AN: Okay, so I realized after I had already written the scene that Porunga actually speaks Not Namekian in the Buu Saga. Buuut, I'm really not motivated to change it. Also, I wanted this chapter to be longer, but I'm also doing NaNoWriMo this year, so much of my creative energies have been going into that. Still, it is a bit longer than the last time. I promise, next chapter, we will get much more Tween Monster Vegeta. Vegeta should be making his appearance soon after.
Also, I cannot figure out for the life of me the damn formatting on this website. I am trying. Maybe next time I'll be able to make this prettier.
Warnings: Mature Language.
Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ
King Yemma was not amused. Son Goku had suddenly appeared before his desk and some psychotic harpy he'd brought with him had been screaming at him ever since. He could pick out words, like "bastard" and "you can't" and "do something", but what really caught his attention was "Vegeta".
"Quiet!" the Lord of the Underworld snapped, and although he had not spoken loudly, his size helped his voice resonate throughout the room.
The woman froze and looked up at him with narrowed blue eyes. He'd never seen such a put out look and he'd been generating them in other people for millennia.
"Hey, buddy, I've got something to say and you'd better listen! This is important!" She screamed, finally understandable.
"More important than all of these souls waiting to be processed?" he asked, gesturing towards the never-ending parade of souls lined up behind her.
Bulma glanced over her shoulder and gave a shrug.
"They have eternity. I don't. And that's the problem," she said, calming down now that she was sure she had the giant oni's attention.
King Yemma sighed and placed his rubber stamp down on his desk. He knew from experience that anything dragged in by Son Goku wasn't going to go away just because he told it to. "Speak."
Bulma took a deep, steadying breath and channeled her business meeting "zen".
"I need to know what's going to become of my husband when he dies," she said evenly.
Yemma looked confused.
"Your husband?"
"Vegeta," she replied, stress seeping into her tone.
King Yemma's eyebrows shot up and he began rifling through his book of souls. He delicately picked through the pages, throwing glances at her over his desk. He finally stopped searching and read carefully over several pages before shaking his head and heaving a deep sigh.
"That would make you Bulma Briefs," she nodded her head as he continued. "Your husband has done a great deal of evil in his lifetime and very little to repent."
"What the Hell do you mean? He saved the freaking universe less than a month ago!"
"Yeah! Even the Otherworld would be gone if it weren't for him!" Goku interjected from over Bulma's shoulder.
"Yes, and he saved the world in the same day he allowed himself to be possessed and killed over 80 people," King Yemma said.
"But we wished them back!" Goku replied lamely.
"The things he did in his past aren't his fault. Every evil thing he's ever done was brought on by Frieza! If anyone should suffer for what Vegeta has done, it's that freak," Bulma argued, temper rising.
"If we pardoned every soul whose evil deeds had a reason then no one would go to Hell," King Yemma countered.
"He's really a good person! I know he would have been his whole life if it weren't for Frieza and I know he regrets what he's done!" Bulma's eyes were beginning to sting with tears. This wasn't getting anywhere!
"There is no evidence of that!"
"Is it not evidence enough that he's stayed on Earth all this time, instead of trying to rule the galaxy?"
"I can't remember a time when someone who's earned their way into Hell has earned their way back out," King Yemma said, running out of patience. "If this is all you have to say then you're wasting your time".
"No! No, I'm not! I demand a trial! You can't just condemn people's souls for all eternity without at least a trial!" Bulma yelled, becoming desperate.
"That's what the book is for! You're wasting your time! I can't give just one person out of millions who go through this way station every day a trial. And what evidence could be presented? Your husband's word?"
It was at this point that Bulma realized she was going to have to do something insanely drastic. Her mind raced for possibilities and solutions. "Fine, I'll prove it myself! I'll raise him from a child on my own! I'll wish for another version of him from another timeline and then you'll see that he was never really evil, not even at his worst."
"Woman, that man has been evil all the way through since before puberty," King Yemma said, exasperated. "But you do whatever you want. Since you and your husband are allies of Son Goku, I will give you an opportunity to present your "case" upon the next death of your husband".
Bulma grabbed Goku by the front of his shirt and attempted to shake him, although her anger was impotent against his strength and all she managed to do was stretch out the fabric.
"Take me to New Namek. We need the big guns for this!"
Several hours later, Bulma stood before the Namekian Dragon Balls. As the Balls began to glow and the Dragon rose, her mind whirled, repeating her conversation with King Yemma over and over.
