"And with them," Vegeta continued, crossing his arms as he leaned further back on the couch, "you can wish for anything?"
"Anything that's within Kami's power to grant," she replied, watching as Vegeta's eyes narrowed in concentration. It was strange, she thought, having an alien prince sitting in her living room. No matter how acquainted with the abnormal Bulma got, she caught herself from time to time pondering the perplexity of it all. "There are limitations, but yeah, that's the gist of it."
"Immortality."
Bulma rolled her eyes, catching the look that encompassed his features. She could only imagine what he was contemplating. "And why would you want something like that?"
"So I can defeat Frieza." His tone was bitter, and there was a malicious glint in his eyes. She realized his intensity for killing Frieza had only intensified since Cerius. Vegeta was a prideful man, and discovering he hadn't quite achieved his greatest victory was not a light blow to his sensitive pride.
"From the sounds of things, Frieza will be here in a couple days."
"You said you are the best at gathering them, yes?" His features hardened. "Collect them, and grant my wish."
Bulma grinned. "Sorry Vegeta, but it doesn't work like that. You can only make one wish a year," she rose a finger, as though to better get the point across, then brought the finger to her chest, motioning to herself, "and I haven't been alive that long."
He grunted. "A waste of a wish, if you ask me."
She was familiar enough with him to understand his humor, to see the line at one corner of his lips jump, to know that he was joking. "Hey!" Laughing, she pushed against his shoulder playfully.
He remained silent, and she sniffed. "Fine then, be a jerk Vegeta, and see what happens."
"Oh, please tell me woman, what will you do?"
"I won't let you use the Gravity Chamber," she replied. Though the haughty smirk on his lips was enough to let her know that he would like to see her try and physically stop him from doing anything. She frowned. "I'll break it, and good luck finding someone to fix it before Frieza shows up."
"You never said," he changed the subject, tone no longer holding any trace of jesting, "when we were on Cerius, that if you died you could be wished back."
"It never came up," she replied, cocking her head to the side, studying the dark prince's thoughtful countenance. "I have a power level of five, Vegeta. I'm brave, but not stupid."
With just that, Vegeta was satisfied. "This Gravity Chamber," his eyes were now focused outside the window at the contraption on her back lawn, "when will it be ready?"
"Uh," Bulma scratched her head. She'd gotten a good deal of work done on the roof that day, and she was in the process of tweaking the gravity to go up to one-hundred-times Chikyuu's. It didn't take a genius such as her to see how quickly Goku had mastered training under intense pressure. She was glad that she was raising it, because if she thought Goku was extreme, she couldn't imagine the beating Vegeta would take in order to get the most out of his training. "Almost done. I can have it up after dinner."
Just as she seemed to provide him everything he could want on Cerius, here on her own planet she was able to supply him with meals and training facilities. He didn't need her, he told himself, but the benefits that came with having her close were worth keeping her around. It was the very argument that had kept her alive the past few months.
"That should be sufficient," he nodded.
"I can prepare you a room, and two for the other Saiyans you brought with you, if you'd like."
Vegeta thought of Raditz and Nappa, a headache forming. He was unsure of what their roles were now that they were all on this planet. Radtiz had expressed a bit of interest in being around his nephew and brother, but he couldn't picture Nappa stuck in a word of weaklings without causing a scene. He did not care about the humans, but he didn't want to listen the woman's complaints. And if Nappa blasted a few of her kind into the next dimension, he was sure to hear about it.
"They are with the other idiots."
She nodded. "Probably the Lookout." She studied Vegeta for a moment longer before getting to her feet. "Well, I'll have my mom put on dinner, and I'll go work on the Gravity Chamber. Sound good?"
Nodding, Vegeta stood and followed her outside. She stared at him from the corner of her eye, wondering if he were really going to watch her the entire time she worked. It seemed like it would be more than a little distracting, but she sighed; he had nothing else to do.
Instead of hovering over her, however, Vegeta moved to the other side of the yard and practiced katas while the woman worked. He glanced at her every now and then, just to make sure she wouldn't disappear. He could feel her ki, though, and hear her humming to herself as she busied herself with making him stronger. Concentrating on his training, he willed himself not to think of the beautiful blue haired woman again until it was time for dinner.
Krillin's head smashed against the wall, and he audibly groaned. When he opened his eyes, flinching at the ache in the back of his skull, he saw Yamcha scratch his head sheepishly.
"Yeah," Krillin moaned. "Thanks for the help."
"Sorry," Yamcha said, coming to his side and extending his hand to his friend. The short, bald man took it and got to his feet. His opponent yawned.
