezing outside in case you didn't know!"
He dug his fingers into his crossed arms, but
complied. He touched down on the soft carpet and closed the window behind him.
"What do you want?" she demanded.
He was silent.
"Well!?!" Bulma tried to hide her nervousness.
She couldn't tell what he was after. It was so dark, she could hardly see him.
She let out an exasperated sigh and went to turn on a light.
"Don't!" he cried out and startled her.
"Why not? It's pitch black in here!"
She turned it on and looked back to him. He squinted a little in the brightness.
Bulma let out a short shriek. She didn't expect to see him like that, unshaven
and dirty, like he'd been living outdoors for a few months.
'Oh my god, what the hell happened to you?' she
thought, still too mad at him to show any concern. She saw his eyes flash in
such a way that it made her think that he was embarrassed.
She wasn't the only one who could read eyes, however. He saw her shock and gritted
his teeth thinking she might pity him. He wanted this over as soon as possible.
"I want to use the gravity chamber."
She blinked a few times at him. 'He's asking my
permission?'
He cleared his throat to break the silence. "I cannot defeat the Jinzoningen
if I don't."
"Of course," she turned and thought
hard about what to say. "You can use the chamber. You can stay in it as
well. You will not set foot in any other Capsule building."
He didn't answer. She felt her tears welling up,
but forced them back down with anger. She turned to make certain he was still
there before giving him a piece of her mind. "And if you EVER say ANYthing
like what you said to me again..." Tears flashed in her eyes.
It was like a knife to his heart. Vegeta gnashed
his teeth. "I'm sorry," the Prince murmured almost inaudibly. His
expression remained in the same, stoic frown.
She was completely taken by surprise and struggled
not to show it. "I don't think I'm ready to forgive you yet." She
turned her back to him rather than have to hide her emotions. She heard the
window open and felt the chill of the wintry air.
***
By the time summer came, Vegeta had improved incredibly.
He was able to train without difficulty under the pull of 300 times earth's
normal gravity. Every once in a while he would drop in on Goku, Gohan and Piccolo's
training and play "bad guy". They were amazed at his progress, but
Goku was still a super-Saiyan. Vegeta returned to his chamber continually on
the brink of unconsciousness. He needed to push himself further. He wasn't even
near being able to break the envelope. It drove him insane to think that his
hair would never glow with gold as Goku and the Mirai boy's had, that he would
never know the power. Although Kakarott babbled continually about quieting his
heart, the Prince ignored him. It had nothing to do with emotion! He needed
power, not ridiculous human sensitivity!
He woke late after one such encounter and groggily
crawled out into the sunshine. He made his way into the kitchen. Bulma had allowed
him to have access to this room only so she wouldn't have to wait on him. She
happened to be passing through at the moment he opened the door. Their eyes
met briefly but neither said a word, the same way they had every day since his
return.
She was getting tired of this. Silence. She wished
he would say something, anything. She stole glances at him as he raided the
pantry. He looked exhausted. Today. She would break the silence today.
The afternoon came and Vegeta's energy level
improved, but he still couldn't shake the feeling of having had the crap kicked
out of him the night before. He emerged from the gravity room and tried exercising
in the sun. In the middle of one-handed push-ups he opened his eyes and noticed
that someone was standing there.
"Hey," she said innocently. "How's
it going?"
He ignored her and continued, beginning to sweat
a considerable amount more.
"I was wondering if you'd join me."
"For what?" he grumbled, still not looking
up.
"I want to go into the city to get some ice
cream. It's so nice outside today.."
Vegeta stood and frowned at her. 'Doesn't talk
to me for months and all of a sudden she's inviting me places?' he thought.
"What's ice cream?"
Bulma stared at him for a beat. "Cream, ice..
It's sweet. You'd like it."
*
He was surprised to see the car in one piece.
Bulma muttered something about it running even better than it had the day it
was built. They took the Aston Martin to a place called Happy Clown Ice Cream.
'It's a good damn thing he can't read!' she thought. She ordered for them both.
"I'll have a small vanilla and the largest
chocolate you got."
He liked it. He wouldn't admit it, but the cone
was gone before she finished hers. He leaned up against the side of the car
and waited for her to finish. Bulma noticed a young couple sharing a shake,
felt her heart pinch and quickly looked away. Her eyes rested next on a man,
a woman and baby. She shuddered and threw the rest of the cone away. She sighed
and turned to him.
"Vegeta, I think I'm ready."
"Good, let's go."
"No, that's not what I mean." She stood
in front of the driver's side door to prevent him from getting in. "I mean
I'm ready to forgive you. I mean, I forgive you, Vegeta. I want us to be friends."
They stood in silence, both looking at the other's feet.
The Saiyan took her hand and lead her to the passenger
side of the car. He opened the door and she got in without an argument. She
didn't know what he was doing, but was so emotionally terrified that she went
along. He got behind the wheel and drove her home.
