Chapter 38

A week later Bulma raced into the room, skidding around corners and scrambling to hold the scouter aloft. she cried triumphantly, holding the scouter towards the ceiling, not bothering to knock as she entered.


Vegeta blinked at her and stood there, putting down the battlesuit he was holding and coming to stand by her. What is it, woman? he growled impatiently.

Bulma turned a deep, deep shade of red. You're not wearing any clothes, she whispered, eyes huge, vacant, and very pointedly staring straight ahead and not at him.

He scowled and raised an eyebrow. So? I just got out of the shower.

Please put on some underwear, at least, she said, and couldn't believe she had said it. There's something I need to show you.

He grumbled something and she closed her eyes as she heard him rummaging around in drawers, slamming things and throwing others on the floor. Finally she heard the slither of fabric against skin and she opened her eyes to see him in a pair of boxer briefs, the waistband rolled down underneath his tail to fit more comfortably. They were heather gray and were almost as tight at the battlesuits he wore, causing her to stay flushed as he came back to stand next to her. This is the most useless article of clothing I have ever had the displeasure to encounter, he growled. I'm glad I don't have to wear these all the time.

Bulma felt something in her stomach lurch and she reddened further, trying desperately not to sneak glances at his sculpted body, She held out the scouter to him, hands imperceptibly shaking. Try it on, she said, voice a little unsteady.

He snatched it out of her hand and clamped it onto his head, his scowling eyes looking at her as he trained the lens on her position and began to press the side button. Characters flickered to life across the screen and he realized that he could read them. As he scrolled through the functions he made a few noises deep in his throat, then took the scouter from his head and handed it back to her.

she said, startled out of her distraction at having so much of his bare, warm skin right next to her. So? Does it work? Are the words spelled right?

He shrugged coldly. I suppose. Have Zarbon take a look at it and if he approves it feel free to begin the manufacturing process.

she said, clutching the scouter triumphantly. I redid the pods, too. I suppose I'll have him check those as well. Wow, if we start manufacturing tomorrow you'll be out of here in another month!

His stomach sank at her words. Only another month on Earth, then back to his cold, dark destiny in the stars. Back to Nappa's idiocy and the Arlians and Kijarans, back to only having Zarbon at his side. he said, managing it without any hint of sarcasm.

Her face fell a little and she fiddled with the scouter, eyes downcast. Then you'll go back to space, she said softly. Do you think any of you will ever come back?

No, probably not, he said roughly. It's a little out of the way, and why would we?

Why indeed, she murmured.

An idea suddenly entered into his head, an idea that oddly enraged him. Why does it even matter? he snapped sharply. Are you going to miss your little pet Radditz?

She blinked at him in confusion.

He narrowed his eyes. You know what I'm talking about, he hissed.

I will miss Radditz, but that's not what I was thinking about! she protested.

he said angrily, curling his lip. Suddenly he wanted to be far, far away from that room, and he felt more than ever like beating something into oblivion. Anything else you want to waste my time with?

I'm sorry I'm such a monumental waste of your time, she snarled. Maybe you should've never come here and never should have worked out a technology deal.

Are you going to lecture me or do you have something important to say? he said impatiently, the urge to get out of the room growing stronger.

She forced herself to be civil and give him a straight answer. Yes, actually. I just wanted to invite you to a function tonight if the scouter's okay. We're going to have a party to celebrate the closing of the deal and the beginning of the manufacturing process. Will you come?

he said out of the corner of his mouth, looking away.

She sighed. This man was utterly impossible. Well, if you decide to there will be plenty of dancing and food. The only catch is that you can't wear your armor or battlesuit. The only outfits I've seen you in the entire time you've been here, other than that poorly-fitting tux we forced you into, have been your battlesuit or your shorts. You'll need to wear a normal outfit for tonight, she explained.

he grumbled and went back over to the bed, starting to slide off the underwear.

She found herself staring, wanting to stay and watch despite her best judgment.

If you truly want a show you should just come stand over here, he said to her sharply, having paused the removal of the underwear just below his hips.

Uh, sorry, she said with a blush and hurried from the room.