"That was easy," Nappa frowned, watching the pair of humans, both badly bruised, the scar-faced one sporting a bloody lip and the bald one a broken arm.
Raditz, on the other hand, was having trouble keeping up with his brother. He was surprised how much stronger Goku appeared to be. Surely if he were this powerful months ago Goku wouldn't have feared him the moment him the first time he landed on this planet.
Nappa scanned the group of fighters, wondering where Vegeta and the child had run off. They made for much better opponents than these weaklings.
"Any takers?" He asked, cracking his neck with a grin.
From the corner of the room, the lean green-skinned man took a step in his direction. From what he understood of the race, Nappa believed Namekians were weak and preferred peace to fighting. He scuffed. Though this particular Namekian seemed to have an icy glare, and decent enough power level to prove otherwise.
So, with a shrug, Nappa charged towards Piccolo, glad to find one person on this planet that posed a challenge, even if that someone wasn't exactly from there. Figures.
"Hey Bulma!"
The woman in question glanced up from her morning coffee and Sudoku puzzle. She'd been only half alert, what with the early hour and her transfixion over the conundrum of numbers. "Oh, hi Goku. What's up?"
Goku took a seat at the Brief's kitchen table, eyeing the plate of untouched waffles in front of Bulma. Without glancing up from her puzzle, Bulma slid them towards Goku, who accepted the plate happily.
The pair sat for a few moments in silence, in which Bulma's coffee grew tepid and she got up for a top-off while Goku finished her breakfast. After she returned to the table, Bulma stared at her friend over her steaming mug.
"So?"
"Oh, yeah," he nodded, polishing off some of the stray syrup. "I was wondering how the Gravity Chamber was coming along."
Bulma frowned. The Chamber seemed to be of primary interest to all the males in her life. "I got it up to one-hundred times Chikyuu's gravity."
Goku's eyes bulged. He'd been struggling with twenty-five.
"Vegeta's been at it for hours," she glanced down at her watch, seeing that it was only six-thirty in the morning. "You're welcome to drop by, but it's at your own risk."
Rubbing his neck, Goku decided he'd accept the challenge. He was more than a little anxious to spar with Vegeta. Besides, if he was Bulma's friend, there was no reason not to consider him one of his own.
She heard the muffled voices from downstairs, and squinting into the darkness, glanced at the alarm clock on the other side of the room.
"Uh," she mumbled, returning her head into the warm chest she'd been resting on, "five twenty-seven…"
While it may have been an early hour for her, she was quite shocked to find that Vegeta was still in her bed. Blinking, she glanced up to see the prince's features relaxed in the midst of a deep, dreamless sleep. He'd spent the previous day locked in the Gravity Chamber with Goku, the room set to one-hundred-G's. Bulma tried to remember what time it had been when he'd finally come to bed, freshly showered and in need of a post-training workout. She smiled at the memory, before deciding that it was probably only a few hours ago. Vegeta must have been exhausted, after all, to sleep through the commotion downstairs.
She held her breath and listened to the pair of voices. With a sigh, she nudged the prince. He grunted, not opening his eyes.
"What is it, woman?"
"Nappa," she answered, snuggling closer to his chest. While Raditz had opted to stay at Goku's, much to his sister-in-law's displeasure, Nappa had nowhere else to go. That was how he'd ended up at Capsule Corporation, having a noisy conversation with Mrs. Briefs at five-thirty in the morning.
"Stop him," she sighed, "before he kills my mother."
Trying to fall back to sleep, Vegeta grunted. "That idiot woman's life is of no consequence to me. She should stop pestering Nappa about finding a 'nice, pretty human woman'."
Lifting her head, blue tresses falling around her shoulders and brushing against his own, she frowned at him. "The fate of your breakfast depends on that woman."
Grumbling, Vegeta got to his feet, being sure to shove Bulma off him none too gently. While this earned him a glare from her, she was well aware that it was nothing more than a light tap coming from the powerful man now scrambling to pull on his clothes.
With a grin, Bulma watched his bare ass disappear into a pair of spandex shorts, as he muttered a stream of curses that were more than likely directed at her, before slamming the door to her bedroom behind him.
Bulma yawned, and snuggled into the pillow he'd been using. It was warm, and smelt of the Saiyan Prince. With a smile, Bulma closed her eyes. Vegeta did not return to her room, and she did not wake up until nine o'clock.