The roadster pulled into the garage. They got
out. Bulma had been trying to anticipate his next move, but just made herself
more nervous doing so. Her next thought was to run like hell. Then he grabbed
her.
Vegeta pulled her to him and wrapped his arms
around her. She gasped with shock and relief. They hugged for a few minutes
in the dim light of the garage, neither speaking.
That night and for many nights thereafter, they slept together. He stayed, all night. He was always gone before she woke in the mid-morning. His regimen stared before the sun rose and Bulma was not a morning person. He wouldn't condescend to use the door. Vegeta entered via the tall window every time. This was fine with her. With Yamcha still hanging around and her poor parents wondering at her happy demeanor it was better that way. Vegeta seemed to know when she didn't want him around, as well. She never had to tell him no, which was a good thing, she thought, because she didn't know if she could tell him no!
One particularly long night, several months into
their routine, after six rounds, Vegeta stared down at her for a while. His
hair bent slightly downwards and he grinned as he scrutinized her. She noticed
this and gave him a puzzled look. He laid on top of her, balancing most of his
weight so as not to crush her and kissed her very gently on the forehead. She
melted.
Bulma never asked anything of him. He did so much,
she wanted for nothing, but right then she wanted him to kiss her on the lips
for once. He never did. He'd kissed every square inch of her body, but avoided
her lips every time. She reached up to grab his head and force him, but he grabbed
her wrists and lifted her arms above her head. He laughed lightly. She put up
a futile struggle in his grip but abandoned it quickly.
"I think you're ready now," he purred
and positioned himself for another go.
"Ready?" she grumbled. "For what..?"
She got no answer and he made love to her harder,
stronger and longer than he ever had before. She screamed and writhed with passion
under him. Usually, Vegeta made no sounds of his own while they had sex. When
he neared the end, he began to growl. It was low at first and built up in volume
slowly. Just as she climaxed, he roared out and let himself go inside her. She
stared in wonder at him, both their backs arched under the orgasm. His teeth
gleamed in the low light as he screamed. Their cries mingled together and petered
out till she was sobbing from the rush. He collapsed at her side finally and
panted.
When she could see straight and breathe normally
she looked over to Vegeta. His chest rose and fell gently. She rolled over and
sidled up to him. He was fast asleep.
"What did you do..?" Bulma whispered and reached out to him. She put
her left arm over his chest and snuggled up close, burying her face in his shoulder.
"That was incredible. I'm still shaking and it's been a half an hour.."
"Then maybe I was wrong," he murmured.
She wasn't surprised that he was awake. You couldn't
touch this man while he was sleeping and expect that he wouldn't be on guard.
"What are you talking about?"
"Maybe you're not up to my level yet. We'll
have to work on that."
She blushed and wanted to curse him out, but smiled
instead. That was amazing, but there was more, so much more he could do...
***
"Bulma, please, come in!" Chi-Chi beamed
as she admitted her guest. She was wearing an apron and had a spatula in her
hand. "Lunch is almost ready!" Bulma took a seat and watched her friend
make six or seven dishes at once.
"Wow Chi-Chi, looks like you're expecting
Gohan and Goku too!"
"Huh?" she blinked and looked at the
amount of food she was making. "Oh my goodness. I can't seem to break the
habit." She looked a little sad.
"It's ok, Chi-Chi. I'm actually REALLY hungry."
"You are?"
"Oh yeah."
"Oh good!" she recovered and began serving
Bulma food, which she consumed in earnest. Between the two of them, hardly a
scrap was left.
"So," Chi-Chi stared at her friend as
she cleared dishes away and brought tea. "How have you been?"
"Well, much better.. sort of."
"Sort of? I thought you and Vegeta were doing
great."
"We are.. so far. I don't know how 'great'
it's gonna be when he finds out.." she grimaced and touched her hand to
her stomach.
"Oh my god, Bulma. You're pregnant!"
*
"This should do it." Dr. Briefs slapped
a circuit panel closed and patted the gravity machine. "This
puppy'll crank to 450 now. I must say you're a mighty impressive fella, Vegeta.
When you asked me to make the 300 I thought you were nuts. I know you'll be
fine with 450," he turned to leave.
"Thanks." the Prince muttered sincerely.
"Hey, no prob."
The door closed and Vegeta got down to business.
'Now,' he thought, 'soon I WILL break the barrier.'
*
"I went to the doctor just last week, but
he's a little baffled. I don't even know when I'm due!"
"Well, when do you think it happened?"
"About three months ago. God, I thought he
was going to break me in half that night!"
"That would be it, then." Chi-Chi blushed
a little. "You have another seven plus months."
"Seven PLUS?!"
"Uhuh, of hell."
