Becoming a Family
Chapter Six: A Formal Affair
Disclaimer: Premise and characters are the property of Akira Toriyama, I'm just borrowing them for a little non-profit fun.
"What the hell are you doing?" Vegeta demanded when Bulma shoved a thermometer in his ear at breakfast the next morning.
Chichi and Gohan stared at them in surprise.
"I'm taking your temperature so sit still," Bulma replied. "Since you wouldn't go to the infirmary, I'm bring it to you."
"Vegeta-sweetie are you feeling under the weather?" Bunny asked worriedly.
Dr. Briefs glanced up from his efforts to get Trunks to use utensils for something other than projectiles.
"I am not sick," Vegeta insisted.
"Because throwing-up is a sure sign of good health?" Bulma challenged.
Vegeta glared at her.
"The thermometer won't tell you anything useful," Chichi said.
To Vegeta's shock she pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. He jerked away from her.
"Goku and Gohan's normal temperature always felt like a fever to me," Chichi said to Bulma. "And you know how Goku was about doctors."
"How could you miss it?" Bulma asked. "I tried to have him get a shot once..." she trailed off into giggles.
"What did Kakarrot do?" Vegeta asked curiously.
"Well, lets just say that if Cell had really wanted to scare Goku he shouldn't have threatened to destroy the world, he should have found a white lab coat and a stethoscope and offered to give him a shot," Bulma said. "Goku hated needles."
Chichi looked wistful. "You should have seen him when I told him Gohan would have to get immunizations before we could enroll him in a public school. With the way he felt about shots there was no way he was going to let anyone inflict them on Gohan." She smiled sadly. "That almost ended that idea right there, but I convinced him to come to the interview and that we'd deal with whether or not Gohan really needed immunizations later. Goku was so adamant about it... well I was planning on taking Gohan myself and not saying anything. It really would have been for Gohan's own good."
"Actually if you haven't yet you might want to wait," Bulma commented. "I've been whipping up some for Trunks that take his half-Saiyan physiology into account."
"I haven't," Chichi said. "The interviewing board didn't react well when Goku instant transmissioned out in the middle. They said a few things and I might have... lost my temper and punched a hole through the desk." Chichi blushed.
"Mother!" Gohan exclaimed.
"Well to make a long story short we never made it to that bridge," Chichi finished. "But considering Goku's feelings about doctors, I've had to become fairly adept in the traditional methods to keep an eye on my boys' health."
"Could you take a look at Vegeta for me?" Bulma asked.
"Woman, I told you I'm not sick," Vegeta insisted.
"Pretty please, for me? Because I worry about you? And if you let Chichi check you out I'll be less tempted to do something like sneaking knock-out drops into your food so I can haul you off to the infirmary that way," Bulma plead in a sticky-sweet voice.
"Bulma! You will not ambush Vegeta in this house," Bunny exclaimed. "It's his home, he should feel safe here."
Vegeta shot Bulma a superior smirk behind her mother's back.
"Yes, your mother's quite right," Dr. Briefs agreed. "However, I don't think there'd be a problem if you rigged the air system in the Gravity Room, after all, Vegeta did request that the room be programmed to attack him."
Bulma stuck her tongue out at Vegeta then her expression turned serious. "I just want to know that you're okay," she said.
Vegeta scowled and crossed his arms over his chest but he stopped leaning away from Chichi. Bulma nodded to her to let her know that was a consent.
Chichi briskly replaced her hand on Vegeta's forehead. "No fever," she declared then felt his throat. "Would you relax? For goodness sakes, no one is trying to hurt you."
Bulma gritted her teeth when she noticed look of incomprehension in Vegeta's eyes. "What do mean relax?" she asked, knowing that Vegeta wouldn't.
"He needs to lower his ki," Chichi explained. "I'm trying to check for swollen lymph nodes but he's got his ki so high that his skin has about as much give to it as a rock."
"Fine," Vegeta snapped and marginally lowered his defenses.
Chichi rolled her eyes. "Gohan would you please demonstrate what I mean."
"Sure Mom." He turned to Vegeta. "You can't hold yourself ready for an attack while she's doing that. This is what she wants." Gohan pulled his ki in until it wasn't doing anything to increase the durability of his body.
"This is stupid," Vegeta declared.
"Please!" Bulma asked.