Hi, ChiChi! she chirped over the phone. How are you doing? Oh, really....that's nice, she said brightly. Well, I'm fine, thanks, but the reason I called was to invite your whole family over this evening. No, it's a party we're having to celebrate the beginning of the manufacturing we're doing for the Saiyans. Mmmhmmm. Yeah. It should be done in a month or two. Uh-huh, I suppose they'll leave then. Yeah. So, can you make it? Great! No, you don't have to bring anything, but I'm not going to stop you if you try to bring appetizers. No, really, you're the best cook I know. Yes, if course I mean it! Okay, great. See you about six then, if you insist on bringing something. The party will start about seven. Great, ChiChi! Thanks and I'll see you later. Give Goku my love. Okay. Bye, she said, and hung up the phone. she shouted. Did you call the catering company?

Sure did, dearest! her mother called back from another room. Did you want decorations?

Bulma rummaged through the phone book. It doesn't matter. Is the DJ bringing lights and things?

I believe so. Is there anything else? Mrs. Briefs asked.

I don't think so...wait, did you tell Dad?

Mrs. Briefs' laugh carried through the halls. I'll go do that right away, she said.

Great, then I'm gonna do a couple more things and run over to the plant to make sure things are going okay for tomorrow, Bulma replied.

Okay! Have fun, dear! her mother bubbled.

Bulma laughed to herself; her mother was almost as excited about the party as she was about getting the technology finished. She walked down the hall and up the stairs to the TV room, thinking about how her father had finished the tests on the copies of the armor he had made as well. As she walked into the room she smiled at her family's success and politely tapped the person sitting in front of the television on the shoulder.

Oh, hello, Zarbon said, his eyes gliding away from the screen to rest on her face. Excellent job with the scouter once again.

She blushed a little. Thank you. Listen, I'm sorry to have to ask you this, but could you do me a favor?

He could tell she was nervous talking to him, let alone asking him a favor. He had to give her credit for guts, that was for certain. Of course. And don't ever hesitate to ask, he said gently.

Well, could you make sure Vegeta looks nice tonight? For the party? she blurted.

Zarbon chuckled. I'll do what I can, he said, amused, but I can't make any promises.

That's good enough for me, she said. I'd better get to calling more people.

I'll get right on it, Zarbon said, standing as she left the room. He stretched his arms and turned off the television, then headed outside to one of the peripheral lab buildings. Throwing up his aura he entered a code into the keypad and entered, the door behind him closing as the door before him opened. The tugging was slight with his aura in full effect, but he could still feel the pull of the increased gravity inside the room. A glance over at the panel told him Vegeta was at about 50Gs.

he said, and watched as Vegeta slowed down his movements and turned to look at Zarbon.

Put down your aura, Zarbon, and see how strong I'm becoming, Vegeta said with a cruel laugh.

I don't think so, Vegeta. I already know you're strong, and I haven't trained enough to withstand fifty, Zarbon replied. But you need to stop training for today. We have some business.

Vegeta floated to the ground, sweating profusely, and walked over to Zarbon. What? We have business? What happened, did you tire of your little scarred friend? Vegeta said coldly.

No, but you certainly never wanted to be around me. You're always panting around Bulma, Zarbon said, irritated and then embarrassed at admitting his jealousy. Vegeta was the only friend he had that he also respected, and it hurt to be ignored by him. But that's not why I'm here.

Then why are you? Vegeta snapped.

We need to get you dressed, Zarbon said. The party's still a ways off, but you never tried on any of the things I bought you months ago and we need to find something that fits. It could take a while, so let's go.

Vegeta said, mildly surprised.

Zarbon sighed. Yes, now! he exclaimed. Are you coming or not?

Vegeta stared at Zarbon, mouth slightly open. he said, grouchy, and turned the gravity intensity down to normal. I just don't see the damn hurry.

The hurry, Vegeta, is caused by the fact that I know you and it'll take you several hours just to find something that you're willing to wear, Zarbon retorted, leading the way out of the room.

You don't know me that well, Vegeta grumbled.