"Joy." Bulma pouted. "Was Gohan
that bad?"
"Um, let me think, it was a while ago YES."
Chi-Chi smirked sarcastically.
"Oh..." she moaned. "Great."
"Why aren't you telling Vegeta?"
"I wasn't sure what I wanted to do at first.
Now I'm just kind of afraid what he's going to think. We don't even really want
anyone knowing we're together, although you and Yamcha already do.."
"Goku knows too."
"Chi-Chi!"
"No! I didn't tell him anything! Vegeta must
have told him."
"Oh I doubt that!"
"Well, I didn't. I swear."
Bulma sighed. "I believe you. This is just
so weird. Why couldn't I have found a nice HUMAN man!?!"
"Hey! What's so wrong with alien men, huh?!"
Chi-Chi barked.
"Heh heh heh, sorry."
Chi-Chi sipped her tea. "You're going to
have the baby in a hospital?"
"Yes, why?"
"You might want to have something arranged
about the tail."
"Oh my god!" Bulma had a flashback to
the first time she realized Goku's tail was real. "I forgot about that!"
She stared at her stomach. "I guess I'll pay off my physician to remove
it quickly, no questions asked." She pouted and put her empty tea cup down.
***
'Three months,' Vegeta thought as he powered up
slowly. His anger crested with it as frustration poisoned his attempts to reach
super-Saiyan. He gritted his teeth and pushed his feelings aside. 'Only three
more months.' The word 'months' triggered a strange train of thought. It was
almost 10 months ago that he had impregnated his woman. She looked about ready
to explode any day. He was about to become a father.
His power level rose steadily. He was in complete
control.
'A daughter? A son? A son, it must be a son,'
he thought. "An heir. A Prince.'
The air in the gravity chamber hummed around him.
The display read 450 Gs.
If he should lose his life in the struggle as the Mirai boy had said, his son
would live on to avenge him. He began to reach his current maximum. 'But, what
if the Jinzoningen destroy the boy before he's old enough to fight?' Vegeta's
concentration shifted from his power up to the future of his offspring. He HAD
to defeat these things. They wouldn't touch any son of his! Not while he was
still breathing! Suddenly, Vegeta realized he was pushing the envelope.
*
Mrs. Briefs hummed to herself as she took down
Christmas and New Years decorations and replaced them with pink and red hearts
and doilies. She taped a large valentine to the kitchen window and stopped her
tune as she felt the glass tremble under her hands. The shaking got worse, but
she knew the houses her husband designed were earthquake proof. Soon, she realized
that it was no earthquake. "Oh my!" she cried as she was jostled across
the room.
*
Light poured from the newly-made cracks in the
gravity chamber. Vegeta screamed as the power built up. Higher and higher it
went; he thought he was going to pop!
"YES!!!" he cried as his hair flickered
with flame, "AT LAST!!!" His eyes turned green and he laughed like
a lunatic. He burst through the roof and took off after the ki-signatures of
three particular Z-Warriors.
*
"Everybody ok?" Dr. Briefs asked his
wife and daughter.
"Yeah, hun. What was that?"
"Vegeta just blew up the gravity chamber."
"Why'd he do that?" she inquired.
"I dunno."
"Ow." Bulma winced.
"Punkin?"
*
Vegeta couldn't believe the power. It was a dream
come true. He flew so fast he knew nothing on the planet could possibly detect
him, with sight or otherwise. He couldn't wait to take on Kakarott! He laughed
with glee in anticipation. "Here I come, Kakarott! We'll see who's number
one!!"
Suddenly, he felt something strange. Was it his
new power? Something important. A nagging feeling, like he was forgetting something.
"Forget it! I have more important things
to take care of!"
*
"AAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! WOULD YOU GUYS JUST STOP
IT!? LEAVE ME ALONE! YOU'RE DRIVING ME NUTS!!!" Bulma screamed at her fussing
parents. They were ushered out of the hospital room just as Chi-Chi was escorted
in.
"Oh, Thank god. Chi-Chi, is it supposed to
hurt this muchhhahhhhAAAAH!!!!"
"Unfortunately, yes."
*
Gohan flipped through the air and side-stepped
to avoid Piccolo's eye-lasers. He felt his father come up from behind and spun
to land a kick. All three men stopped in their tracks as they felt the huge
power coming towards them.
"Ah! what's that!?"
"I dunno, but it's enormous!" Piccolo
growled.
"But, they're not supposed to be here for
another three months!"
"I know, Gohan." Goku concentrated.
"It's a.. a.. Super-Saiyan!"
"Not.."
"Vegeta!!?!"
*
"Godamn you, Vegeta where are you!?!"
Bulma hollered as she finished another contraction.
"I'm sure he's on his way."
"Yeah, right. On his way. He better be! Hoo,
hoo, hoo," she breathed. "What could he be doing!?"