"Hn."
"Thank you," Chichi said sardonically. After several more test she declared, "He's fine."
"I told you," Vegeta said smugly but Bulma only looked more troubled.
"I still think you should come down to the infirmary so I can run some tests."
"No."
"But-"
"No."
They glared at each other for the space of a few breaths. "Okay, I'll let it drop- for the moment," Bulma conceded.
For several minutes everyone went back to their meals.
"Someone should represent Capsule Corps at the benefit tonight," Dr Briefs commented.
"Oh no! Don't look at me," Bulma protested. She shook her head and held up her hands in refusal.
"Bulma-chan, it's for a hospital and your surgical nano-bots are our most recent contribution to the medical field," her father argued.
"So you're gonna make me suffer for it?" Bulma sniped.
Bunny shot a sly glance toward Vegeta. "You just don't like being hit on," Bunny laughed.
"Not by gold-digging bastards," Bulma grumbled. "And it always ends up on the front page of some miserable rag."
"Oh yes, that's why you used to make Yamcha attend them with you even though the poor dear found them to be horribly stuffy." Bunny sneaked another look at Vegeta. "You could always take Vegeta as your date; I'm sure all the other gentlemen would get the idea then."
A small, distinctly evil smile tugged at Vegeta's lips as he considered options for dealing with anyone who didn't get the message that the woman belonged to him.
"Mother!" Bulma protested. She glanced nervously at Vegeta, her thoughts were running parallel to his but she didn't find them nearly as pleasurable. "I don't think Vegeta would want to come," she said.
"Because the scar-faced moron disliked them?" Vegeta asked, amusement underlying his voice. "I can entertain myself."
"And that's what scares me," Bulma shot back.
"Ah... I promise I won't do any permanent damage," Vegeta offered, still smiling evilly.
"Very funny Vegeta."
"I'm sure it will be," Vegeta replied.
"Then you'll both go," Bunny concluded cheerfully.
"Oh damn. Not him," Bulma swore as she and Vegeta entered the banquet hall.
"What's that buffoon doing?" Vegeta wondered.
"Calling the paparazzi down on us," Bulma said. "You remember what he was like before the Cell Games?" She gestured to where Hercule Satan was holding court for the press. A small girl in a lacy dress with a dark scowl on her face stood beside Hercule, looking like she'd rather be anywhere else. "He's worse now," Bulma said as Hercule picked up his daughter and posed for the cameras while he held her aloft with just one hand.
"Well, at least he's decent at holding the attention he draws," Bulma sighed.
"The only thing he's good at is making noise," Vegeta said in disgust. "So what do we do?"
"We sit, we eat, human proportions by the way, we listen to speeches, we mingle and we get seen," Bulma said. "I told you it would be deadly dull."
The night progressed as promised and Bulma was surprised to find Vegeta didn't show any overt signs of impatience, discomfort or boredom even after the speeches stretched into the second hour. When ever she'd brought Yamcha to similar events he ended up fussing over the discomfort of wearing a suit long before they arrived and pestering her about how much longer it was going to last within fifteen minutes of arriving.
Vegeta let the atmosphere of the formal banquet wash over him. It teased at his memory, which was a novel sensation given his memory's recent practice of violently usurping control of his mind. He closed his eyes and focused on the sounds of muted conversation and the light clinking of cutlery. His memory supplied a woman's warm laugh and a flash of sun reddened hair that was so rare among Saiyans.
"Be still little one, it won't last too much longer."
"All they do is talk, Mother."
"This too is a battle you'll need to fight someday, my Vegeta. You should pay attention to how it's done."
"Yes Mother," the tiny boy sighed. "It takes longer than the fighting Nappa teaches."
She laughed softly. "But it can be just as important for survival and success. See that one, there?" She indicated who she meant with a flick of her eyes. "He believes life owes him more than he has received."
"So?"
"So he is your uncle and has spent his whole life positioning himself for a coup against your father. And if he should ever manage that the first thing he would do, my little Prince, would be to kill you. You are the one your father has chosen as his successor, that would make you a rallying point for your father's supporters. But we know him, by watching him tonight and in similar settings your father gathers hints as to who would support a coup."
Vegeta cuddled closer to his mother's side. "Him?" he asked picking out another member of the Saiyan royal court. His mother smiled and began explaining that one's position, ambitions and uses. As the banquet wore on, Nappa, who was standing guard behind them took to adding a few comments about individual's fighting skills.
