Part 2

Vegeta chuckled at the blue haired woman as she walked away from him in a huff. They'd been doing this little game of cat and mouse since she'd rescued him. He'd rile her up, they'd argue, then go their separate ways. It was fun to watch her face turn red and she had become his source of entertainment. He enjoyed her fire and spirit, and if it wasn't for her unique coloring he would've mistaken her for a Saiyan; at least in spirit, if not in body. For a human, he admired her brains. Vegeta, of course, would never tell her that. It wasn't his way and for a few brief moments he felt disgusted with himself for feeling these things. He was a warrior, they didn't entertain such notions.

They had a week left before they arrived on the Resistance planet and he couldn't wait for real food. Sure, the protein packs were everything she said they would be, but he wanted meat, vegetables, cheese, rice; all of the good foods he missed eating. After being starved for so long, a huge hot meal was what he craved. He then turned to watch the woman again so he wouldn't think about food. She sat in the pilots chair with a note pad on her lap. Writing and occasionally scratching out words or sentences. It was then that he noticed the bar-code on her arm, right above her wrist vein. The grayish black ink faded from time. With the amount of fade it must've been there for a long time. A slave brand, the same type that adorned his own wrist.

"Where did you get that?" He found himself asking, his mouth speaking the words he should've kept bottled up.

Her sapphire eyes connected with his before she looked down at her wrist before pulling her sleeve down over it. "I've had it for as long as I can remember."

"A slave mark."

"Yes, Vegeta. That's why Freeza wants me back. My father was his top slave scientist and my whole family was under his thumb. I escaped to build an army. I ran into Bardock and his family and have been a part of the Resistance ever since. I only hope he and my mother are still alive." Bulma's eyes looked down at the notepad in front of her. A tear stained the otherwise pristine page. "Zarbon wanted to do other things with me since he didn't believe I was as smart as my family claimed. On Earth I was being trained to take over my father's company one day."

"How old?"

"I was twelve."

"I see." He turned away. "Crying doesn't suit you."

Vegeta couldn't be in her presence anymore. He had heard about her father and knew that he didn't have much time left. Freeza made the man work with chemicals that were highly toxic to humans, the tyrant never planed on her father living this long.

XXXXXXXXxxxx

After Vegeta left the room she pondered upon that conversation. Usually, they would fight and argue about stupid things. It was just that way. It had been almost two weeks since they left Freeza's ship and another week until they reached their destination. Bulma hoped it was soon because she didn't know if she wanted to slap the arrogant prince or kiss him. Some of their arguments led to the former option and others the latter. Yes, she could admit that the prick was attractive, she'd have to not be into men to not see it. He had been eating the rations regularly and he was starting to build back his body stature. He complained often about the lack of food and she told him to suck it up. She'd only had to stun him twice more since he boarded the ship and the last time was because he was trying to gain the upper hand on her.

When he wasn't training he was insistently trying to get a rise out of her and she was certain it was for his own amusement. Bulma shook her head and sighed as she put the notepad down. Sometimes she wished one of the other members of the council would take her job. She wasn't the leader by any means, but she was the face. She had to write speeches and give speeches, lecture and plan. Being a genius had it's perks but also downfalls. On top of crafting weaponry she had to cater to the masses of volunteers that fought for their cause.

Bardock had said it was because the volunteers could relate to her. Bulma just felt it was his way of saying he didn't want to do it anymore. She couldn't blame him, his sons had very little experience with such matters and Nappa was not a diplomat by any means. He was a soldier through and through. That wasn't to say she fit the bill well, either. Sure, she had some experience on Earth as young as she was. Being smarter than others gave her the ability to understand more that people thought. She gave her first speech at eight.

Bulma was seriously going to have words with Bardock when they got back to base. She had a feeling Vegeta wasn't going to be a willing soldier, he might go off on his own and do something reckless.

