Two hours in the wilderness and she could already feel half-moons of dirt caking inside her nails. Bulma tried taking deep breaths, she tried counting, everything, but none of it served to calm her frazzled nerves.
Her entire body shook with exhaustion, and after casting a glance at her small companion, she could tell he was just as tired. They had left as soon as the meet-and-greet was over, taking Raditz's advice and removing themselves from the makeshift arena the majority of the men and women had gathered around. Laying low seemed the best option for the duo, so they took off, on foot, giving Bulma a chance to scour the planet and Gohan the opportunity to concentrate his energy on sensing the battle.
Bulma could tell by the pallor of his complexion that it must have been a blood bath, and while the kid was innocent enough to find horror in the situation he was so focused on, she was relishing in the thought of their competition being slimmed so quickly.
"I guess this is as good a place as any," she shrugged, fishing into her satchel and puling out a capsule. This was enough space to put between themselves and battle. She tossed it into a clearing and, with a pop, it revealed a small dome shaped shelter. "Our home away from home, Gohan."
He couldn't help but grin as they stepped into the modern housing unit. Bulma opened the fridge and pulled a soda out for herself, offering the contents to the wide-eyed boy. Though it was only a capsule home, Bulma only traveled in style – this was certainly more luxury than the boy was used to.
"We're probably going to be the only ones to have air-conditioning around here," she took a seat on the couch, expression thoughtful. "I hope that doesn't paint a target on our backs."
Gohan joined her on the couch, sinking into the plushness of it and sitting up straight. Bulma smiled at the awkward child, who seemed so uncomfortable.
"Everything okay Gohan?"
"Yeah," he answered, staring off into space. "I can't believe how fast they're dying."
Again, Bulma inwardly cheered. "That's a good thing kid, it means there's less people out to get us."
"It also means only the strongest are left."
"Oh. Right."
"That guy saw us," he continued, meeting her eyes. "The others were busy talking and laughing, but he looked right at me."
"Yeah," she whispered. "I saw him."
"Some of those guys were really scary looking aliens, big and creepy, but he was the most terrifying. He'll remember us."
"Unless someone gets to him first."
Gohan sighed. "So what do we do while we're sitting ducks?"
"Uh," Bulma forced a smile. "I brought DVD's and there's popcorn."
His expression remained unmoved and she nudged his shoulder playfully. "Or we can always study."
"A movie sounds good."
Idiots, the lot of them.
He watched as a green woman with large, yellow fangs fought a burly humanoid with mild interest. They were weaklings as far as he was concerned, and as he surveyed his surroundings his scouter revealed that the rest of them were hardly competition.
Unfolding the arms that had been pressed against his chest plate, he once again scanned the crowd looking for a sign of Cui. For years he'd been itching to remove the smug smile off the purple bastard's face, and now that he finally had an opportunity Cui was nowhere to be seen.
Frieza would have had him severely punished if he'd lashed out at Cui, one of his elite warriors, before, but now, with both of them here to serve as "spies" for their Lord, he would face no repercussions of driving Cui's bloody corpse into the soil of whatever backwards planet this happened to be.
Though a large group of Frieza's soldiers had jumped at a chance of this tournament, whether it be out of hatred for their lord or the pure joy of fighting, a few other more elite warriors, such as Cui and himself, had been intermixed to put an end to the insubordination. While Cui may have wholeheartedly supported the cause and been more than happy to eliminate anyone who dared speak against Frieza, Vegeta had ulterior motives. Yes, he was eager to get his hands dirty, but mostly he took it as a chance to strengthen himself and earn a chance to fight Frieza. He figured he would either die on this planet or come out alive and stronger than ever. Both were positive alternatives to the miserable existence he'd experienced living as a purger under Lord Frieza.
He tapped the side of his scouter, trying to search out Cui's signal, but once again met with the familiar indicator of Raditz's scouter. His brows narrowed in confusion, there had to be a mistake… Earlier that day he had sensed the same signal, and he had turned to chew the insubordinate Saiyan out for breaking the rules and joining him on the planet, when instead he found the scouter in the possession of a powerless little female. He had thought it to be a mistake, the signal must have been off and it wasn't in fact Radtiz's scouter, but then he noticed the small boy shaking at her side. He frowned, a small boy with a tail that looked eerily Saiyan.