Before puberty, my ass. She thought to herself, angry and - deep underneath the anger - afraid that she was wrong.
She watched as the light of the Dragon bounced off the ominous black clouds above and Porunga's enormous head dipped low to provide her its undivided attention. There's only one way to know for sure, she mused.
She crossed her arms over her chest and looked to Murray, who looked expectantly back at her.
"Tell the Dragon my wish is to have a prepubescent version of my husband from another timeline be brought to me," Murray's hairless eyebrows shot up into his antennae, but he dutifully translated the wish into Namekian anyway.
The Dragon nodded it's head and announced that the wish had been granted, strangely enough so that she could understand him. The Dragon hovered and she belatedly remembered she still had two more wishes on these Balls. Before she had a chance to contemplate those wishes, she was knocked to the ground, Goku standing over of her, a moderate sized ki blast dissipating in his upraised hand.
"Hey, Vegeta! That's not very nice," Goku yelled.
"Where the fuck am I and who the hell are you?"
The voice was high pitched and childlike, but Bulma would recognize those inflections anywhere. That was her husband, but not. The implications of what she'd actually just done whispered on the outside of her thoughts, but she pushed them aside. No time to consider the ramifications now. She leaned her view around Goku's rather large, muscled thigh. Silhouetted against the bright glare of the Dragon Balls she could just barely make out the shape of her husband's hair, only much closer to the ground than usual.
"We're your friends and we're very, very far away from Frieza," Bulma said, loud enough that she was sure the younger Vegeta could hear her.
She screeched and shrunk away from Goku as he stopped several direct blasts, covering her face with her arms. From the gap in the curve of her elbow, she barely detected the small Saiyan taking off into the air. She raised her arm to call for him to wait, but Goku was already grabbing the boy right out of the sky and pulling him into a bear hug against his chest. Vegeta struggled, his blue aura becoming visible as he thrashed and kicked and bit at a largely unaffected Goku.
"You have to calm down," Goku said, assuming his serious voice. "We only want to help you!"
"Go fuck yourself, you psycho!" Vegeta growled, nailing Goku in the knee with his heel hard enough to possibly leave a bruise.
"This isn't working," Bulma said to herself, her hands threading themselves in her hair. "Tell the Dragon that I wish he had to do what I tell him," she gestured wildly in the direction of the struggling pair.
The moment the words left her mouth she was already rethinking them. Yes, that would make him have to listen to her, but would it make him any more likely to trust her? As she began to tell Murray to change the wish, the Dragon nodded and affirmed again that the wish was done. Too late for regrets, she thought, maybe she can unwish it with the last wish.
"Vegeta, stop and calm down!" She yelled.
Immediately, the struggle stopped and she breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps, if used sparingly, the second wish could stay. Goku dropped to the ground and let go of the boy, letting him fall to his feet. The child version of the warrior stood and glared in both their directions, but made no hostile moves.
The Dragon suddenly grumbled something, sounding irritable. Murray turned to her and told her the Dragon wanted her third wish. She briefly entertained the idea of wishing her version of Vegeta would also have to listen to whatever she told him, or at the very least that he couldn't kill her when she brought home what was likely his worst nightmare.
She should probably unwish her last wish, but looking at the already seething expression the boy was sporting even after being ordered to calm down made her hesitate. Yes, he would probably hate her for a long time, but if she couldn't ever get him to listen to her it might actually take longer. This Vegeta already seemed wild and she tried to imagine being left in a room alone with him, trying to gain his trust while praying he didn't just blast her head off. Her Vegeta hadn't done that, but he'd also been through his death on Namek. While he'd never told her directly, she knew that had been the life changing event that had given him the patience to not just kill her and steal her spaceship.
Squaring her shoulders, she made her decision. She had until the next time Vegeta died to gather enough evidence of his better qualities. While she tried to be optimistic, the reality was that she had no way of telling when the next Universe-threatening, mega-powerful baddie would appear. It could as easily be next week as it could be in 30 years. She knew without any uncertainty, though, that one would. She couldn't afford to waste time trying to coax this new Vegeta into talking to her.
In all the years she'd known Vegeta, she'd never had the opportunity to have a real, two-way conversation with him. What she knew of him, she'd gathered over many years of careful listening and scientific conjecture. His past and his emotions were locked up and sometimes she wondered if he was even aware of their existence most days.
Taking one final, deep breath, she told Murray her final wish.