…Frieza watched, petrified, as his brother slowly descended down the mountain on an invisible cloud of his own Ki. Cooler kept his arms crossed, with his fingers drumming on his biceps; his eyes never left their gaze into Frieza's own eyes, which were wide with fear. It felt like an hour to Frieza as he watched his older brother slowly make his approach, and eventually Cooler came to a stop right in front of his younger brother. The tip of Cooler's tail wormed around as he stared into his brother as though he had never seen his Third Form before (which he had, of course), or Frieza though perhaps he was just surprised at all the blood shed on his face and hands.

"My, my, brother…" Cooler finally spoke, shaking his head, "I've always known you to have a particularly bad temper, but I've never seen it quite this bad… Tell me, what got into you?"

At first, Frieza just stared down his own snout at his now smaller brother; in time, he found the words to say, "Well... brother… I found the attitudes for those particular warriors not to my liking…"

"So you rip them to shreds just for their attitudes?" Cooler tilted his head in curiosity. "If I remember correctly, they were not disrespectful to you, now were they?"

Frieza turned his long-cranium head to look nervously off to the side… "…N-no, they were not, brother…" He looked back at Cooler and defended sternly, "But they were to my right hand man!"

Cooler turned up his lip and shrugged, "So? So what if they were rude to your right hand man? What is he worth?"

Frieza didn't answer.

Cooler continued, "Why, my own henchmen are great to have around and everything, but honestly, what do I care what others think of them? What matters is what I think of them, and if I find them to be up to my personal standards, then that's fine…"

"And I agree with that!" Frieza suddenly burst defensively. Cooler stared at him.

"I know that, Frieza. But what I have to make a point on here is that my henchmen are my protectors: it's not the other way around, brother. My henchmen know to take care of themselves as well as myself."

"I understand that." Frieza said.

"You say you do, but here's what you have confused me on, Frieza: why did you tear up those choice soldiers just because they were rude to your right hand man?"

Frieza froze again; he could feel a lump in his throat, his mouth was dry and he began to sweat a little.

"Er, well… Mmm…" Frieza could feel his eyes lowering to his older brother's feet. "My henchmen are… important to me!"

"Like how?"

"For instance, if their spirits are crushed… they may falter in their services to me." Frieza quickly made up something.

"But my henchmen have had their spirits crushed many times over," Cooler countered, "And they've never had any trouble looking after my well being. Why are yours any different?"

Frieza took a step back, "Because…mine are young… and foolish. Yes, foolish; and they are simply not prepared to handle such pressing situations right now…"

Frieza felt like punching himself. What a stupid excuse! But it was all he could come up with. He watched the expression on his older brother's face change from confusion to humor, which angered Frieza.

Cooler came closer to his brother's large form, grinning. "Frieza, if your present henchmen are that weak, why not kill them and get better ones which you will not have to fight for?"

And it was then that Frieza decided he didn't have to listen any of this anymore. He looked his brother right in the eye and declared "…Cooler, I am not going to kill my henchmen, and certainly not when Papa is coming in less then one day; if I do, Papa will think of me as reckless with my men… like you are!" He added with distain and a wrinkled snout.

Cooler let his arms fall to his sides and looked at Frieza with complete disbelief. "WHAT?! You're calling ME reckless?! You're the one who just went completely Godzilla on those five unfortunate men of yours!"

"Ok! You know what?!" Frieza's great, fang-filled muzzle barked as he jabbed a finger at his brother's chest. "You are ALWAYS doing this to me! You are always trying to point out stupid little insignificant things that I do differently then you, and you bring them up in my face!"

"OH COME ON! It's called 'Sibling Rivalry'! And if you were not so much of a whiny little HATCHLING about it, FRIEZA, you would stand to actually LEARN something from me!"

"And why the HELL would I want to waste any of my time trying to 'learn' anything from the likes of YOU?!" Frieza roared.

"Because I'm your older brother and I KNOW MORE THEN YOU! So there!" Cooler turned his body sideways, crossed up his arms tightly and stuck out his tongue.