He knew it was impossible, but still, as he studied the trembling brat he could see some resemblance of Raditz and was at once angered and amused by the Saiyan's coupling. Surely he was seeing things.
The woman blasted a gaping hole through the brawny man's sternum, and after he dropped to the ground with an unceremonious plop, the crowd cheered as she lifted her green arms in triumph. Vegeta rolled his eyes as another battle was quickly underway. The idea was that everyone was awarded one fight, cutting the competition in half, and then they would disperse for the hunting, the real fun, to begin.
He remained unmoved until it was his turn to battle, an armor-less man with coarse blue fur. With a smirk, Vegeta levitated off the ground.
"Since I'm in such a good mood today I'm going to give you the first move."
His opponent's feet remained planted firmly on the ground as he began gathering energy.
"Funny Vegeta, I didn't think you were ever in a good mood," the man said, releasing the blast, which Vegeta dodged by cocking his head to one side with a laugh.
In a flash, he was behind the man, pinning his arms behind his back as he murmured in protest. With a small blast hovering inches from his outstretched middle and forefinger, Vegeta smirked.
"On the contrary, putting an end to your miserable existence is quite the pick-me-up."
With that, he released the pinprick of energy against the man's shoulder blade. Vegeta dropped the limp body face first, and his smirk remained intact at the roar of applause that erupted once the dust had settled around the fallen man's corpse.
Her hand slid from the bridge of her nose to her eye, two of her finger pressing lightly into her shut sockets before catching the edge of her cheek and falling from her face to the floor. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling from her position on the couch. Turning her head slightly, she could see Gohan sitting on the recliner with a textbook perched on his lap. She released a noisy sigh and, when the small boy didn't give her any indication that he'd heard her she pursed her lips and forced out a rather unlady-like noise.
"Gohan," she whined, reaching for her diet soda. "I'm bored."
The Saiyan glanced up from his book. "I'm sorry Bulma. You could try building something."
"I've been making things for a week Gohan," she moaned. It had not escaped her attention that she was complaining to a child, but he had been her sole company for nearly a week. She thought someone would have at least been on their way to kill them by now. "I've nearly run out of raw materials, and I've taken apart too many small appliances. The toaster's shot and I'm unwilling to part with the coffee pot." She frowned. "Though there's not much to wake up to, really."
He shut his textbook and slid off the couch. "Well, we can make dinner if you'd like."
She turned her attention to the digital alarm above the television and frowned. Sure, it was evening Chikyuu-time, but the cycles on this planet had completely thrown her off. There were forty-or-so hour periods of brightness and darkness, as the planet had two suns and zero moons. She'd decided that the absence of a moon was to her advantage having a tailed Saiyan hanging around, but the long days and nights disrupted any chance she had at maintaining a normal routine.
So even though it was technically dinnertime, it looked more like midmorning outside. "How about breakfast?"
Gohan grinned and nodded eagerly. He rather liked living with Bulma; though she was loud and vulgar and bossy sometimes, she was fun and free spirited. While his mom had kept him on a rigorous schedule, Bulma was far more laid back. She joked with him and let him have dessert whenever he wanted, and she never made him study vocabulary words.
Truthfully, she'd become more of a sister than a maternal figure, even though she was older than his mother.
"Breakfast?" He asked, following her into the kitchenette. "We've already had lunch."
"Oh," she grinned, pointing the whisk at him. "So you're saying you don't want some of my world-famous chocolate chip pancakes?"
His smile widened as she poured the entire bag of chocolate chips into the batter, which was a hefty total considering his Saiyan appetite.
She licked the whisk when she was done stirring and Gohan prepared the pan.