*
"VEGETA!!!"
"Huh?!" he stopped and listened. He
swore he heard his name screamed. The sinking feeling he had earlier returned.
He reached out with all his abilities for the source. He gritted his teeth.
'What the hell is going on!?'
"VEGETA, SO HELP ME.. AAAAAAHHH!!!!"
'BULMA!' he gnashed his teeth and balled his fists.
"You got off easy, today, Kakarott!" he yelled to the sky. Still in
Super-Saiyan mode, the Prince rocketed back towards the city.
*
By the time Vegeta arrived, Bulma was cradling
a tiny, purple-haired baby. Her hair was messed, her cheeks were red with exertion
but she radiated a beauty he had never known.
He peered in the window at her. Chi-Chi jumped a bit when she noticed him, but
quickly made excuses and got the nurses and doctors out before they saw the
warrior hovering five floors above the ground.
He stepped in when the coast was clear. She was
in no mood to yell at him for being late. He was there: that was all that mattered.
He stared down at them, the baby fussing quietly in her arms. She beamed up
at him, delirious and happy. "Trunks, meet your father, Vegeta, Prince
of the Saiyans." She held up the baby for his inspection. "Meet your
son."
"A son.." he whispered and took him
from her. He cradled him in his arms and stared into his tiny, blue eyes. Something
about him was almost familiar. He unwound the blankets from the sleepy infant
and inspected him.
Suddenly, Vegeta's face darkened and he roared
at the new mother. "Where is his tail!?!"
"Uh? I had them remove it, I know what kind
of a pain it can be.."
"PAIN!?! what are you talking about? The Saiyan's greatest asset is his
tail! Removing it is like.. like removing his thumb!"
"I.. I thought it was what turns you guys
into were-monkeys!"
"You obviously DIDN'T think, that's the problem!"
Trunks began to cry. Both adults stopped yelling
and stared at him. Vegeta put him down gently and turned his back to them. He
flew out the window before she could curse him. Bulma re-wrapped her son in
a blanket, got up and closed the window. He quieted as he fell asleep. "I'm
sorry.." she whispered to him. "I'm sorry, both of you."
***
May 12th, 9:30 AM
Yamcha stood on a mountain on an island, nine
kilometers southwest of the Southern Capitol and called up to his approaching
friends. "It's Goku and them!" he waved wildly. "Yo!"
Goku set foot on land and blinked in disbelief. "Bulma?"
"We've been waiting for you for a while now.
You're late," said Yamcha.
Bulma tried to ignore Goku and shifted her grip on her baby. "Hi! Gohan,
Wow! Look how much you've grown!"
"You fool!" Goku yelled at her, worried
for her safety. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanna see the Artificial Humans! Don't
worry, once I get a good look at them, I'll leave."
"Never mind that!" Kryllin interjected.
"I'm wanna know why you're holding a baby!?"
"You and Yamcha got married?" inquired
Gohan.
"That's not my kid.. we've split up."
Yamcha replied glumly, "When you find out who's it is, you're gonna be
really shocked!"
Goku approached and addressed the child. "Trunks,
you're Vegeta's son, aren't you?
Bulma's jaw dropped a bit. She was suddenly very
mad at Chi-Chi. "How did you know that?! I didn't tell anyone!"
Goku tried to cover for himself while Piccolo
rolled his eyes. "No, I just had a feeling.. he looks a lot like Vegeta,
doesn't he?"
"But you even got the name right..."
"Really?" he laughed and put his hand
behind his head. "I must be psychic!"
Kryllin who had been bugging out found his tongue.
"That's Vegeta's kid?!?"
"We're not here to chat," Piccolo interrupted.
"Where is Vegeta? Why hasn't he shown up yet?"
Bulma shuffled her feet a little. "I don't
know. We're not living together right now, but I know he'll come! He's trained
very hard for this day." She knew he would. He had to. She had come out,
not only to see the Jinzoningen, but hopefully to get a chance to see him again,
perhaps, if the Z Warriors should fail, for the last time.
Goku nodded. "Yes. He'll definitely come."
Footnote 3
*****
END
FOOTNOTES:
1, 2 and 3 are from the original Japanese version of DBZ, as per the subtitles from the fansubs. As you can probably tell, the dub dialog is really different they way it's SUPPOSED to be.
I took the "You're in my chair" scene from a vampire movie called Nadja. Please see it. It is so choice. NOT RECOMMEND FOR VIEWERS UNDER 16 OR SO!!!
Here's a translation of what Bulma sings in the kitchen:
"Yappari anata wa utsugiri na / Otoko no hito na no ne?
"You're really a fickle boy, aren't you?"
-Pizzicato Five
Thank you Okaasan, Toriyama Akira, Tram Vu, Nora Jemison and Kiadi
revision 2 10.10.01