Zarbon walked across the yard, shaking his head. We'll see, won't we? he replied, and opened the door, lecturing Vegeta until they reached the threshold of his room. Now let's see what you've got, he said, reaching into Vegeta's closet and scowling intensely. After one breathless moment he turned and glared at the Saiyan, golden eyes flashing angrily. And just where are the clothes I got for you? he said, outraged.

Vegeta reddened a little. I don't know, he admitted. They might be in there in a box or something. That or I destroyed them, one or the other.

You destroyed them? Zarbon gasped.

Vegeta's scowl deepened. I didn't say I destroyed them, he snapped. I only said that I didn't know where they are.

Zarbon was ignoring him by the time he finished his sentence, intent on throwing boxes out of the closets and rummaging through every single little thing, mumbling to himself about the ignorance of Saiyans the entire time. Finally he held up a sweater, triumphant. Oh, bless her heart, Mrs. Briefs boxed everything! he said with a relieved sigh, clutching the sweater to him.

But I can't wear that, Vegeta protested. It's summer!

Zarbon frowned and turned the sweater around in his hands. So it is. No, you can't get away with this because it's too hot out. Besides, you Saiyans sweat like the monkeys you are and you'd just stink up the whole place anyway, he said with a sigh. But there has to be something here that will work.

Vegeta grimaced and walked over. What about that and that? he asked, pointing.

Zarbon gasped and put a hand to his forehead. Are you blind, man? Good god, it's a good thing I'm helping you, he mumbled. No, what about this?

I'd rather die, Vegeta snarled, crossing his arms over his chest for emphasis.

And so it begins, Zarbon muttered under his breath, still busily shifting through clothes.

What was that? Vegeta snapped.

Zarbon rolled his eyes. he moaned. Looks like it's the mall for us.

Vegeta demanded, curling a fist.

Zarbon countered. See? You're already being difficult!

Difficult? Who's being difficult? I'm just not being stupid, that's all!

Quiet, you, and let a professional work. Now go put on your shorts and a t-shirt or something so we can go to the mall and find something. I'll wait for you outside.

Vegeta snarled at the pile of discarded clothing, making a rude gesture at Zarbon as he left the room in a huff. Still muttering curses under his breath, he bent to find a shirt and prepared himself for the long hours of shopping ahead.


We're here! ChiChi shouted, pushing open the door with her hip as she entered the kitchen.

Oh, goodness, Ms. ChiChi, look at all that food! Mrs. Briefs exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. Let me give you a hand with that.

No, I think we've got it, ChiChi said, and with that Goku and Gohan marched in behind her, each of them piled with trays of food.

Gohan levitated up to the edge of the counter, putting his trays on the solid surface before returning to the ground and executing a deep bow. Hello, Mrs. Briefs, he said sweetly. How are you this evening?

Oh, what a darling boy! Mrs. Briefs chirped, running over to pinch the child's cheeks.

Goku laughed and put down his trays as well. Yeah, he's pretty polite, he said with a chuckle. Luckily ChiChi can teach him all that stuff, since she's a princess and all.

Oh yes, I had nearly forgotten about that, Mrs. Briefs said, putting a hand to her collarbones. Your father is a king.

ChiChi smiled nervously, the corner of her eye twitching. Ah, yes, he is, ChiChi said, casting a glare at Goku, But our kingdom was destroyed a long time ago, so now all we have is the title and, luckily, a little bit of riches squirreled away. Thank goodness, since Goku's never had a job and the prize money from tournaments doesn't last for many years.

Goku laughed, the noise starting to sound confused and uncertain, and put a hand behind his head. Yeah, I just don't fit in to normal society, he said bashfully.

Gohan trotted over and put his hand on his father's knee. Don't worry, Daddy, Gohan said solemnly. When I'm a scientist you won't ever have to worry about money.

ChiChi made a happy little noise in her throat and scooped up her son. That's right, Gohan honey. Forget about all this nasty fighting and keep up your studies, she cooed.

Keep him training, though, so he stays in shape, Bulma interjected, entering the room with several bags of ice and plopping them on another counter. I think it's good that he's active and it gives him a good opportunity to bond with his father.