Frieza gritted his pearly teeth and balled his hands into fists; it tormented him that he was never allowed to hit his older brother (no matter how annoying he was) for fear of his Father's chastisement, and yet his brother Cooler was not only allowed to bicker at every little thing he did, but was allowed to strike Frieza as well. Frieza pursed his black lips tightly together, blew hot air from his flared nostrils and stomped passed Cooler towards his own ship. Just as he was heading off, Frieza could hear Cooler shouting to him, "Don't expect me to clean up this mess!", to which Frieza held up his middle finger.

Left all alone, Cooler rested his knuckles on his hips and let out a hefty sighed; as he pondered his young brother's strange actions, he allowed his eyes to rest upon the bloody massacre painted over the large area, while dark storm clouds gathered in the distance…

Meanwhile, oblivious to the intense argument between the two powerful aliens, Zarbon sat alone in a bed within an empty waiting room contained by the Medical Wing of Frieza's ship. The big gash on his hip had been stitched up and a wide bandage was wrapped around his waist to seal it. Zarbon sat silently with his chin resting in his hand elbow resting in his other hand with the bed covers over his legs and his back resting against a bunch of pillows. Two things bothered him: one was the itchy stitches in his side, and the other was the reaction from his Master.

Never in his life had Zarbon ever witnessed it: Frieza fighting for someone other then himself! To him and the other warriors, it was simply unheard of, an impossible fantasy! But it came true, not just in the eyes of Zarbon himself, but in those of Dodoria, Kiwi, and about twelve other bystanders (who were now probably going to have bed-wetting problems for the next two weeks after seeing their Sovereign transform into the blood-thirsty space creature they saw). But aside from the laughs, Zarbon was deeply worried: he appreciated most definitely what his Lord Frieza did for him, but would Frieza be expecting some kind of payback for his troubles?

Zarbon was beginning to feel restless, so he sat up, threw the covers off himself, and moved to the side of his bed, allowing his legs to hang off the side; he rested both elbows on his knees and hunched over in thought as he racked his brain on what he should do. He could hear the sound of the heavy rains hitting the roof and single glass window of the small, dark room; Zarbon raised his tired head an inch to gaze at his own shadow set against the plain wall in front of him.

Just then, he heard the door to his room open on the opposite end of the room behind him; for a moment his shadow was killed in the few seconds of exposed light from the outside world, but was instantly cut off as soon as the door was shut tightly once more. As Zarbon listened to the footsteps that approached his bed, he didn't bother turning around. He kept his bare back to the soul that came closer: It's probably the nurse with more medications… that crazy wench thinks I'm going to die from this little scratch on my hip…

Zarbon sighed slightly as he spoke out loud, though softly, "Look, woman, I told you: I will be fine. I do not need anymore of your pointless medications for this little nick."

"I understand… but we all need medications for the things we can't see, Zarbon…"

Zarbon's heart skipped a beat. A tiny gasp just managed to escape his mouth and his eyes became as wide as lollypops. But he didn't turn around to look… there was no point in him dong so. There was no mistaking that icy, feminine voice…

There was the sound of another (much smaller) body coming upon the bed right behind him, and Zarbon felt two cold hands reach up and begin to massage his bare, goose bump-covered shoulders. Zarbon sat still and inwardly, with his arms folded closed to his bare chest and his eyes looking to the floor while the loose strands of his long hair fell around his head to conceal his anxious expression. Soon, Zarbon felt his Master's hands creep down his back and arms, taking in his tight muscles. Then they tenderly explored his sensitive ribcage area and gripped at his waist; Zarbon gulped quietly as the strong, cool-scaled arms of his Lord wrapped around him tightly and he was brought into a rather warm embrace.

"My poor boy…" Frieza spoke in his "mother-to-baby" tone again, "It must have hurt real, real bad when you ran into that mean ol' post, didn't it?"

Zarbon didn't have a clue how to respond to this, so he just timidly nodded his head. He felt Frieza rest his own head against his back. He whispered, "Does Zarbon want Mama to make it all better?"