Vegeta sensed a sudden tension in his mother's frame several seconds before the attack came. Then he was being lifted up and tossed behind Nappa's considerable bulk while his bodyguard blasted a projectile out of the air. His mother shrugged off Nappa's attempt to get her behind him as well and stood firm with two unsheathed knives in her hands. "Come, be civil about this," she called. "We are at a formal affair, let's make a proper duel of it."
"Milady would you-" Nappa began.
"Your job is to protect my son, not me," she reminded the hulking warrior tartly. "I think it's time I provided the court with a reminder of who I am." Vegeta's mother glanced toward the King's other concubines. "Call your champion out, lest he look like a coward who can only strike from the shadows."
"It seems Lady Nanban has decided to provide us with the evening's entertainment," the king commented "As always there will be no reprisal for a duel, regardless of out come."
After a small pause the would-be assassin joined the crown prince's mother in the center of the room. To Vegeta's eyes the assassin was a giant. His mother's slight frame made her look insignificant in comparison but her knives were steady. "So what's your complaint?" she asked
"You're a witch who has seduced our king," the assassin declared. "You're not even a true Saiyan."
Nanban rolled her eyes. "That tired old rumor? The one about one of my ancestors, no one can say which one, wasn't Saiyan-jin? That's all you can come up with? If that were actually true wouldn't it just make it worse that my son is so superior to all the other Palace brats?"
"More proof of your trickery," the assassin roared.
Vegeta watched with wonder as his mother's speed and grace made the huge assassin look like a shambling lumox. Her knives took small bits of him as she danced away from his powerful blows and then she stepped into him. He caught one of her wrists in a crushing grasp, but her free knife found it's target in the gap beneath his armored chest plate.
"Is that little thing supposed to hurt me?" the assassin laughed.
Nanban grinned fiercely and everyone in the room heard a muted explosion from the assassin's torso then he crumpled to the ground. Smoke rose from his wound rather than blood.
"She channeled her ki through the blade to get under his armor," Nappa told Vegeta approvingly. "Your mother is a sneaky one."
Vegeta nodded, his eyes shining with awe as he watched her clean her blades on her fallen foe's clothes.
The king applauded. "A brilliant display as always my dear," he said.
"Thank you my lord," She replied as she sheathed her blades with a flourish. Nanban took her son back from Nappa and settled him on her lap. Vegeta reached up to touch the blood that was spattered across her cheeks like freckles.
Bulma noticed that Vegeta's eyes were distant but the emptiness that she was learning to dread wasn't present. "What are you thinking about?" she asked.
"The last formal banquet I attended." Vegeta replied. "It was a few months before Frieza took me. My mother killed an assassin before dessert was served."
"Hopefully this one won't be that exciting," Bulma said.
"A pity," Vegeta replied.
"Oh you!" Bulma huffed. "Behave. I'm going to go mingle a bit. Then we'll be free to get the hell out of here."
Vegeta followed Bulma as she worked her way through the crowd.
"-The project is going very well, thank you. I'll be making a formal announcement in a few weeks.-"
"-How is your family?-"
"Vegeta, Elenore. Elenore, Vegeta. We went to school together."
"Do you think I care?"
"Still in your bad boy phase Bulma? I thought you got over that after Yamcha."
"Moving on," Bulma said as she steered Vegeta away from her old classmate. "You could try being polite Vegeta."
"Why would I do that?"
"I don't know, novelties' sake?"
Vegeta gave a soft snort of amusement. "Maybe, someday. Which of Kakarrot's friends is most likely to drop dead if shocked?"
As soon as they stepped outside the paparazzi descended. "Brief-san! Briefs-san!"
"Ugh, tabloids," Bulma groaned
"Is he your baby's father?"
"Have you set a date?"
"Aren't you missing out on Mr. Satan posing?" Bulma asked irritably.
"Brief-san, is there something you're hiding? Why the mystery about your escort?"
Bulma paled, she was almost certain that there was no surviving footage of Vegeta's original visit to the planet, but the reaction if that got out worried her.
"Your mother wanted me to come to see that no one harassed you," Vegeta said. He smiled and to the reporters it looked like a baring of fangs. "I'll catch up later."
