Rating: PG

In Sickness

Considering the strength and physical health of Frieza's army as a whole, illness was something that was very rarely heard of. When it did strike, it was something to be concerned about.

Saiyans in particular were often ones to ignore medical advice. Only if their limbs were shattered and their lungs half-collapsed would they reluctantly agree to be lifted into the regeneration tanks.

Perhaps such stubborn pride was why Raditz was stretched out on one of the metallic, sterilised tables of the medical wing. A mask over his mouth and nose pumped clean air through his lungs. Wires piercing his body kept a check on his breathing and heart rate. And an irritated Zarbon stood beside him.

He was under orders to bring some medical data to Frieza, something that he wasn't particularly happy about doing. He was a general, dammit, not a messenger boy. But he valued having a neck between his head and his shoulders a little too much to voice any objection. So he waited, stood beside the Saiyan, almost, but not quite, leaning against the table as the doctor hastily went about isolating the data gathered so far in order to give a good average reading that would please Frieza.

As he waited, there was suddenly the feeling of a very faint pressure around his wrist. Glancing down, Zarbon saw the Saiyan's tail wrapping itself loosely around his arm.

He looked away, back at the piece of wall that his attention had been on before. Zarbon curled his fingers up, closing them around Raditz's tail and began to scratch lightly at the thick fur.

The doctor glanced over, having built up a habit of keeping a continuous check on his patients long ago. He saw Raditz's tail wrapped around Zarbon's wrist. He also saw Zarbon's fingers slowly moving, stroking it.

He quickly decided that it was none of his business.

END