ChiChi set Gohan down and faced Bulma belligerently, putting her hands on her hips and jutting out her lower jaw slightly. Don't tell me that you, with all your oh-so-publicized intelligence, would rather have a child of yours out training and becoming a fighter instead of studying and becoming an engineer or something? she snapped.

Bulma's cheeks colored and she wiped her hands off on a towel. No, I mean to tell you that if I had children I would let them do whatever they needed to do to be happy, she corrected ChiChi stiffly.

That's if you had children. You'll have to stop turning down proposals if you want to have children, ChiChi said sharply.

Bulma gasped and Goku sent her a strange glance. Oh, ChiChi, he said gently. Bulma could have anyone she wanted. Anyone, he said with a meaningful look.

What's that? another voice said, and Bulma looked up to see Radditz enter the room, dressed in slacks and a nice rayon button-down shirt.

Oh, nothing, we were just talking about Gohan, Goku covered, reaching down to touch the boy's hair.

Radditz smiled tightly and placed another bag of food on the counter. he mumbled, his eyes flickering to Bulma. I think children are a wonderful idea.

Bulma blushed again and smoothed the front of her shirt. Well, I'm not going to worry about things like that now. I have a lot of other things I'd like to do before I have a baby, like travel, she said, turning to open the bags of ice.

Oh, Bulma, is that what you're wearing? Mrs. Briefs said with alarm, pointing at Bulma's outfit of shorts and t-shirt.

Bulma laughed, waving away her mother. Of course not! she said gaily, wiping her hands again. This is a nice party, after all.

Then you'd better go get ready. People are going to start arriving in forty-five minutes, her mother urged.

Bulma smiled apologetically at the assembled party and scurried upstairs to get dressed.


Quit squirming, Zarbon growled as he tugged on Vegeta's pant leg. You want this to look good, don't you?

I don't see what you fiddling with my cuffs has to do with making me look good, the Saiyan growled.

Zarbon stood up and sighed. It's about style Vegeta, he said with exasperation. He took a few steps back and nodded. Yes, that looks all right, he murmured.

Vegeta looked down at himself in alarm. All right? This only looks all right? he cried, gesturing with his hands to indicate his whole outfit.

A crafty smile curled up on Zarbon's face. Why does it matter? You usually don't care how you look. Is there something I should know about tonight?

No one is even going to notice if my pant cuffs are stylishly folded or not! Vegeta howled, clenching his fists at his sides.

Zarbon shook his head. You need to shave, not to mention shower again. This is a nice party, after all.

You're absolutely sure this looks good? Vegeta demanded, putting his hands on his hips and swaying as he examined himself in the mirror, his tail uncurling and waving slowly behind him.

Zarbon remembered what Yamcha had said that night at the pool and watched the waving tail with a wretched feeling in his stomach, the smile dropping off his face. You look very good, he said quietly.

Vegeta's black gaze fixed on Zarbon in the mirror. Now what's crawled up your ass? he snarled, turning around.

Zarbon scowled and turned his head to the side, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. he said peevishly. Leave me alone. I only have an hour to get ready for the party and I have no idea how I'll ever make it on time.

Vegeta snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. Well, I'm not going down there without you, he growled. You take whatever time you see necessary.

Zarbon just grunted and fixed his frowning gaze on the floor. he mumbled.

Vegeta came to stand directly in front of Zarbon, cinching his arms even tighter over his chest.

What is it? What's bothering you now? he persisted, staring down at the green head.

Don't ask if you don't want to know, Zarbon pouted, turning his head to the size and avoiding Vegeta's gaze.

Would I do something as stupid as asking if I didn't want to know? Vegeta growled. Now what is it?

Zarbon sighed and laced his fingers together before placing his hands in his lap. It's just that I think I know why you're so worried about your appearance tonight, whether you're aware of it or not, and it just makes me think about other things, that's all, he said softly.

Vegeta did not change his stance or the expression on his face. Oh? And what does that mean? he asked roughly.

Zarbon glanced up at him for a brief moment, the usually cold stare seeming a little wounded for a split second. Which part?