Bulma glanced at the tabloid reporters then at Vegeta. "Have fun but don't kill anyone."
As Bulma walked away one of the reporters went to follow her. Vegeta caught him be the collar and dragged him back. "She said no killing. I don't mind, there's no pain after you're dead."
They were in public. They were in a pack. The World's Champ, defeater of Cell was near by and he liked them, even Vegeta's aura of menace couldn't intimidate them here.
"What's your relationship with Bulma Briefs?"
"Where are you from?"
"What are you hiding?"
"What's your last name?"
Vegeta scowled darkly as camera bulbs flashed in his face and suicidally stupid humans jostled each other for the opportunity to annoy him. "I find your kind sulking around Capsule Corp. You invade my privacy and act as if you're entitled to answers for every inane question that spills out of your mouth. You print slanderous things that upset the woman... There is a precedent among your people of mounting the heads of offenders on pikes to discourage others of their ilk," Vegeta smiled as if enjoying the idea of collecting a few heads. "The woman says it would attract flies. She thinks I should take part in your rituals but when I find one that seems useful she protests. Women." As he spoke Vegeta pushed his battle aura over them and the things that had bolstered their courage before were no less true but they were much less reassuring.
Vegeta sharply spiked his ki and dozens of cameras and recording devices exploded around him. Even though none of the reporters could explain it they all knew it was Vegeta's doing and the suddenness of the explosions coming on top of the promise of death Vegeta projected was enough to send them scurrying for cover. Vegeta watched them in amusement then he noticed the little girl they'd seen with Hercule earlier. There was a look of satisfaction on her face as Vegeta terrorized the tabloid reporters and she was taking notes.
Vegeta sensed Bulma's ki spike in anger and forgot the girl.
Bulma had been moving away from the reporters who'd swarmed around her and Vegeta as they left the sanctuary of the banquet hall looking for a place to de-capsulize her car when she ran across one of Hercule Satan's impromptu press conferences.
Hercule noticed her and exclaimed "Hey, give me some space," to the reporters. "I'll be back later for more pictures."
Obligingly the reporters made a show of retreating while Mr. Satan walked up to Bulma. "You're Bulma Briefs ain't you?"
Bulma stared at him frostily.
Hercule grinned confidently. "I hear you like fighters. So I was thinking maybe you'd like to hook up with the best. I mean I'm the World's Champ and you're quite a babe for a science nerd."
Bulma glared at him in outrage. "Son Goku was a close friend of mine," she hissed.
"Who?" Hercule asked and Bulma realized that the imbecile had talked himself into believing his own press.
When Vegeta appeared beside her Bulma smiled and wrapped an arm around his waist. "Sorry Satan, I'm only impressed by the real thing. Not by lying frauds with puffed up opinions of themselves. You didn't beat Cell."
Hercule's face turned pasty at the realization that this woman somehow knew the truth. Then Hercule took a closer look at Vegeta and recognized him as one of the fighters from the Cell Games. The champ's eyes bugged out and his jaw dropped. "Y-yo-you're-" he stammered.
Vegeta sneered at him and pulled Bulma closer possessively.
"Come on Vegeta, let's go home," Bulma said. "The hot air around here is starting to bother me."
The two of them walked away leaving Hercule speechless in their wake.
Author's Notes: Nanban translates to red pepper. I got the idea for her appearance from the coloring mistake in the anime where Vegeta has reddish hair in his first appearance. So in this story instead of being a mistake, it's an effect lots of time in the sun. Once he gets to Earth Vegeta spends the majority of his in the GR rather than killing off populations on various alien worlds so he doesn't get enough sun to make the red come to the surface. As for the rumor, I just meant it as people coming up with something, anything in an attempt to discredit Nanban and her son since Vegeta's in line to inherit the throne and are is the primary targets for all other contenders.
In my stories rather than having the kingship inherited by the oldest child on Vegeta-sai I've been having it be somewhat merit based but with the assumption that since one of Vegeta's ancestors became a Super Saiyan that his blood line is more likely than any other to produce another Super Saiyan. (Which would make Brolly a huge threat to the ruling family and explain why King Vegeta wanted him killed. If another bloodline produced a Super Saiyan, with a rulership that was already partially merit based it wouldn't be a very big step to decide that Brolly should be the next king rather than Vegeta).