A/N: Thank you guys so much for all the incredible feedback, it's been a huge boost to keep me going with all this. I love hearing which parts people like or how they interpret certain interactions. Anyway, I was going to have this chapter up sooner but I wound up rewriting it like five-ish times. This final draft is bits and pieces of all of those put together. Won't lie, I'm still not happy with it, but this is a segue chapter and it's pretty hectic. There are some parts in here I'm proud of none the less, and hopefully those will cover for the rest. The next chapter should be a much more pleasant read with the Vegeta/Bulma interaction I've been dying to get out. Oh and I should take a moment to respond to a question I received.
BlazedC: Way back when, I wrote for a lot of fandoms including this one, but those stories are gone for good reason. I'm not going to sugar coat this, just gonna say it. They were all smut fics. Bad smut fics written by an inexperienced horny teenager. I'm hoping I'll be able to devote some free time to putting out a shorter story or a couple of one shots soon. Those other fics are buried with my shame.
Please send me those all inspiring reviews, let me know what worked and what didn't so I can give you guys what you want.
The walk back to her office was the fastest she'd ever made it, and she was so lost in her own thoughts she didn't notice that no fewer than three members of her staff slipped on the bloody footprints she left in her wake. She was too busy running over every possible reason Frieza could be contacting her directly. Obviously there were no projects over due, she planned for that now. It was possible he knew she was developing a weapon to use against him. Well, she was certain he did know she had something up her sleeve, it would be serious case of enemy underestimation otherwise, and they were both too cautious for that. The question was whether or not he actually finally had any indication as to what she was up to. That would mean a leak.
That was unlikely though, and not because she trusted her staff. Bulma had gone above and beyond to make sure such a thing was next to impossible. Each part of the project was farmed out to different departments under the guise of being upgrades and developments for other things. There was only a handful of people that knew they were working on something that wasn't to be sent to Frieza, and those people had the least important parts to work on, the innocuous parts that wouldn't arouse suspicion. It was more likely that someone had started piecing things together, but even that was a bit of a stretch. There was only one person working on piecing all the individual parts together and that was Bulma. All that she did for it was done at home, not even saved to a computer. It was written out by hand and locked safely away. It would be fucking impressive if anyone had anything worth leaking to Frieza.
She wouldn't let herself get cocky and rule it out. There were employees with a lot of access, a few of her assistants and board members and the like. Not to mention personal connections that may not have access to her data but did have access to her. She was careful to keep everything tucked away, but not even she was perfect. She'd compile a list of possibilities depending on how this meeting went. It was entirely possible that he wanted something specific from her and wouldn't pass the task along to anyone else. She probably shouldn't waste too much time speculating, time was running slim.
As soon as she made it to her office she kicked off her ruined shoes and combed her fingers through her hair while peering in the mirror. She gave a quick frown and then tugged the tube of lipstick from her bra and gave her lips a refresh. In a way, this was retreating to a safe space for Bulma. She had no control over what was about to happen, but she could control the image she presented. While Frieza would not be impressed by her physical appearance, looking perfect made her feel strong. Like nothing could shake her. Granted her feet and calves were a bit of a mess, but none of that would be visible during the call.
She drew in a deep breath before stepping in front of the large screen in her office where the call would be sent to. She gave her hair a final fluff, put the most pleasant smile she could muster on her face, and waited for the image of a monster to light up her office.
The attempt to overcome his bindings left him more drained than he was prepared to admit, and he could no longer resist the weaker pull from the collar on his neck. His face was back into the filth. On top of that he could feel the blood trickling down from the spot where those ridiculously impractical shoes had pierced him. No, he mused rather grimly, they weren't impractical after all. The woman could wield them like a fucking weapon as indicated by the blood dribbling off his hand. He could see his own blood joining the coagulated mess beneath him, and he felt his stomach lurch. It was almost like witnessing a prophecy, his blood mixed with endless others on the white tile floor in the Weapons Testing department. He tilted his head just enough to not have to see the drops falling now from his brow. Granted this forced him to view a far more surreal sight: the humans.
