A Killer in Me

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or any of its characters. Yadda…yadda…yadda.

Warnings: Language

Special thanks as always go to Stacey and Maria

Archive: FFN and Stormy! Otherwise, ask and you shall receive.

Chapter 3

I used to be a little boy

So old in my shoes

And what I choose is my choice

What's a boy supposed to do?

The killer in me is the killer in you

My love

Send this smile over to you

-Disarm by the Smashing Pumpkins

Monkey See, Monkey Do

Vegeta was doing a remarkable job of assimilating it all. The young prince had an uncanny ability of adapting to radically new situations without batting an eye. "So you are telling me that both Raditz and Nappa are dead? And that myself and Kugo over there are the last of the Saiyans?"

"Uh…it's Goku," Goku corrected.

"Whatever," the prince dismissed him with a careless wave. "That's how it is now?"

There were noises to the affirmative. Vegeta didn't seem unduly upset by this and Bulma commented on it. Vegeta just shrugged. "Nappa, I loathe. Even for a Saiyan he was stupid. And as for Raditz, he was the son of that traitor Bardock. He deserved it."

"You knew Raditz's father?" Gohan asked in surprise.

"Don't remind me," Vegeta said sourly.

"So that means that Bardock is…er…was our grandfather," Gohan said to Goten.

"You knew Grandpa?" Goten asked Vegeta in awe.

Goku was wide-eyed as well. "My father's name was Bardock?"

Vegeta paced up to Goku and stared at him, eyes narrowed. "You are Bardock's other son? It figures. You look exactly like him, except for the scars." He turned his back on the other Saiyan and crossed his arms. "Do me a favor and stay away from me."

Goku looked hurt. "But…Vegeta?" he protested.

Vegeta's tail lashed as he paced up and down the front yard, ignoring the stares of the Z fighters. "This is insane," he said. Hearing them beginning to protest his statement, he shook his head. "I mean this situation is insane." He growled low in his throat.

"Well, why don't we go back to Capsule Corporation?" Bulma suggested. "I'm pretty sure my father can figure out what he did to his Regenerator Ray and reverse it."

Vegeta's eyes were just the slightest bit wild. "I will not be experimented on!" he snarled, curling a small fist.

"Don't worry father," Trunks assured him. "Grandpa is very good. Father won't have to stay like this, will he?" he asked Bulma.

"No way!" she declared.

But the prince didn't have a problem with being young again. There was something else preying on his mind. "Twelve years," he mused to himself, but Piccolo's sharp ears caught it.

"Twelve years?" he asked.

Vegeta looked up at the Nameckian. "It's been twelve years since Freiza was killed." His eyes gleamed with some unknown thoughts. "I wonder." A pause. "Where is my gear?" he demanded.

"At Capsule Corp."

"Take me there."

Something about the little Saiyan's manner made Piccolo's teeth itch. Vegeta was up to something. Of all the Saiyans that Piccolo had met, or of any beings for that matter, Vegeta was probably the most ruthless and cunning. Not to mention sneaky, underhanded and opportunistic. Anytime that wily brain of his was in overdrive, dangerous things happened. Mentally cringing though knowing that he probably would regret it if he didn't, Piccolo 'volunteered' to accompany them.

To Goten's disappointment, he was not allowed to go. Chi-Chi didn't want her youngest son hanging around the prince. She just knew that Vegeta was bad news at any age.

Seeing the downcast look on the littlest Son's face, Gohan whispered that they would go visit Trunks and Vegeta when he got home from school. Chi-Chi squashed Goku's aspirations as well. The dark-haired harridan told the tall Saiyan in loud words and gestures that he was staying home, end of story.

Vegeta watched the small woman bullying her husband with disbelief. "Why doesn't he just blast her?" he wanted to know.

Trunks and Piccolo exchanged a glance. "Goku is the most gentle, kind-hearted person," Piccolo ignored the gagging noises from the small prince as he continued, "that I have ever met," he finished with his teeth clenched. Though he would rather be tortured for days on end before he admitted it, the Nameckian almost agreed with Vegeta. Almost.

"Pathetic," the little prince snorted. "Lets go."

So both Goku and Goten with identical hangdog expressions, waved goodbye to Bulma, Trunks, Vegeta and Piccolo. Only Trunks returned their wave as they blasted off, Bulma in her small plane and the rest flying under their own power. Gohan flew back to school and peace once again descended on Chi-Chi's domain.

They arrived at the big corporation without incident. Vegeta eyed the buildings, unimpressed. "Primitive," he sniffed. Bulma hurried off to find her father, leaving Trunks and Vegeta in Piccolo's care.

"Where is my room?" the prince asked Trunks

"This way!" He scampered down one long hall and turned a corner. Vegeta followed more sedately with Piccolo not a step behind.

"Why are you following me?" Vegeta snapped, his tail lashing from side to side.

"What are you up to?" Piccolo asked, his tone saying clearly that he doubted very much that Vegeta could be trusted to behave.

"None of your business!" Vegeta retorted. "What do you think I am, one of these pathetic human beings?"

"Hurry up!" Trunks called down the hallway.

"No, I will never make that mistake," Piccolo replied, trying to keep his cool. It seemed that younger Vegeta was just as good as the older version for getting under Piccolo's green skin.

As if sensing his thoughts, the little prince continued. "If you are worried about me purging this pathetic mudball, you can stop. Now that Freiza is dead, I have other fish to fry."

"What do you mean?" Piccolo asked, trying not to sweat. Other fish?

"Here!" Trunks announced from an open doorway.

For the first time, Piccolo saw Vegeta's room. It didn't have much to say about its occupant. No pictures adorned the walls. Everything was simple, straightforward and neat. Vegeta raised an eyebrow. "This is my room?" He didn't sound impressed, but then the prince had yet to be impressed by anything so far.