Bulma wasn't a bad cook. Actually, she viewed cooking a bit like chemistry – she could follow recipes to the T, making no mistakes, everything perfectly measured and cooked on the exact time, precise heat. However, she simply didn't posses the art of cookery. She hadn't the knack Chichi had for substituting her own ingredients and altering recipes with her own flair to make the dishes even better.
But Gohan would never refuse her chocolate chip pancakes.
They were seated at the table, Bulma talking aloud, trying to come up with some sort of calendar system when Gohan's small form stiffened.
"What?" She asked, brows knitting together. "Everything okay?"
He swallowed audibly and sat down his fork. "Someone's coming. Stay inside, okay Bulma?"
She froze, panicked, and cursed her earlier musings on a more exciting time here. "Gohan," she whispered, staring at the boy who now stood by the door, chest puffed slightly, shoulders back, as though improving his posture would improve his strength.
Though he was a thousand times stronger than her, Bulma knew there was no way she was going to let him fight alone. Gathering her bag and capsulated weapons, Bulma followed the boy outside against his wishes.
"Bulma, I'm probably going to have to fight. I can't protect you."
Rolling her eyes, Bulma retrieved a ki gun and clipped on her scouter. "I think you're forgetting who's here to protect who, little guy."
Before he could retort, a slim man with yellow hair slicked-back into a low ponytail landed in front of the pair. Gohan froze and Bulma frowned at his unwashed appearance. Apparently not everyone had the afforded luxury of soap and running water.
With a light chuckle, the man studied Gohan and Bulma. "And just what planet are you two delicate things from? When my scouter picked up two puny power levels I would never have guessed they belonged to a woman and child."
Launching himself into fighting stance, Gohan growled. "I'm giving you a chance to leave here in peace. I won't harm you if you get up now and go back to wherever you came from."
Bulma blinked at the stern confidence in his voice; she noted the resemblance to his father as he stood, fists clinched ready to attack.
The man's laughter reverberated amongst the trees lining their hiding place. "Is that a threat brat? Well, I assure you, I'm up for the challenge."
"Don't say I didn't warn you."
With that, the small boy launched himself towards the man so quickly all Bulma could make out was a yellow blur. She tried her hardest to watch as the pair took into the air, exchange blows, but she could only assume Gohan was winning when the pair descended to the ground and the man was panting heavily.
He smiled at Gohan. "You're good kid. Better than I gave you credit for. It also seems you've the ability to suppress your power level. An interesting trick I will attempt to master as soon as I'm done with you."
Lifting his palm, the man gathered an aqua energy blast and hurled it towards Gohan. Jumping into the air, he easily dodged the attack but craned his neck to watch as the blast passed below him and crashed into the capsule house.
"Gohan!" Bulma shrieked. "You idiot! Our house! Look what you've done!"
Ignoring her shouts, Gohan quickly retaliated by gathering a blast of his own and launching it towards the blond man. Before he could dodge the attack, the blast hit him in the arm, blasting it clear off.
Bulma stared wide-eyed as the left limb lay bloodied on the dirt. She swallowed, trying her hardest to suppress the bile that rose to her throat. She'd never seen someone maimed so grotesquely before, but she had to hand it to Gohan as he quickly put himself together and leapt towards the man, punching so quickly that Bulma had to once again rely on her scouter.
She could tell the man's energy was quickly depleting, and she wondered if Gohan had it in him to finish him off. She knew his father had never been one to fight to the death, and, as the man dropped to the ground and Gohan hovered over his unconscious body, he was to do the same.
Panting, Gohan lowered himself to the ground. He gently nudged the man's side and, seeing that he was still breathing but not in any shape to retaliate, turned to Bulma.
"I guess our house is gone."
She turned from the shocking sight before her to the mass of rubble that was once their home. With an angry expression, she turned back to the boy.
"We'll have to relocate anyway. I can fly us somewhere else and we can set up camp. We have a lot of time before he wakes up."
Bulma could only manage to nod.
"Hey Bulma," Gohan asked, eyes remaining on his competition, sprawled out, face first on the ground. "Do you think he'll come after us?"
