Language Barrier

by scoutergreen

Chapter 6

Desperate Measures


Vegeta scanned through the channels, desperate to land on a channel he could miraculously understand. With Krillin watching, half fascinated and half horrified, the Saiyan slowly ate his cherry pie and ice cream and flicked from program to program.

After twenty minutes, Yamcha's curiosity got the better of him and he returned downstairs, stopping in the kitchen to fetch a drink from the refrigerator and pull a bag of potato chips out of the pantry. He took a chair near Krillin, aiming to remain as far away from the Saiyan as possible, and he watched with fascination as Vegeta watched an infomercial for a juicer with a somewhat detached expression in his eyes. Then, he flicked to a Bollywood film and his face brightened. He sat through a long musical sequence and Krillin spotted the Saiyan jiggling his foot to the beat, and it took all of the monk's mental strength to keep from laughing.

"It's in Hindi..." Krillin looked to Yamcha and raised a brow, "maybe Vegeta understands it? He seems to like the music..."

"In that case, I know somebody on the baseball team who could speak with him..." whispered Yamcha, still watching Vegeta's expression. The Saiyan's face had darkened again, and Yamcha gently shook his head, "...but I don't think he really understands, Krillin..."

Vegeta changed the channel. A French-Canadian variety show. Vegeta's nose wrinkled and he laughed when a male guest started speaking. "What the hell is this?! It sounds even more bizarre than that language Bulma and the others typically speak!" Again, he changed the channel and landed on a German language news broadcast. Vegeta grew still and watched the two broadcasters recite the news with stoic expressions on their faces.

After five minutes of Vegeta intently watching the news in German, Yamcha looked over at Krillin, his face wary. "Maybe we'll have a German-speaking alien around now..."

And then Vegeta changed the channel again, landing on a karaoke program. He cringed at the sound of a shrill woman's voice attempting an extremely high note and turned the television off. His bowl empty, Vegeta set it on the coffee table, rose from his seat, and slowly made his way to Bulma's lab.

After their outing in the afternoon, Bulma had expressed that she needed to complete some work, which Vegeta understood as a request she wished be left alone for a while. Bulma's need for a bit of space throughout the day was one of the reasons he liked her in the first place, and Vegeta was more than happy to give her the privacy she requested.

"Buhl-mah..." he silently entered the lab and waited until he was only a few steps away before speaking, "a're-de sko'ruj andane kara-ka? Meej'dho as'kaj mere'o eskadare'da-ka de me e'de. Mara'dane de s'ke!"

Do you still wish to be alone? The simulator's stopped working and I have nothing else do do. Entertain me!

"Hi, Vegeta," Bulma leaned back in her seat and looked away from her computer, "are you lonely, hmm?" She rose and embraced him, and once Vegeta made certain there was nobody else around, he nuzzled her right shoulder and neck.

"C'mon," she kissed his forehead, "I wanna go upstairs with you..."

"De-eeee?" Vegeta nipped the crook of her neck and grinned when Bulma gasped.

"Vegeta..." Bulma undid the top button to her jeans and guided Vegeta's right hand down her stomach and let him take over once his fingers pulled away the waistband of her underwear and went even lower. A smile grew on his face when he felt the beginnings of her arousal and he looked at Bulma, his eyes glimmering mischievously. Bulma tilted her head up, suggesting they go upstairs. Vegeta's grin only grew larger.


Fan turned high and windows open, Bulma lay with her head resting on Vegeta's bare chest and a sheet covering half her sweat-drenched backside. Her partner was still recovering from his final orgasm of the evening and he absentmindedly massaged the back of Bulma's neck with his left hand.

"Mmm, Vegeta..." sighed Bulma, thoroughly content. When Vegeta was in the right mood, he was a very generous and affectionate lover, and despite the obvious issues in communication he'd been very attentive that particular evening.

"Mmm..." Vegeta nodded and smirked.

After a few more minutes, Bulma rolled over and pulled a hair elastic from a container on her nightstand. She pulled her hair into a messy bun and settled back down, body cooled down enough that she pulled the sheet up to her hips.

Vegeta went into her washroom, presumably to rinse off, and returned five minutes later with damp skin and dressed in his running shorts. He returned to the bed but sat on the edge of the mattress. Only rarely did he spend the entire night in Bulma's room.

"Buhl-mah. Kakarot kaa'le de. Es'ke de mejdhaa moru'gu raj'karaa da. He'j de Kakarot mende ede!"

Bulma. Call Kakarot. I'm starting to wonder if he's been chipped too. Kakarot will be useful for a change!

"Okay, Vegeta..." Bulma retrieved her sketchpad, a pencil, and passed both to her partner, "can you show me?"

The Saiyan rolled his eyes but obeyed. "Kakarot," Vegeta hastily drew a remarkably detailed portrait of his rival, "moru'gu raj," he tilted his head at Bulma and then sketched out a picture of Bulma's phone.

Get Kakarot quickly.

"Aaah," Bulma nodded, "I see, Vegeta," she took the sketchpad back and drew figure of a man in a bed and added a wild mess of hair, "Kakarot is sleeping," Bulma pointed to the sleeping figures, "until morning. Look," she pulled the alarm clock off her nightstand and pointed to the hour, "it's night, and Kakarot will sleep until here," she pointed to the 5 on the clock's face.

I think she's saying we have to wait a few hours for Kakarot. There's a big surprise! But I'll just sleep until the idiot can come through for me, at least that will kill a few hours... there's no use in trying to argue when I'm stuck in this predicament.