Bizarre and pathetic little creatures they were. The two that remained in the great blue bitches wake reminded him vaguely of birds squawking helplessly, these two into their radios to abide their mistress. They were terrified of her, and that was what was perplexing. Yes the news of the call from Frieza was certainly rattling them, but no at the core of it all, they were afraid of her. It's not like she held any physical threat against them, they were humans, they were safe. Yet they all acted like she was about to send them to the executioner for failing even slightly. The female, tall with a mass of dark curly hair, had still not recovered from the very crimson change in her wardrobe. Her hands were shaking and she was sniffing pathetically as she continued making orders over the radio. The male to his small credit did notice her obvious discomfort. He dug in his pockets and pulled out a single napkin, then rather helplessly offered it to the woman muttering something about a "band aid on a bullet hole". She took it none the less and used it to wipe some of the mess off her face. All it succeeded in doing was creating a streak across her cheek. They were such painfully awkward creatures. Vegeta watched the scene with an agitated interested, how had no one destroyed them before?
Oh right, the bitch, she'd saved them. It frankly seemed like a wasted effort. The humans were just so… He couldn't really settle on the right word, but the point was he wanted to hurt them. They were all so infuriatingly insipid, flustered over stupid things. That was it at the core, he supposed. Saiyans reveled in pride, humans were creatures of greed. His people based their worth on what they could do, who they could beat, how strong they were. For humans power came from what they had, who had the most and how could everyone else get it. He hated this fucking backwards planet. Blowing it up would be an absolutely delight.
"Vegeta! Why did you do that? Why did you antagonize her?" There was a fear in his voice that just as frustrating as the humans. Kakarot was his only ally, and he couldn't get out of here if he was pathetically broken.
"Because I will not be cowed by a weak little woman," he hissed. The way he was pinned he couldn't get a good look at the younger man, it was probably better that way. He didn't want to see his longest running rival scared of the annoying, fragile bitch. He heard Kakarot draw in breath, preparing to speak, but he was cut off.
"Yes you will," the Namekian said in a calm, albeit bitter tone, "you're as fucked as the rest of us. That brave thing you're doing? Everyone else has already tried it, and everyone else already gave up. There's only one way out for people like us, and that's without a pulse." Vegeta opened his mouth to retort angrily, but the door opened back up and a group of well-armed humans filed in. He hated this fucking place.
Vegeta and Kakarot were rather unceremoniously dumped in to their room. The door shut and locked with a loud mechanical click and less than a minute later they were plunged into pitch blackness. When he was pinned down after the fight he'd been distracted enough to keep his mind off his wounds, but now the painful ache of bruises and a cracked rib were becoming all too real. Kakarot seemed to be crawling, trying to make his way to the bed as loudly as was physically possible. Or perhaps it was just a testament to how silent the room was when completely powered off. He heard a thunk and a grunt and knew the younger man had hit his head on the bed frame. He was about to snort about it when the other Saiyan promptly lost his shit. Loud swears echoed as the bedframe bolted to the ground had its limits tested by Kakarot shaking it with all the strength he had left.
For once he decided against making a shitty remark, difficult for him as that was. Derision and disdain were the languages that came naturally to Vegeta, so when that was not a viable option, shutting the fuck up was the best way to go. In the meantime he made his own limping way towards where his own bed should be, arms out in front of him searching the air for the frame. Once the cold metal was in hand he moved cautiously onto the uncomfortable cot, careful to avoid getting hit in Kakarot's blind tantrum. He could hear that it was losing steam now, rage-filled screams were morphing into quiet pained grunts, the bed rattling quieted until it stopped with a final squeak as the younger man dropped on his own bed.
"Why did you…?" He could barely make-out the breathy pleading question from Kakarot, but Vegeta did and he sighed. He opened his mouth, but found only dryness there, no words and after a moment he just shut it. For several long moments the only sound was Kakarot's heavy panting.
"It's not as bad as you think. We defended ourselves after being heavily provoked. She's a bitch but she's not stupid, she's not going to punish you, her best behaved pet, because I got mouthy with her." That was just about the best he could do in the way of being comforting, he honestly didn't put it past the woman to be petty enough to do something to Kakarot as well. It would certainly be something Frieza did. Still, despite her little show, she really didn't seem to delight in sending people off to be tortured or killed; she was just willing to do it. That last part was crucial to his future.