Vegeta answered. But I'll take why you think I'm worried about my clothes first. Which I'm actually not, by the way. I really could care less about how I look, he said imperiously.

Zarbon barked a bitter laugh. Don't feed me that line, Vegeta. I know you well enough to see that you're just sick with wanting to look spectacular. Trust me, I know primping when I see it. In addition, I think you're doing it to impress that Earth female, Bulma. She's got scads of men panting all over her and I think you intend to be the best-dressed of them tonight, he said, his voice turning acerbic.

What? That's preposterous! Vegeta exclaimed angrily. Why on earth would you think something like that?

Zarbon sighed again and shook his head, tendrils of silky green hair falling gently over his flawless cheeks with the motion. Face it, Vegeta, he snapped suddenly. You've been spending practically every spare second with her that she'll allow you to be around her. You follow her around and argue with her constantly, but it's all just so you can get her attention. When she's angry at you she's completely focused on you, and as much as you probably hate to admit it you love the attention. You like it so much you've been ignoring every other living being around you, regardless of how good their advice may be or how loyal they are, he said angrily.

Vegeta narrowed his eyes and spoke through his teeth. It sounds like you're jealous, he said quietly.

Zarbon's cheeks suddenly flared with color and he fixed a flashing golden stare on the Saiyan. Well, maybe I am! he exclaimed, unfolding his hands and fastening them to his knees, the knuckles turning white with the pressure. I think I have every right to be. You're the closest thing I've got to a friend in the entire universe, Vegeta. The second anyone from Freeza's army sees me they're going to try to kill me. These Earth people either like me because I'm exotic or because they're terrified of me. I don't really connect or identify with any of these people, he said.

What about all this fashion and entertainment nonsense? Vegeta grumbled.

Zarbon sighed and rolled his eyes. That's just fun, something to keep me occupied until we can get on with our mission. I'm a warrior first and foremost, and I'd gladly trade all my fancy outfits for a good battle in a heartbeat. But think about it, Vegeta: You don't associate with me because you want me physically or because you're scared of me. You don't care about where I come from and you, in your own odd way, respect me for my experience and my knowledge and have come to trust my judgment. You expect me to be myself in my purest form, and that's why you're such an important friend to me, he said, making a fist and pressing it to his chest.

Friendships are for weaklings, Vegeta spat. Friends only get killed, and if you care about them you leave yourself wide open.

Zarbon sighed. Whatever, Vegeta. I'm your man, regardless of how you see it. I'd like your friendship, but I suppose it isn't necessary. I'll serve you in the same manner whether we're friends or not. Now, are you still going to wait for me before going down? he asked sadly, standing up slowly and meandering to the door.

Vegeta's scowl didn't soften, but his tail had once again coiled protectively around his waist and was trembling. Yes, I'll wait. A prince needs to make a proper entrance.

Zarbon smiled weakly, resting his hand against the door as he turned around and glanced at Vegeta one last time. Of course. A proper prince. Don't forget to shave, he murmured, and his footsteps faded down the hallway.

Bulma stepped out of her private bathroom wrapped in a bath sheet, immediately gasping when she saw someone seated on her bed. What are you doing here? she breathed, her mouth dropping open.

Bulma, these past few months have been killing me and I'm really sorry about the last time we saw each other.

Yamcha, I really don't think this is a good time... she began.

When is a good time, Bulma? he said softly, standing and going over to her, taking her damp fingertips in his hand and pressing them against his cheek.

she said stiffly, pulling her fingers from his hand and striding over to her dressing table.

You know I'll always love you, he whispered, standing behind her and speaking right into her ear. I know you're lonely. All these strange men in your house, none of them treating you the way you really want to be treated...and then there's your fire, Bulma, that passion that burns inside of you that wants to hold and be held. How long has it been since you were held? The last night we made love?

She felt something in her stomach drop away and she lowered her eyes, idly moving the things on her dressing table around. She hated to admit it but she had been lonely, and she had missed the sex as well. she said, trailing off.