Vegeta was in the Gravity Room when he'd felt it. Goku was gone, remaining at his home to appease his wife who was none too pleased with all the time their brat had been spending alone with Raditz and Piccolo while Goku spent the last few days training at Capsule Corps.. Though being in the company of the idiot made his head physically throb with pain, Vegeta could not deny the strength of the Saiyan. Goku had been coming by each afternoon, and the pair would spar until it hurt either to move and Bulma's mom called for dinner. Sex and food were the only things that could lure a Saiyan away from fighting, and within the compounds of Capsule Corporation, he found both.
He recognized Frieza's energy, but was not familiar with the ki accompanying him. Cursing, Vegeta wiped his brow and exited the Gravity Chamber.
"Vegeta," Goku called, the moment he'd stepped from the Chamber.
Cocking a brow in the man's direction, Vegeta watched as the woman entered the yard, worry evident on her features.
"What is it?" She glanced first at him, and then to the taller Saiyan. At the serous look on Goku's face, her own expression fell. "Is everything alright?"
"Bulma," Goku spoke, his voice low. "Go to Korin's and get all the Senzu beans you can."
With a shaky nod, Bulma reached for her capsules. "How will I find you?"
"Gohan has the four-star ball."
With another nod, she pocketed the capsule containing the radar, her hover bike capsule still in hand.
Nearly as soon as he'd appeared, Goku was gone. Vegeta also powered up, but before he could take to the sky, he felt her hand stop him.
He glanced down at the small, pale fingers encompassing his thick, tanned wrist.
"What is it, woman?" He said, jerking the limb from her grasp.
"Please," she sighed, stepping towards him, "be careful."
Snorting, Vegeta turned his back to her. Before he could take off, she interrupted him once again.
"I'm serious Vegeta." She clutched the capsule in her hand. "I'm worried about you."
He remained silent.
"Good luck."
"You are an idiot. I have survived this before; I do not need your luck."
"It's an expression," she sighed, trying to keep her temper at bay. "I'm worried about you. I don't want to lose you, not again."
"I was never lost."
"Vegeta…"
"I will return when this is all over," he turned his head, glancing at the woman before blasting into the sky, not giving her another chance to delay him. With his luck, Kakarot would have beaten him to the battlefield and destroyed Frieza before he'd get a chance to lay a finger on him.
Gohan shook slightly, and inched closer to Krillin.
His father and the tyrant were exchanging words, and from the other side of the field, he could feel Freiza's power radiating from his small frame. Goku was giving the new arrivals the chance to leave, promising him that if he were to go now, peacefully, they would not harm him. Vegeta snorted.
"Hey Gohan," Krillin whispered. "Is that Frieza?"
The boy squinted, staring at the warrior who was laughing at his father's words of warning.
"It's him," Gohan answered, though he couldn't help but notice that Frieza looked slightly altered somehow.
Vegeta had noticed this too, and smirked, glad to see that he'd at least put a permanent dint or two in the bastard. He was antsy, however, due to all the small talk. Even if Frieza took the offer to go in peace, though he knew he would never, Vegeta would not let him go without a fight. He'd blast him on his way back to his ship if that were to become the case.
When he stopped laughing, Frieza coolly studied the group before him, his eyes resting on Goku and Gohan. "I thought I managed to kill most of you monkeys… Oh well, there is always today."
"That is right my son," King Cold said, nodding at the shorter man at his side. "Please make it fast. I already tire of this planet."
"As do I, father."
Turning his attention the group of warriors that had gathered upon his arrival, Frieza smirked.
"Who is up first?" His gazed focused on Vegeta. "Ah, little monkey prince, I assume you would like a rematch?"
Not bothering answering, Vegeta powered up, ki flaring around him, a fierce crackling of blue energy, and flew towards the bastard he was fairly sure he'd already killed once before. This time around, he would be certain there would be no doubt. He smirked, his fist colliding into Frieza's gut, picturing himself ripping the tyrant apart until there was no uncertainty. Hand at the tyrant's stomach, he released an energy blast.
His demeanor fell, however, as the attack did nothing but widen Frieza's grin.
"Please don't tell me you think you'll be getting off that easy," Frieza rose a few feet into the air, his tail swaying behind him as Vegeta visibly shook from below. "I was unprepared last time. I assure you, I am not taking any chances this time around."
King Cold watched his son from the ground, grunting as he studied the statistics playing across his scouter. Cocking his head to the side, he honed in on the small half-Saiyan trembling beside a short bald human. These men seemed to have little in common aside from their obvious ability to control their power levels. It was an interesting trait; one he wouldn't mind picking up.
A cold smile on his lips, he decided the child would be the best target. He knew this was the one his son was after, the little brat that had assisted in leaving his son for dead in the cold emptiness of space.
"You," he said, eyes on the boy.