"But we were about to kill that guy," there was a waiver in his ally's voice and it gave Vegeta pause, "besides it's not like they don't invent reasons to punish people around here." The older man felt the frown he didn't know he was wearing deepen. He'd already witnessed that in the short amount of time he'd been here, supervisors trapping people into getting in trouble and shipping them off to MRD. Still, he wasn't aware of the top bitch herself being involved in that. That didn't seem to fit based on what he'd seen from her so far, but that didn't mean she was incapable of it.
"We'll deal with it as it comes; you've bought yourself a lot of good will, cash it in if you can." That was the truth; all that "doing the right thing" bullshit Kakarot was so fond of might have finally found a place where it was useful to him. It had always gotten him in trouble working under Frieza.
"What about you?" There was a brief moment of hesitation following the question before he resolved on the best answer he could offer other Saiyan.
"I'll deal with it as it comes," he repeated it like it was a mantra.
"We're not going to get out of here are we?" Kakarot asked, sounding so glum and hopeless. The rage was quick on the rise for Vegeta, but again he refrained from dishing out his usually bastardly retorts. Kakarot was his only ally now, and the man was strong when he wasn't so beaten down. If he gave up, then Vegeta was completely screwed. His chest felt heavy at finally admitting that to himself, they just couldn't afford to lose focus. So he took a deep breath and prepared the unique brand of positivity he could offer.
"Even if it kills me to do so, we're getting out, then we're going to blow up this fucking planet," he said firmly. That was comforting. Well, it was to Vegeta. Believing that eventually the only thing left of this horrible place would be memories, and that he would be the one to destroy it.
"What about Frieza?"
"He's next. We'll find a place to train, get strong and blow him up too." His fingers found their way to his temple to massage away the growing headache. Couldn't Kakarot just accept that and be satisfied? His patience, of which he had very little in the first place, was rapidly dwindling. Everything the young man was saying just reminded him of yet another obstacle that he had to cross, and it was making his chest uncomfortably tight.
"How?" At least he sounded more curious now than depressed, any small victory Vegeta would take, and that was enough for him to start speaking his own language once again.
"For fuck's sake, this isn't twenty-god-damned-questions. Right now we're worried about getting out of here, focus on that." He shouldn't have snapped, but to be fair, what did Kakarot expect from him? There was a very finite reservoir of tolerance he had, especially for unending questions.
"Sorry," with that word the two men fell to silence. Absent mindedly, he rubbed a thumb over the spot on his hand where the woman had injured him. That was the definition of humiliation, damaged by that thing. He had vastly underrated her, and that was a bitter pill for him to swallow. Such a pathetically weak little creature demanded so much control, respect, and fear from not just her prisoners, but also her fellow humans.
Begrudgingly he did have to admit she would be a worthy opponent, even if she had no physical strength to speak of. He imagined she paid someone to make a fist for her instead of raising her own. It burned to his core, his soul, that this woman had so much power at her finger tips. She turned great warriors into pathetic, broken shadows, and didn't even have to lift a single finger to do it. Meanwhile he, a prince born to rule a great people, had to claw, force, and demand every ounce of respect he received. It was as though some unseen force was mocking him. Well, he supposed one seen force was, no doubt Frieza and his men would find this whole scenario highly amusing.
He wasn't going to die like the Namekian was doomed to: bitter and broken. He'd have some amount of pride intact before he went down, if he went down. He'd seen cracks in the woman's façade during her little self-important tirade earlier. She'd slipped both figuratively and literally. He saw the way her body tensed when she almost fell. Ironically in her attempt to show no weakness she'd expressed it. She saw her brief fear of faltering. He smelled it like a fine perfume when she realized it was Frieza holding for her, he saw her hand shake when delivering the vulgar gesture. He'd even felt the pause when the Namekian expressed his desire for death, an uncertainty in her.