No, we don't have to rush right back into things. We can take it however quickly or slowly you'd like. But I love you and I'll do anything to have you near me, even if it means starting all over again as friends, he said quietly, brushing the curve of her ear with his lips.

She began to long for him, but to be perfectly honest with herself it wasn't necessarily him she was longing for. No, she wanted someone, anyone at all, and he was so familiar and comfortable.

No buts, he said suddenly. I'll do anything you want, anything you need. I'm yours.

I thought you wanted to get married. I thought you wanted children, she protested.

He laughed gently. Of course I do, he chuckled. But I realized all those things don't have to happen right now. We have the rest of our lives to put those pieces of the puzzle in. What's important right now is that we're happy. Are you happy now, Bulma?

Tears threatened to rise and she shifted her towel uncomfortably. I don't know, she said, voice scratchy. I don't know what I want. To be perfectly honest with you, Yamcha, I'm not so certain that what I want is you.

But Bulma, I'll do anything... he protested.

She held up a hand. I know you would and that's part of the problem. You're always caving in, giving up your integrity just so you can get what you want from me. What happened to that pride you used to have, out there when you were the desert bandit? When did you stop being the king of the desert and just plain, old, mundane Yamcha? she wondered aloud.

You're hurting me, Bulma, he admitted. You hurt me every day that you're not with me, and if you don't come back to me you'll hurt me every day for the rest of my life.

Oh, and the guilt trips, she remembered. You were always playing these little mind games. I forgot how good you are at games. Is this a game, Yamcha? she asked.

You're being too harsh, he chided. All I want is you, Bulma. I want you in my arms for the rest of our lives. Is that too much?

she answered, beginning to rub the towel wrapped around her hair. We have a party to go to tonight, though, so maybe we should just talk about this later.

I don't trust later, he said. Later can mean never but now is always now. I love you. Why is that so hard to take?

It's not, she said. But this is all about what you want.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. Okay, listen. Do you want Radditz? Is he the kind of man you wish I was? Is it because he's more dangerous than I am, more mysterious?

This isn't about Radditz, she countered, her cheeks coloring red.

Okay, okay, I overstepped my bounds. You are absolutely right, there is a party tonight, and everybody's going to have a good time.

She nodded, discarding her hair towel. That's correct, she mumbled, picking up her brush.

He took it from her gently and began to work its bristles through her hair. Do you remember all the times I have done this? he asked softly. Think about all the wonderful moments we've had. Remember how I couldn't even look at you without falling over when we first met? Oh man, you were so pretty, and you just got prettier. I stayed with you when you went to college, working at pizza places to pay for an apartment while you lived in the dorms, just so I could be near you. I was there when you got your master's degree and then your PhD years ahead of schedule, when you were officially accepted into the upper echelons of the Capsule business staff. I've been present for all your life's little moments, Bulma, not to mention those we made ourselves.

There were lots of those, she admitted with an unwilling smile.

He laughed briefly, still running his fingers and her brush through her silky hair. Yes. Like the first time we made love, all frantic and nervous as we rushed to your room, wet from the rain outside. You cried afterwards, I'll never know why. I'd like to think I didn't hurt you.

she whispered. I don't think that was it...

But there were so many tiny moments, so many instances of your smile burned into my memory. How can I live knowing that there will never be any new ones added to that collection? he asked, his voice fringed with desperation.

I have no control over that, Yamcha, she said sadly. I can't dictate what my heart wants.

He sighed and smiled gently. I know that. Ultimately you'll do whatever you want to do and I'm aware that there's nothing I can do to change that. All I'm asking for is that you try.

she pleaded. What do you want from me? she begged, clamping her fingers onto the edge of the table.

Well, start with tonight. Spend some time with me and remember why you loved me in the first place. Give me some new smiles to store away in my memory for when I'm old and gray, he said with a cooing laugh. Just have a good time with me, that's all, he whispered, leaning down to kiss her neck with soft lips.

She shuddered involuntarily, reaching up and wrapping her fingers in his dark mane. she moaned softly.

He kissed her again on the neck. Not now, princess. We have a party to go to, he said quietly, and left the room.