Xxxxxx

The base came into view and Vegeta was relieved. Sure, he was stretching his legs and training on this ship when he wasn't aggravating the blue-haired vixen. Yet, he was starting to feel slightly claustrophobic. Being in the ship sometimes made him feel like he was back in that cell, especially at night. He hated being alone with his thoughts, with what he had suffered, with everything that had happened. His tail twitched with agitation while the ship shook with turbulence. Yes, he was happy they were landing so he could get away from all this.

Vegeta's thoughts had turned strange in the last few days, especially considering Bulma. He didn't know whether he wanted to strangle her or bite her. Looking at the pale expanse of her neck, the vein throbbing under the tension as she steered the ship caused him to pant slightly. Even he could admit she was beautiful. He'd be a fool to deny his attraction. Yet, his thoughts were of the dangerous sort. Biting was a Saiyan custom, reserved for mating. He couldn't cross that line.

He'd been attracted to females on his missions but he couldn't bring himself to take them. No one stirred the urge like she did. They were timid females, hardly worthy of his time or attention. They did not talk back to him, they did not have fire. Even the Saiyan females that his father picked for him to court were unworthy in his eyes. Fear was always present. Vegeta didn't want their fear, he wanted their fire. He wanted their passion, but it was something they were told never to give.

Vegeta felt his father was to blame for that. "A female Saiyan is a warrior on the battle field but tends to her mate in all things. Your mother dotes on me and any female knows her place." So they were timid around him, peaceful, docile. A disgrace in his mind. He would try to get them to argue, instead they would concede to his will. The task of finding a mate on Vegeta-sai seemed hopeless, futile. Then Freeza ended any hope he'd ever have to finding anyone, or so he thought.

His musings were broken as the ship rocked forward before landing in the loading dock. A hiss escaped as the shuttle shut off and the airlocks disengaged. Vegeta felt like he could breathe again as he exited the ship without even waiting for the blue temptress. Food was his main concern and he felt he didn't have to wait for her when he could smell it from here. To his loathing dismay she caught up with him and grabbed his arm. If she were more durable he would've jerked out of her grip, instead he turned his sour gaze on her and glared.

"What, woman?"

"I know what you are after and you need to go to the medical bay first."

"No. I want food."

"Vegeta."

"No, woman! Food, now!" He gritted his teeth.

"Hey, don't make me stun you again. I know you're still not at full strength yet and I can wipe the floor with your ass."

He smirked at her audacity and chuckled. "You? A weak little human female challenging me, the Prince of all Saiyans to physical combat? This is priceless."

To his surprise she set herself in a fighting stance and gave him a look that if he were a lesser man would send him running. "Your first mistake is underestimating me."

"Hmph." Vegeta shrugged and raised an eyebrow. "I have no desire to fight you woman. Take me to this medical bay so I may finally get a decent meal."

He watched her eyes widen comically before relaxing her stance. "This way."

"Know this, woman. If anyone else talked to me the way you do they'd be a flaming pile of ashes. Consider yourself lucky that I find you entertaining and useful. Don't make me regret my decision of keeping you around." Vegeta huffed as he followed her.

XxxxXXxxxxxx

Bulma sighed as she led Vegeta to the cafeteria. The medical ward appointment didn't go as planned. She had to keep telling him he couldn't incinerate the scientists and doctors who were poking and prodding at him. They had to give him several shots for all the vitamins and nutrients that he'd lost during his time in captivity. Not only that, but he was still a bit dehydrated from the ordeal. After his issues had been corrected and he'd been cleared to eat actual food he dragged her out of the ward and demanded to know where it was he had to go to eat.

So there they were walking through the twisted hallways towards the mess hall. Even though he grumped and grumbled he held himself with an air of dignity. He walked like the royalty he was with his posture straight and arms comfortably held behind his back. Bulma chuckled to herself, finding his actions somewhat amusing. There was no doubt in her mind that he was a spoiled prince.