A smirk crossed his features when he pictured that shocked look on her face when he'd interrupted her. She'd been absolutely incredulous that someone had dared interrupt her. Her vanity was almost unfathomable, and unexpectedly a chuckle arouse from his chest. He was grateful when Kakarot remained silent instead of inquiring. He was fairly certain the young man was as lost in thought as he himself was. When the woman had him pinned with her shoe, he'd pictured killing her. He'd let her watch him destroy the world she worked so hard to protect, and then crack her skull underneath his boot. He was losing interest in that fast. How long would- no could he keep her alive? Could he destroy her planet and then make her use that impressive intellect for him? It did seem like the path to taking down Frieza in the long run. He suspected the woman was already preparing her own defense against him when he inevitably turned. Frieza was nothing if not a creature of habit, and he'd made one of turning on allies that threatened him. He doubted she would offer that up willingly, and strangely that was a pleasant thought. Bending that woman to his will seemed like an absolutely delightful challenge, and if it didn't work, he could at least enjoy the feeling of her head cracking beneath his shoe.
The screen went black and Bulma's knees got wobbly. The conversation had not gone well. Rumors about you and your company, is what Frieza had said. That meant even if he didn't know it all, he knew something. He was sending some of his best men, including but apparently not limited to his right hand known as Zarbon. She gripped the edge of her desk to regain her composure, and then slid her rear back so she was sitting atop it. Her heart was pounding away in her chest and her breathing had grown uncomfortable once again. This was bad, very bad. She nudged the bottom drawer open with her still bloody feet and made a mental note to schedule a pedicure in the morning. It almost toppled her, retrieving the bottle of expensive whisky before she shut the drawer with her heel. She uncapped and drank straight from the bottle. Oh if daddy could see her now.
"Ms. Briefs…?" Her assistant poked her head through the door, it was clear she'd made some attempt to clean herself up, unsuccessful as it may have been. She had a long, dry streak of blood on her cheek where it appears she tried to wipe it off.
"Yes, Miss Camari?" Bulma rested the bottle on her knee and cast a weary glance at the frightened looking woman.
"We're not all about to be, you know, blown up by Lord Frieza, are we?" Her voice was wobbling, and Bulma resisted the urge to scoff. It occurred to the blue haired boss that this could possibly be the worst day of her assistant's life so far. For most people flopping around in entrails and then fielding a call from a world decimating sociopath would certainly rank high on the shit day list. Granted this was a particularly shit day for Bulma too, she was going to have to figure out how to prevent Miss Camari's fear from coming to life.
"Not immediately and not if I have anything to say about it. He is sending some of his men in about a month to check up on us, so we'll just have to be as perfect as we always are. Which reminds me…" She trailed off as she hopped off her desk. She tilted her head back and took an absolutely impressive gulp of the hard liquor before she continued. It was time to get back to business; she had a world to keep spinning.
"Things are about to get extremely busy, I'll be updating quite a few projects in the morning, so start scheduling sometime with department heads for me. Further, I'll need to clear up all the free time I have available, so please cancel any appointments that aren't completely necessary over the next two months. Also move my pedicure up to tomorrow." She said this like it was understood that pedicures would always remain mandatory. Her assistant relaxed as Bulma regained herself, her control, and that was a pin of pride for the blunette's lapel. It showed just how much faith she inspired in her staff.
"Yes, Miss Briefs, does this extend to your lunch appointments?" The younger woman was dutifully scribbling notes with an overpriced pen on a cheap notepad. Her entire mood had shifted back to the pleasant aspiring business woman Miss Camari was. She was a good assistant, easily scared, eager to please, and determined to succeed.
"It absolutely does. In fact, when cancelling them, please tell him that I won't be requiring his services for the foreseeable future, also that I am aware he's been looking into other interested parties, and for all involved it's recommended he find his future with one of those." Miss Camari let out a soft laugh at Bulma's words, like a joke had just been told.
"We're talking about your lunch dates? With your boyfriend?" She gave Bulma a bright, innocent smile, but at the expression on the bosses face, Miss Camari sobered immediately and resumed writing things down as she muttered a hurried apology. Bulma tapped a finger on her chin at this. She couldn't afford distractions, not now, and Yamcha was always a distraction. The warm feelings had fizzled long enough ago that severing the ties weren't remotely painful, but she might as well put some Bulma flair onto it.
"Perhaps your right, maybe a little sentimentality is called for. We have been together for over a decade, and I did really enjoy at least two of those years." Bulma sounded contemplative as she took a seat behind her desk and powered up her computer. There was still work to be done, after all.