"Honestly," Bulma whispered, adjusting her bag and moving towards the boy. "I think someone else will just finish him off. He's out cold, an easy target for anyone who sensed this battle."
"I'm sure they'll be able to do what I couldn't."
Bulma smiled, placing a hand on his small shoulder. "Gohan, that was noble of you to stop. You fought very well, even if you did blow up our house."
With a nod, the boy picked her up and took into the air. "And Bulma?"
"Yes?"
"Thanks for the pancakes."
It had been days since Gohan's fight with the nameless soldier, but Bulma wasn't sure how many. The only other capsule home she'd brought with them was half the size and clock-less. Not to mention its absence of wondrous things such as a coffee pot and indoor plumbing.
No, this house was sparse and small and her boredom had increased ten-fold. Not that she wanted to run into anyone else after their last encounter to add to the excitement.
Although, she thought, dying would ensure she'd be brought back with the Dragon Balls…
To cure the temporary monotony, Bulma wandered through the woods, exploring the strange and exotic vegetation. She wondered which plants were edible, which were poisonous, and which could cure wounds and diseases. She thought she might enjoy exploring the planet had she not been in constant fear of her life.
Gohan was off bathing in their stream, and he could spend hours swimming around, talking to the fish, doing nothing but enjoying nature. Bulma rolled her eyes. She, on the other hand, was sick and tired of having to bathe herself in the freezing water and making the trip back alone, cold and miserable.
She missed the comfort of their shower and her fluffy white towel. Both of which had been blasted to a million pieces.
"I want a shower!" She shouted, voice echoing against the dense foliage. "And why can't those idiots just wish me back alive and well – right this instant. Can you here me? Wish me back! I want to be back on Chikyuu! Arg."
She was suddenly jolted from her tantrum when her scouter flashed that Vegeta was approaching.
Confused, she tapped the screen. "Vegeta?" She whispered. What's a Vegeta?
The sound of a deep chuckle brought her attention away from the dark green screen to a man a few yards in front of her leaning casually against a tree.
"Yes?" He asked, smirk donning his features.
"Are you," she swallowed, trying to steady to her voice. She wanted to appear strong and brave, but she was sure he could hear the quiver in her voice. "Vegeta?"
"Hn." He stood up straight, no longer relying on the tree for support, and she noted that he wasn't as tall as she'd originally thought when she'd first seen him. There was no mistaking it; he was the man who had seen her on their first day on planet Cerius. The man haunting her nightmares for weeks.
"My scouter," she frowned. "It said you were approaching."
"Correction: Raditz's scouter said I was approaching."
"Oh," she could feel the corners of her mouth lifting towards a smile. "Are you a friend of Raditz?"
"Sorry woman," his smirked grew. "I don't have any friends."
With a step back, Bulma reached behind her, fingers locking around the gun she'd tucked between her rear and the waistband of her skirt.
Holding her breath, she whipped the gun around, squeezed the trigger, and prayed.
In retrospect, shooting blindly probably wouldn't ensure the best results, not to mention her hands were hardly steady, but after the sound of the blast and some exploding rubble in the distance, Bulma cracked open one eye to levy the damage.
He had moved to the right of the blast and she could see the confusion etched on his features, head twisted towards the smoke billowing in the distance from the blast's impact on an unfortunate boulder.
Slowly, his attention turned back towards Bulma, whose hands remained outstretched, clutching the gun, and his confusion melted into amusement. With a deep chuckle, the soldier raked her figure, eyes stopping at the outstretched weapon and darting slightly away from her heaving chest.
"Interesting bit of machinery."
In mid-blink, he was behind her, pinning her arms against her side. She could feel his warm, steady breath against her cheek. He chuckled, reveling in her fear.
Clutching both of her fragile wrists in one hand, Vegeta brought his free hand to her slender neck, encompassing the pale skin with his gloved fingers.
"You will pay dearly for attacking a Saiyan elite."
Before he could snap her neck, Bulma pressed the gun against his side and squeezed the trigger.
Cursing, he fell to his knees, releasing her to clutch his injured side. Without taking a second to assess the extent of his injuries, Bulma took off running, dodging trees with speed she hadn't known she'd possessed.