"Hmm," Vegeta gave her a firm nod signalling he understood. He stretched and yawned, scratched the back of his neck, rose from the bed and promptly went to his own bedroom.

Bulma chuckled, turned off the lamp on her nightstand, and shifted towards the centre of her bed. "Good night, Vegeta..."


At quarter to six, Vegeta woke up naturally and immediately recalled his intention to contact Kakarot to see if there was a way they could communicate. He rinsed his face, brushed his teeth, hastily pulled on a pair of blue jeans and a grey polo, and went across the hall and knocked on Bulma's door.

Silence.

He knocked again, much louder this time.

A muffled groan. The sound of shifting blankets.

"Buhl-mah!" Vegeta slapped her door and growled, growing very annoyed. An hour had already passed since Kakarot had risen for the day, why was she still asleep? How dare she waste so much valuable time! What if Kakarot decided to take off on one of his side trips as he was so prone to doing?

He went inside and found Bulma sitting on the edge of her bed, eyes bleary and hair a tangled mess. "Hmm?" She rubbed her eyes and looked at Vegeta, "okay, I'm getting up, big guy..." she rose from her bed and shuffled into her washroom, yawning loudly. With a slow sigh, Vegeta took a seat at her desk and waited for the woman to finish getting ready.

Thirty five minutes later, Bulma was showered, dressed, and ready to take Vegeta on a trip to the Son house. She placed a call to the Son house and the phone was answered by Chi-Chi, who very reluctantly agreed to allow the two to come over after forcing Bulma to repeat her story three times. The entire time Bulma got ready, Vegeta alternated between stoically sitting at the engineer's desk and pacing the room.

"You're really rarin' to go, aren't you, Vegeta? Well, come on," Bulma threw her tablet and a notebook into her purse and fetched her car keys off the desk, "it's a bit of a drive, so we'll make a stop for food and a bathroom break along the way. Oh, you don't know what I'm saying... let's go!"

Their first stop was for coffee and a some light breakfast items; pastries, fruit, cartons of orange juice and, at Vegeta's insistence, a quart of chocolate milk. With caffeine to keep them alert and some food to stave off the Saiyan's seemingly constant hunger, they set off down the highway en-route to the Son household. During the two hour drive, neither occupant of the vehicle spoke to each other. Vegeta dozed after finishing his mostly liquid breakfast and Bulma managed to listen to the radio at a fairly low volume without any sign of protest from the Saiyan.

When they arrived at the Son household, Goku was waiting out in front next to a stone-faced Chi-Chi, who coolly looked over Vegeta and scowled with disapproval when Gohan went to greet the prince. Vegeta gave Gohan a nod, ignored Chi-Chi entirely, and immediately approached Goku.

"Me'de ar ske de arjo-du, Kakarot. Mendhaj kara-ko raj'karaa mone de as'ke mara-na, ieh ne? Eshe shen'goro'm de ka-te se err-te."

It's important we converse, Kakarot. This is an act of desperation for me to come here, get it? Surely you were chipped before coming to Earth.

Goku tilted his head, blinked several times, and shrugged before cheerfully replying: "sorry Vegeta, but I didn't catch a word of that! Was that the Saiyan native language? It sounds so neat!"

Well, shit. So much for the hope that Kakarot would be of help. Face it, Vegeta, you're totally on your own now. Good thing the woman is patient, at least most of the time... you'll be playing charades and drawing stupid little pictures for the rest of your miserable, isolated days on this pathetic planet.

Utterly defeated, Vegeta leaned against the side of Bulma's car and slowly sank down until he sat on the ground with his knees pressed to his chest.

"Not so good, huh?" Goku took a seat beside Vegeta and clapped the Saiyan prince on the shoulder. Vegeta let out a half-growl that dissolved into a long sigh.

"You can't possibly understand, Kakarot. I'm all alone! I am the last living speaker of the Saiyan tongue, and there is no way for me to communicate in any other way now! I am trapped by my own near-extinct mother tongue, desperate for any way to break through this barrier! What kind of punishment is this I endure, Kakarot? Why me?!"

Bewildered by the scene before her, Chi-Chi looked to Bulma and shook her head in disbelief. "Guess you weren't joking about your buddy here. Poor guy, even if he isn't so nice it must be really tough to not understand anybody around you... and such a long drive, too! Do you think Vegeta would like to stay for some lunch?"

Nodding, Bulma knelt beside Vegeta and prepared to try another round of communicating with her guest. "I'm sure he'll be more than happy to try some of your home cooking, Chi-Chi. Who knows? It might even make him feel a bit better, he's obviously really upset right now."

It only took forty seconds for Vegeta to determine that he and Bulma had been invited to lunch. Kakarot's wife would be cooking, and the Saiyan prince nonchalantly accepted the offer, stomach rumbling and genuinely curious to try the sort of food his rival ate on a regular basis. If nothing else, the meal would allow Vegeta to further study his rival without the expectation that he would participate in conversation with anybody else at the table.

Vegeta rose to his feet and gave Chi-Chi a slow, gracious nod before that smile of his started to spread across his face and his eyes narrowed and glimmered."I accept your invitation to a meal, wife of Kakarot. I only hope you can impress the Prince of all Saiyans with your culinary prowess!"

"What did he say, Bulma?" Chi-Chi eyed Bulma warily and wondered if she wanted to know what the alien had just said to her.

Bulma swallowed, a little nervous for the meal to come. "Let's not ask him to elaborate..."

To Be Continued