"After you call him and inform him that his position has been terminated, send him a gift basket with some scented candles, chocolates, and lots of really nice lotion, don't be afraid to splurge on it. I want the card to say: Go fuck yourself. Sincerely, Bulma." She was pulling up several documents on her computer when she paused again wearing a thoughtful expression. She held up a finger to gain her assistant's attention.
"No wait. Love, Bulma." Once Miss Camari had finished writing down all of her instructions, with the same single finger Bulma pointed at the door in dismissal. Yes there was much work to be done, but Bulma was prepared for it. She had a leak that needed plugging, either someone she trusted had betrayed her, or someone else had started putting the pieces together. She was ready for it in either case.
Starting with the updates she was now drafting, false information was going to be dispersed about each group's part in the project, when Frieza's dipshit brigade arrived, she'd be able to ferret out where the leak had come from by figuring out which plate of bullshit they'd been fed. In fact, there may have been one more avenue to fuck up Frieza's "fuck up Bulma" plan. She got up from her desk and poked her head out the door to see her assistant gathering her things, most likely about to head home and shower until there was no water left.
"Yes, Ms. Briefs?" The woman rose to peer at her boss curiously.
"Oh, Miss Camari, I almost forgot about the monkeys didn't I? Pencil in a half hour for the tall one tomorrow and at least an hour for the short one in my schedule, they can stay in lock down until then. I am going to be handling their discipline personally. Enjoy your day."
Earlier
Fifteen minutes, that's how long he'd been on hold. After the first five a squeaky, frightened human came on the screen and informed him that in another ten Ms. Briefs would be ready for him. If he were a less tolerant man, this would be infuriating, but Frieza considered his patience one of his best qualities. He had no problem waiting for the pay off. Besides, today was the beginning of a new era and his mood was ever so high. After the fifteenth minute passed his screen illuminated with the lovely visage of Ms. Bulma Briefs, looking as preposterously perfect as ever. She did seem to enjoy that, that illusion of control, and for now there was no reason to remove it from her.
"My lord," she greeted in her most formal, pleasant voice. He'd never personally heard one of her famous tantrums, by design he was certain, but it didn't take a psychic to see it bubbling just beneath the surface.
"It has been far too long, hasn't it, Bulma?" He couldn't deny himself a little smirk as his eyes locked with hers. She was one of the few that would hold his gaze.
"It has, I am always glad to hear from you," she replied in that same sickeningly pleasant tone. It was time to wipe that from her voice. He did so enjoy playing these verbal games.
"Hmm," he tapped his chin and then shook his head, "lying isn't a good look on you, you're far too pretty for that." Her eyes narrowed and he couldn't resist a self-indulgent chuckle.
"That's neither here nor there; of course, I fear that this isn't a social call," as he finished the door in the corner of the room opened. For that reason alone he broke eye contact with his prey, to investigate the intrusion. Zarbon stood in the door, and obedient as ever he quietly stood against the wall waiting. He was the only thing in the universe that might be prettier than Bulma, but so much better behaved.
"To what do I owe this pleasure then?" She didn't flinch when he re-fixed his eyes upon hers.
"Rumors are such an unpleasant thing, aren't they? Whispered un-pleasantries causing drama where there need be none. I absolutely abhor them. And yet… I frequently find that beneath all the nonsense lies a kernel of truth." He was setting a trap for her, and he didn't even care that she was watching him do it. There were, after all, several waiting for her she hadn't spotted yet.
"Rumors, my lord? You know I'd be happy to confirm or dispel any for you right now." She finally dropped the upbeat tone, good, he didn't like it when smart people pretended to be stupid.
"Unfortunately, my dear friend, that's the entire problem. You see these malicious little rumors are regarding you and your company. I know you'd never disappoint me. Still, I can't let these things go uninvestigated, so I'm sending some of my best men. Once your… good name has been cleared, I'll consider the matter closed." His tail was swishing back and forth, oh right, he hadn't told Zarbon he was taking a trip yet, had he?
"It's a pity to make some of your finest men travel all the way out here for nothing. I'll make sure to accommodate your men well; perhaps after a nice vacation here on Earth your best will be even better." She prattled on in her usual self-assured tone.
"My dear, I never take the security of my empire lightly, I certainly hope you don't either," he let his voice trail off and ended in his best smirk. However, his good humor was shot when the loathsome little twit opened her mouth.