When she was fairly sure she was lost without any chance of making her way back to Gohan, she stopped to catch her breath. Placing both hands on her hips she sighed in relief. Her scouter gave her no indication that Vegeta was coming after her and she tucked the gun back into the band of her skirt.
She was surprised by the success of her weaponry. Bulma had seen first had what it had done to the boulder, reducing it to a pile of rubble, and then bringing a Saiyan to his knees.
That brought her grand total of Saiyan acquaintances to four, and this Vegeta was by far the scariest of the bunch. While Radtiz's intimidation had come from his sheer size and Neanderthal looks, Vegeta exuded darkness. She could feel the shiver threatening the base of her spine. He'd be pissed when he'd recovered, and she was more than sure he'd come seeking revenge.
And Vegeta was certainly not someone she'd wanted to make an enemy of. If Raditz was stronger than Goku, and Raidtz said the Saiyan in the tournament was stronger than he, she couldn't fathom the amount of power he possessed.
One of the suns of Cerius was currently positioned directly above her, while the other skirted on the distant horizon. She could feel the sweat gathering under her breasts and she wanted to remove the more constricting parts of her ensemble.
Fighting the urge to complain aloud, Bulma shielded her eyes with the palm of her hand and continued her trek aimlessly through the wilderness. She was fairly certain she was walking in circles when she stumbled upon a patch of blue flowers for the third time. With a sigh, she kicked a rock into the mound and started back in the opposite direction.
She'd made it twenty or so paces when her scouter registered a power level heading in her direction. This time, however, it didn't send out a friendly warning that an acquaintance was heading her way, and she remained planted until a creature with skin the color of swamp water and the texture of cement came into view.
Taking two steps back before turning and running, Bulma found herself once again darting trees and leaping over roots through the unfamiliar forest.
"It's official, I'm going to die today…"
The creature snorted, and she turned her head slightly to watch as it lower its head, baring stubbed horns.
"What is that thing?" She muttered, but kept her pace.
Her knees began to wobble and her side cramp, but she continued to sprint through the dense foliage. Hurdling another fallen branch, Bulma then saw a man lying before her, and, without giving it much thought, leapt over him as well.
Vegeta turned his head and saw the disgusting creature heading in his direction. Though the woman had avoided him he doubted he would afford him the same courtesy. From his position on the ground, he lifted his hand and blasted the being.
Turning, wide eyed, to the scene before her, Bulma panted, placing both hands on her knees as her lungs fought for air.
"Xerion. Disgusting bastards."
"Tha-thank you," she said, glancing down at the bloodied, beaten Saiyan. Though his armor was tattered and his pride bruised, he was still intact. "For saving my life."
"It wasn't for your benefit."
She nodded. "I know. Intentional or not, you still saved me."
"And now, woman, I'm going to make you pay."
Though his voice was deep and threatening, Bulma was not intimidated as he tried to steady himself. Placing one of his hands on his knees, he narrowed his thick brows before he swayed and his legs gave out.
Rushing to his side, Bulma attempted to steady him, but he buckled to his knees and slumped awkwardly against her. She sunk to the ground with him, a look of concern gracing her features and he snarled at her.
She did not belong here. And yet, there she was alive and well when he was a pathetic mass of useless limbs. And she had brought him down dishonorably with machinery. It was maddening.
Glancing over his injuries, Bulma slid her arms off his shoulders and watched as he fought, and lost, consciousness. With a sigh, she got to her feet and pulled at the bulky man's arms.
"An eye for an eye, I guess."
And without full knowledge of what possessed her to do so, Bulma dragged the unconscious man back to her and Gohan's encampment.
I apologize for all the corny "battle talk". That's just how I picture boys getting. And I'm shit at writing fight scenes so there's got to be a little dialogue peppered in otherwise it'd just be unbearable.
Also, what color is Vegeta's scouter? I've been writing 'red' because it just seems a little manlier than 'magenta'. Eh.
Thank you to all of my wonderful reviewers. You make my day.