Gohan's eyes darted from the fight overhead to the tall man frowning in his direction. "Me?"
"Yes, you, brat," he grunted. "Let us head over to the other side of that ridge. I wish to fight you, but do not want to get in the way of my son's fight with Vegeta."
Goku narrowed his eyes at the warrior, taking a step in front of his son, shielding him from King Cold's view. "Leave Gohan out of this." He still felt guilty for putting his son in danger.
"Goku," Piccolo interrupted, his eyes never trailing from the pair exchanging blows in the sky. "You are needed here. I will go with Gohan."
He glanced at his son, before nodding in understanding. "Okay Piccolo."
King Cold did not wish to listen to any more of this, and so, taking into the sky, he flew to the other side of ridge. Gohan blinked, wondering why he always ended up being the one fighting, but as he took to the air, he was flanked by the two men who'd served as his coaches the past few days.
"Raditz," he smiled at his uncle, and then glanced at the somber Namekian. Gohan took one last fleeting glance to the sky, to see that while Vegeta was holding his own, the prince did not appear to be at a clear advantage.
"Do not pay any attention to that fight," Piccolo instructed. "Raditz and I will help you, and your father and the others are there in case Vegeta needs any assistance."
Raditz remained silent, crease forming at his brow, knowing that Vegeta wouldn't allow anyone to step in and help him. It would have to be over his bloody corpse that anyone else was able to take on Frieza.
From the ground, Yamcha found himself standing beside Krillin, Nappa, Tien, and Goku, feeling a bit useless. He knew he'd be willing, if the time came for it, to step up and fight, but if Vegeta and the men around him all fell, surely he would as well. It was more than a little disheartening, but he was in the business of saving their planet. Sometimes, there were casualties.
Frieza's fist caught Vegeta's cheek, tossing him back a few feet. Vegeta easily regained control, skidding to a stop and propelling himself back towards Frieza. He could feel himself growing fatigued, but used that, as well as the blood and sweat collecting on his brow, fists, and chest, to fuel his passion. This was it. This was all there was to survive for. If he failed now, there was no purpose of living, and nowhere worthy of showing his face as a failure.
With a growl, he flashed before Frieza's eyes, and when the tyrant blinked, the Saiyan was floating nearly a kilometer from him. Before he had a chance to move, he was caught in the midst of Vegeta's Big Bang attack.
Vegeta panted, watching the smoke dispense. When it cleared, his chest tightened. Frieza stood, smiling, unscathed.
Krillin watched as Vegeta's move failed, and had to shield his eyes as the blast was echoed by one of Frieza's own.
"He doesn't have much time," Goku muttered, watching as the pair returned to hand-to-hand combat.
"No," Nappa snapped, glancing at the Saiyan who was ready to blast forward and offer his assistance to their prince. "This is still his fight."
Krillin blinked. "But he's… he's going to get beaten. What if he's killed?"
Nappa simply shook his head. "Not yet."
On the opposite side of the ridge, Gohan was not as concerned with fighting solo. He was more than happy to have the assistance of the brawny Saiyan and the battle-savvy Namekian. It certainly made his job easier.
Tag-teaming King Cold had proved easy enough. The large emperor was more than a little cocky, and had laughed at the trio's attempts at first. That is, until they began to wear him out. Blocking their moves proved difficult. He'd finally brought the Saiyans down for a brief moment with a blinding blast. Cornering the Namekian, he took hold of one of his green limbs, and with a shout ripped it from his body.
"No!" Gohan cried, scrambling to his feet as he watched his companion sway at the loss of the limb. Purple blood dripped from the wound, and even Raditz struggled to his feet to help the fighter.
Laughing, King Cold raised his arm at the beaten Piccolo, ready to deal a deadly blow, when the small half-Saiyan charged forward. Spreading his arms, Gohan deflected the blow intended for Piccolo with ease. A murderous glint flashed in the boy's eyes.
Raditz smirked, more than a little impressed at his nephew's sudden second-wind. He moved to Piccolo's side, ready to defend the warrior if King Cold took any characteristic low blows. However, it would not come to it, as Gohan charged towards the warrior, his hair flashing for an instant, a powerful energy blast forming in his palms.
Blinking, Raditz watched the golden color fade, and the hair briefly spike, before falling limp once more. "It can't be," he whispered, as the Namekian beside him clutched his arm with a proud smile.
"Hang in there, Vegeta," Goku muttered, watching as the Saiyan Prince took yet another punch to the face. He felt Bulma's ki in the distance, arriving at Korin's. Soon she would be here, Senzu beans in hand. Surely Vegeta would back down before he met his end.