"I would never, and I hope you'll forgive me for implying such a thing. I know that even when the rumors have no base, the breath of them can be dangerous. We wouldn't want to stir up any thoughts after all, especially given how insulting a threat would be coming from a species as weak as we humans." Her head was cocked to the side, and her rapidly retreating smile showed that she immediately regretted saying it. The sound of Zarbon chuckling in the corner earned the green haired man a glare. He promptly shut the fuck up. Frieza was about to make sure the Briefs woman did the same, so he shifted tone into a gossipy one.
"Can I confess something to you? Promise you won't be mad?" He watched her reaction carefully; her smile was back but diminished.
"I could never be mad at you, my lord," she sounded so cautious and concerned. Good. She'd remembered to fear him.
"The time before your father died, a few years ago, wasn't it? I was actually about to end our little arrangement. I was personally going to head over and blast your little mud ball to hell; I even had the day picked out and everything. Your fathers work was impressive, but he would never dream big enough, and I was rather bored with it all. Then he died, and you took over. I wasn't expecting much from the soft, pretty young daughter of Dr. Briefs but low and behold not only were you as capable as he was, but you succeeded where he failed. You were such a marked improvement and showed so much promise that I just thought to myself, let's wait and see what she's capable of, I could always just kill you all later." He left a long pause so she could fully absorb his meaning, she held his gaze for half a moment before her gaze dropped to her feet. Good girl.
"And I must say I am quite glad I didn't. As of now I still have so much use for you, and I do hope that trend continues for quite some time." His tail thrashed after the obvious threat, Briefs always thought she could win these little verbal battles, bothersome fool that she was. Her eyes returned to his and she looked considerably more serious than she had the entire conversation.
"My lord, I am known for three things: my beauty, my intelligence, and my ability to impress. I don't disappoint ever." Yes, little girl, try to save some face, it didn't matter anyway. She ticked off on her fingers each thing she was just so annoyingly proud of. Her massive ego was extremely reminiscent of another irritant, which reminded him…
"Not yet anyway. Oh, by the by, I have a silly question; I hope you'll indulge me. That last monkey I sent you, is he still alive?" He might as well throw his most loyal a bone for making him take the long trip out to the miserable planet.
"For now, though I'm currently deciding if he's going to stay that way," her response was clipped, annoyed. He couldn't resist a chuckle at that.
"Only a week and he's already making friends. I only ask because he and some of my men go way back, I'm certain you could arrange something special. I know Zarbon would just be delighted to see him again." He saw her resolve flicker at the mention of Zarbon's name and finally she realized the gravity of her situation.
"It would be my pleasure, Lord Frieza," she bowed her head respectfully.
"Oh I know it will be, my men will depart by tomorrow you can expect them within the month. Then this unpleasantness will be over. One way or another." He finished the thought darkly before disconnecting the call.
"You know, I thought our plants hadn't found anything about Briefs," Zarbon commented and Frieza couldn't resist a growing grin.
"They haven't, that woman is far too clever for that, but I don't particularly care anymore," he said flicking his wrist as if dismissing the notion.
"I know she's not stupid enough to not be preparing something and the threat she poses is fast out weighing her usefulness. You and some of my science department are going to head to Earth, get everything they're currently working on, gather a few of their most useful scientists, and then destroy the planet. Besides I have all my biggest irritants on the same planet locked in the same building, it's simply too good of an opportunity to miss." The simple truth, he had no proof the woman was planning something but he didn't need it. He knew a formidable foe when he saw one, and for all her physical weakness and obnoxious posturing, she was not a woman to underestimate.
"What about the Briefs woman?" Zarbon asked plainly. It was a good question, her specific genius and talents would be missed by the empire, but then at least there would be an empire to miss her. He doubted she could be broken and remain useful.
"She's too dangerous to be kept, kill her once you've got everything you need," he replied in a bored tone, before giving Zarbon his full attention with a smile.
"Oh pity, she's so pretty," the green haired man said in a flat, sarcastic tone.
"I'm fairly certain you'll get over that," Frieza replied flippantly.
"Indeed, I'll prepare and head out in the morning," Zarbon saluted and then bowed before leaving. Oh Frieza was going to miss all his shiny new toys from Earth, but he'd done extremely well without them before and he could certainly continue to do so now.