Piccolo stayed in the doorway with his arms folded as Trunks opened the closet door. "I think all your clothes are too big for you," he said. "I'll get some of mine, they should fit."

Vegeta ran a jaundiced eye over Trunks' jeans and Capsule Corp sweatshirt. "The height of fashion I'm sure," he sneered. "Is there any workout suits in there?"

Trunks was not put off by Vegeta's attitude. "Yeah, of course!" he beamed. Vegeta fascinated Trunks. As an adult, the Saiyan prince was habitually reserved, preferring to keep everyone at a distance, including his son, who worshipped his father. But this younger version of Vegeta was less intimidating, and Trunks found himself more and more fascinated. Trunks ducked around Piccolo and tore down to his own room, leaving Vegeta and Piccolo alone.

Ignoring the Nameckian, Vegeta looked the room over. He approached a dresser and opened a drawer, peering inside. Methodically, he took out each and every item in the drawer and inspected it. He repeated this performance with each drawer in the dresser.

Piccolo got the impression that he was looking for something specific. Then he moved to the closet. He eyed the clothing with a mixture of interest and disgust. "I wear this stuff?" he asked.

Piccolo snorted. "Usually you wear your workout clothes. But rumor has it that you have been seen in something more casual from time to time."

Vegeta shot a glare at Piccolo and turned back to the closet, digging through some shoeboxes, muttering to himself. Apparently not finding what he was looking for, with the agility of the monkey that his race so closely resembled, climbed to the high shelf at the top of the closet. There were some rustling sounds, then a muffled 'ah-ah!'. Vegeta jumped back down, falling into a graceful crouch before straightening.

Piccolo leaned forward to see what Vegeta was holding. It was a small circular white object with a red-tinted lens attached at a ninety-degree angle. Piccolo recognized it immediately.

"A scouter?" he asked.

The prince smirked. "Very good, whatever you are," he said smugly as he fitted it over his ear, the lens covering his left eye.

Piccolo gritted his teeth. "I am a Nameckian, and my name is Piccolo," he said in a dangerous tone…

…which Vegeta ignored. "Whatever," he answered as he tapped the control panel on the earpiece. Lines of symbols in a foreign language scrolled across the tiny screen.

"Why do you have a scouter?" Piccolo asked, still ticked off. "You haven't needed one for years."

Vegeta looked up, symbols still flowing. "I haven't? Then how do you know if there are strong warriors around?"

"You do it by sensing their ki," Piccolo said, not bothering to keep the smugness out of his voice. The little shit wasn't so great as he thought he was.

Vegeta took off the scouter. "Sensing their ki?" He closed his eyes. A few seconds later, he smirked. "That's how it's done, huh?"

Piccolo drew a breath. Dammit, he should have known!

The individual who had coined the phrase 'Monkey see, monkey do' must have had Vegeta in mind. The Saiyan prince had the uncanniest ability to see something done once, and do it himself without mistakes. That ugly fusion dance had taken Goku months to learn, and Trunks and Goten an entire afternoon of diligent practice. But Vegeta watched Goku demonstrate it once, then got it right on the second try.

Piccolo had long figured that that was how the Saiyan prince had the most varied arsenal of all the Z fighters. Vegeta had seen hundreds of different fighting techniques over the years, and had incorporated the most devastating into his own repertoire. Fighting Vegeta more than once, or even once meant that you invariably found yourself on the receiving end of your own types of attacks.

But Vegeta was saying something else, interrupting Piccolo's musings. "But it's more than just an ordinary scouter."

Just then Trunks bursting into the room, arms loaded with clothes before Piccolo could question. "Here you go, father!"

Vegeta scowled. "Don't call me that," he snapped. "My name is Vegeta."

Cocking his head to one side, Trunks blinked. "You don't want me to call you father?" he asked.

"I'm younger than you!" Vegeta growled, his tail lashing in agitation. "I'm not even old enough to father a kid yet." Taking a deep breath he glared at Trunks. "As the prince of the Saiyans, I am ordering you to call me Vegeta, got it?"

"Sure!" Trunks answered cheerfully. This was so cool! Then he held up the clothes he brought. "Here, try this on."

Later, dressed in jeans and running shoes, but keeping his Furious George t-shirt, Vegeta accompanied Trunks on a tour of Capsule Corporation. Trunks showed him the gravity room, the kitchen, the Capsule Corp space ship and various other places of interest.

Throughout, Piccolo hovered nearby, keeping watch. It became apparent that Vegeta wasn't up to anything overtly sinister. But Piccolo still didn't trust the small prince.

Then Bulma called them into the small, temporary lab. Dr. Briefs was still bedridden, so the blue-haired woman explained that it might be a while before they would be able to return Vegeta to normal. She turned to Piccolo. "I want you to take care of Trunks and Vegeta for a few days. After all, you did such a good job with Trunks and Goten during the Buu Incident."

Piccolo turned an interesting shade of puce. "WHAT!? No way!"

"That's a great idea!" Trunks exclaimed. Vegeta sneered.

"It sure is!" Bulma agreed cheerfully. "This way, I can oversee the rebuilding of Capsule Corp and get a start on the Regenerator Ray without worrying about what they might be getting into. Besides, its not as if you have anything better to do, isn't that right, Piccolo?" She leveled a dangerous look at the former Demon prince, who sweatdropped.

"Uh..." he said intelligently.

"Good! Its settled then," Bulma gave Piccolo a victory sign. She turned to Trunks and Vegeta. "Now you two go get packed. And have fun." She grinned and walked away.

Piccolo put a hand over his eyes and groaned. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he swore he could hear Kami chuckle. Nail as usual had nothing to add.

TBC