Goku could feel it, the anticipation pulsing in his veins. He studied Frieza's attacks, memorizing his strategy. On the surface, he was often brushed off as a bubbling, naive do-gooder. All of which, in fact, were truths of his character. However, as his eyes bounced back and forth between the pair of skilled fighters, formulating an attack of his own, there was no ounce of idiocy in him.
Vegeta shouted, the sound reverberating against the terrain, cracking a ledge in the distance. How, he wondered, panting as his vision clouded, how was it possible that he could fail? Again? The last time he'd felt so close, and he'd done nothing but train since. During this fight, Frieza had been able to transform, but not he. He could feel it, locked away in some unreachable place within him. It was maddening.
He released another blast, watching as it charred his opponent's core, but did nothing to slow Frieza down as he approached.
"No," Vegeta panted, gathering some more of his energy and steadying his sights on Frieza. The bastard who'd destroyed his home, stripped his legacy to nothing more than an empty title. "You will not win."
Both hands at one side, he gathered more ki, wheezing as he released it. The tyrant deflected the blast, and it spun to the left, colliding into cliff and reducing it to rubble. Vegeta was desperate now, and he charged the other warrior half-mad.
Frieza grunted, dodging the blow with a turn of his shoulder, and sending his fist through Vegeta's stomach. The prince had become reckless in his passion, and Frieza smirked as he watched him pay the price. Hand still in the prince's fresh wound, he released an energy blast, instantly cauterizing it.
"No," Vegeta said, once more, as he felt the ache of his defeat more so than the pain of the blow.
He fell, face up, to the ground, splintering the earth with the force of his fall. Eyes sliding closed, Vegeta breathed, taking in the air with difficultly, and cursing himself. He was still alive, he knew, bringing his hand to rest on his stomach. Lifting his arm, he glanced down at his glove, now red with fresh, wet blood.
Clinching his fist, he growled, pulling himself up and getting to his feet.
"Vegeta," the scar-face man called, rushing to his side. Vegeta glanced at the man, murder in his eyes.
"Get out of my way."
"You…" Yamcha swallowed. "You need to relax. Goku's got this."
Vegeat's dark eyes flashed upwards, to where the third-class fool was meeting his opponent.
"I will not let him."
"Bulma will be here," Yamcha spoke, warily eyeing the prince's wound. The cauterization prevented any further blood loss, but it was still a rather nasty injury. "She'll have Senzu beans. You can wait that long."
He thought of the woman; his eyes slid closed.
"Sit back," Yamcha instructed, hands wisely hovering inches from the prince's shoulders, not quite able to touch the man. "She wants you alive. Goku is a Saiyan. He's on your side."
"Kakarot," he grumbled, feet sliding apart as he glanced upwards. The Saiyan was shouting, his ki skyrocketing. Even Frieza seemed to tremble. Vegeta's voice was low, "Kakarot… It is up to you. Avenge our people."
Yamcha blinked at the words.
Vegeta squinted as Goku's power level continued to climb. It surpassed his, he realized bitterly. He was selfish, but dying. Groaning, he remained standing as he watched the warrior above him do what he'd now failed twice.
Goku's hair flashed briefly, swinging upwards as it turned a vibrant shade of yellow, a golden aura surrounding his frame. Vegeta watched his legacy unfolding without him, the pain in his chest now far surpassing the gaping hole in his stomach.
"Wha…" Krillin gasped, "what is it?"
"Super Saiyan," Vegeta answered, teeth clinched, half in awe, half fury. Goku had stopped shouting, and was now charging towards the dumbfounded tyrant.
From the sky, the low class warrior, who'd spent less time in the Gravity Chamber than he, pushing his body to its limits, brought Frieza to his knees.
Vegeta listened as the bastard begged for his life, fingers from one hand digging into his palm as the other held his stomach in place.
It was he who had been fated to fulfill their race's legend. The weight of their people had been put on Vegeta's shoulders, and he'd carried it, rather seriously, his entire life. The strength had coursed through his veins; he could feel it within himself. He'd never doubted that he would one day assume the rightful place that had been preordained since the day of his birth...
Blood and sweat skewed his vision; fury shook his frame, as he watched Kakarot ascend, so effortlessly, right before his eyes. The idiot had once told him, during a spar in the Gravity Chamber, that he could win any fight, only if he tried hard enough. It was Vegeta who told him what a Super Saiyan was. His jaw tightened, molars grinding to a painful degree.
What was there to live for, Vegeta wondered, watching as Kakarot's Kamehameha collided with the wide-eyed tyrant, when the only goal that drove him forward was dead at the hands of a low-class fool?