Ha, bet you didn't expect to see me again, so soon. But I have surprises—and like I said before, we're in the stretch here. Be sure you vote for my next project, unless you just don't care.
*-----------*-----------*
I stop, staring at him. The light is falling from behind him, shadowing his face while highlighting his build. It flashes through his hair, lighting it on fire. I realize that I'm gaping at him, but I can't stop. He's… beautiful. All I can see is a Greek god, a macho man, a sizzling beefcake, not Vegeta the Saiyan asshole.
"Can't you even rescue your woman right?" Vegeta snarls, stepping into the clinic and the moment is gone – only the sour prince with a cold heart is left. I snap out of my trance, and glance down at Yamcha's hands. They're shaking like a wet kitten.
"Yamcha?" I murmur. "What's wrong?"
He looks up at me then. "I didn't think we'd find you," he whispers, his hands falling still as he meets my eyes. They're dark with emotion, full of anger, hate, relief – too much feeling swirls madly through them, a whirlpool of emotions. "I wanted so bad to know you're safe, and now all I can think is I don't deserve this."
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Vegeta snaps, jumping to my other side. "Just break the damn straps if you can't undo them!" He grasps the strap just below the buckle, and jerks it out of the bed. I gasp in an automatic reaction, instinctively sure that a motion like that will hurt, but he is so quick and precise that my arm barely moves.
Yamcha stares dumbly at me and then his gaze drops to his hands, which are still shaking. "Some part of me didn't want to find you," he mutters, shaking his head. "Then I wouldn't have to face you."
Vegeta snarls and strides around the bed, pushing Yamcha out of the way. He pulls the other strap out, and yanks me off the table, pushing me at Yamcha. "Get her out of here!"
"Yamcha, please," I moan, reaching for him, nearly overwhelmed by all that is happening.
"No, you can't trust me," Yamcha murmurs, backing away from us; my hands drop.
"If you don't get her out of here, then you will have killed her," Vegeta growls, pushing me toward him again. As limp as a doll, I let him push me, but I'm afraid of this stranger before me, this dark man who looks like my Yamcha, but is not. My Yamcha would save me, fly away with me, pressing me to his chest to keep me safe.
Yamcha steps forward and grabs me, and I flinch. He stares at me, horror in his eyes, before he begins to pull me out of the room. "Finally," Vegeta snarls, frustration evident in his voice. "Get her home."
"See her here, on her home…"
"You saved me, Vegeta," I whisper, my voice shaking with shock. "Before in the cave. You saw me at home."
He won't look at me. His voice is thick and harsh as he says again, "Get her out of here. Battle is no place for someone as weak as her."
Yamcha pulls me away, his hard arms that once comforted only bruising as he drags me out of the hole in the wall. I can't fight him; I'm far too weak, and frankly, what I see outside makes me only too happy to go home.
The twisted, blasted remains of a massive spaceship lie in tattered remains on the ground. Someone has put a lot of holes in it – actually, I suspect that it was several friends of mine.
Yamcha picks me up and starts to fly away. I cling to him, aware that I don't want to be rescued by him, but more aware that staying here would be dangerous. We clear the edge of the ship when I chi blast rises out of the rumble, flying at us.
Yamcha starts to dodge, but he's too slow. I know that it's going to hit us, but Vegeta appears in front of us, his arms outstretched to catch it. How he managed to refract that massive blast, I'll never know, but he saves us. "Lower, you idiot!" he howls at Yamcha. "Stay lower!" Then he shoots off where the blast came from, disappearing behind the towering rubble.
Yamcha drops into a spin that leaves my stomach behind, but he does get lower, skimming the ground as the battle fades behind us. After a moment, I tug on his shirt. "Stop!" I shout over the hissing wind. "We're far enough!"
He jerks to a stop, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from chewing him out for that abusive halt. "Put me down," I demand, and he wordlessly drifts to the ground and puts me on my feet. I promptly drop into a crouch, putting myself as close to the ground as I can without lying flat on it.
"What the hell is going on?" I ask him, looking up at those shadowed eyes.
"I'm rescuing you," his answer is simple, and not completely true. I narrow my eyes at him, a danger signal he should be well aware of by now. "What?"
"What was all that crap about not being trustworthy or wanting to face me?" I snap, frowning at him, angry beyond reason that he's even trying to dissemble to me.
He turns away from me, staring at the forest floor, sighing. "I tried to stop Vegeta from taking you that night," he murmured after a long moment.
"I know. You've already told me about that," I say, restraining my temper, trying to coax the answer out of him.
"And you know that he's stronger than me," Yamcha said.
"So?"
Yamcha rolls his eyes, and growls, "For a genius, you can be pretty dim. How in the world could I hurt him as badly as I did?"
I start to answer, then realize that I didn't know. "I guessed he was hurt enough that you got lucky," I finally admit. "I never thought to ask. I don't care, really."
He looks at me sharply, his eyes searching me for something. "You don't care that I nearly killed him?"
"Of course I care!" I shout. "He's my friend! But he's fine, apparently!"
"Your friend," Yamcha snorts, laughing mirthlessly. "That's rich. Vegeta's friend."
"Right now, he's being nicer than you are!" I snap, pulling myself to my feet so that I can glare at him better. "What the hell has gotten into you?"
"I couldn't stop Vegeta, but I could stop him from turning you over to them," Yamcha says, but it's so soft I have to strain to hear it. His eyes bore into me as he finishes, "Ask me how I planned to do that."
"Fine," I growl, throwing my hands into the air. "How did you plan to stop Vegeta, Yamcha?"
"I tried to kill you," he answers, and the world stops.
Then I burst into laughter. "Yamcha, get real," I say, shaking my head. "You couldn't do that. What did you really plan?"
He's silent, and the pressure builds. I stop chuckling and stop smiling after a time, too. His face is somber, and his eyes are dark with relief and fear.
"Yamcha, what did you plan?" I ask quietly.
He's just looking at me, and he finally just shrugs. "It seemed like a good idea at the time," he answers.
"Killing me seemed like a good idea?" I shriek. Almost without my permission, as if it has a will of its own, my fist slams into his face. His head doesn't move, and I'm left holding my hand, cursing in pain.
"Is this man bothering you, Ms. Briefs?" a cultured voice asks behind me. I spin to see another crystalline creature, bigger than the one who left me in the hospital. Then I remember where I've seen him – on a video screen three days ago.
"Montidulein," I gasp, and his face breaks into a large smile. He gives me a slight bow, but every action is mocking, not polite.
Yamcha is between us, moving too fast for me to see him. He bounds forward, but a chi blast from Montidulein throws him back into the mud. I dash to him, kneeling down – he's hurt, but already coughing and curling up on himself as I reach him. "Run," he moans. "I'll hold him as long as I can."
"You can't, my dear boy," the alien answers. "Calcastians are notorious for their ability to fight using chi. I can remove a fly from a leaf, or destroy a city."
"Or you could just talk us to death," a dry voice answers to the side, and we all turn to see Vegeta drop to the ground. He's dirty and scuffed, but he looks good considering the last time I really saw him he was unconscious in a hospital. He doesn't look at Yamcha, but it is clear that he's addressing him when he says, "I thought I told you to take her home."
"Now who's talking us to death?" Montidulein scowls. "I knew monkeys could chatter endlessly, but this is ridiculous! Shall we fight instead?"
Vegeta drops into a fighting stance, a wide grin covering his face. "Gladly."
"But first," Montidulein says, "let's clear the board." He points his hand at me, and I watch in horror as it glows briefly with chi before flaring out at me in a fiery column of death. I close my eyes, not wanting that to be the last thing I see.