Zarbon tensed up; it felt so unnatural for his Master to call himself his mother, but none-of-the-less he nodded again… what was the point of disagreeing? Immediately, Zarbon felt the cool, creeping hands of his Master gently pick him up underneath and rest him at the top corner of the bed with his head resting upon the pillows. Then Frieza lay down right beside him with his own head near the edge (so that his sharp horn would not go through the bed) and covered them both with the blankets… Zarbon looked over and gazed into the eyes of the creature that ruled his every breath of life…

What he saw was something very different… as his own golden eyes stared into the two, big rubies that were Frieza's, the young man didn't see the same brutal tyrant he always recognized… instead, he saw a creature who's eyes were filled with the longing to care for something other then himself… something which Zarbon could not put his finger on… Was it just pleasure his Master wanted from him? Or was it something much more… something unimaginable to which no other being in the universe (including himself) knows about…

But when Zarbon dared to give his Lord Frieza a faint little smile, Frieza's eyes reverted back to the same blood-thirsty, wolfish jewels that everyone knew and feared. His glossy black lips curled into that devilish smile which (Zarbon secretly admitted) made his Master so attractive and so sexually alluring…

Frieza lifted a hand and began stroking his black claws through Zarbon's long, gorgeous hair for an endless time, while the calm sounds of the rainstorms outside prevailed in the dark locked room; the previous medications the paranoid nurse had given to Zarbon were beginning to knock him out, but Zarbon didn't care: Frieza's gentle fingers playing in his hair was like a silent lullaby to him, and soon enough his eyelids became too heavy for him. But Frieza remained awake; aided by his natural gift of night vision, the alien ruler was free to stare into Zarbon's youthful beauty for as long as the suns were hidden.

When he was convinced that Zarbon was out cold, Frieza cupped both his hands around his young Servant's delicate face: he could feel himself becoming aroused by the handsome intricacy that was Zarbon's face and tinted blue complexion. Frieza's tail tip was wiggling around under the covers in an erotic fashion while his forehead began to bead up slightly with sweat. Frieza could feel his heart beating louder inside his chest… it was aching for him to love. He moved his face closer to Zarbon's, until their noses touched… then Frieza slowly inched his own glossy lips closer to his Servant's.

I can't keep doing this… He thought, and suddenly, Frieza's mind flashed back to the bloody mauling of that very day.

Frieza let out a little gasp and immediately pulled himself away, his eyes were wide. He then gazed up into the black ceiling of the recovery room; frustration filled his head:

Why are you doing this to me, Zarbon? Why do you torment me so? How cruel must you be to torture my soul like this? You must be crueler then even I, Lord Frieza! But why?

…Frieza turned his starving eyes back to the beautiful creature that lay right beside him. The dangerous alien extended his hands slightly and took Zarbon's delicate face back into his grip while the young man still dozed.

You'll pay for this, Zarbon! Damn you, Servant… damn you to hell… damn you to… to…

Frieza lost all control. He kissed his Servant's lips with all the existent fervor in his soul; he allowed his own purple tongue to roam freely within his Servant's mouth while his hands played around in his sea of green hair. The overlord kicked away the covers off of Zarbon and squirmed his cool, scaled body against his as Frieza then proceeded to pull down Zarbon's boxers (though he did it carefully, as to not disrupt his bandaged wound). With his lungs protesting against the long kiss, Frieza pulled away, panting, his eyes wide; he stared deep into the slumbering Zarbon as the alien reached down and retrieved his Servant's length. No longer able to control his urges, Frieza held his breath and shoved his Servant's shaft right up inside himself; Frieza gave an outcry but was quick to stifle himself with his hand over his mouth. Amazingly, Zarbon still remained under the influence of the powerful drugs, so Frieza finally lay down upon him and firmly rubbed his own crotch into Zarbon's; the sweat that had collected on his body aided in Frieza's quest to force Zarbon deeper into him. As he lay back down and cuddled close to his Servant under the bed covers, dragging the back of his hand against Zarbon's soft cheek, Lord Frieza whispered into his ear before he succumbed to slumber…

Your mine, Zarbon… your ALL mine… And no one can have you but me…