Part 3:
Black-lined lips turned up at their corners in a slight gesture of amusement, almost a smile. Dark eyes narrowed as a white hand brushed across the screen, the only light in the room. He watched the young prince and took in the look on the man's face when he glared at their newest slave girl. /He wants her as his mate,/ he realized, interpreting the prince's expression. A cruel smirk replaced the half-smile as an idea dusted itself off in the corner of his mind. /This should prove more than interesting to the king. Especially since the girl is HIS./
With a short chuckle, he eased out of the chair and turned his languid steps toward the hallway leading to the labs. He'd need the logs for this. He could hear the scattering of the guards even before the door fully opened and the smirk became even more pronounced. For once, he wasn't thinking about killing off his own soldiers. His aim was much higher.
/I think I'll play with the monkeys a little more before I exterminate them,/ he thought almost cheerfully. /And that girl can be quite useful to me. All she needs is a little information./ Passing men who dared to look at him could swear he was almost dancing with glee. /Then her friends will kill off the prince and everyone else who gets in their way. I won't have to do a damned thing and my problem will be solved anyway./
With that thought in mind, he continued down the empty corridor, hands behind his back and tail dragging. He pressed his hand to the entrance pad and smirked again. This was so much more entertaining than doing it himself. And it took a little more creativity. /This time, I guess I have to thank them. My way./
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He didn't know how it happened. One minute she was laying there, eyes closed and even peaceful-looking and the next she was up tearing around the room with papers, sheets and chunks of wood flying everywhere. The doctor jumped up and scowled, disintegrating everything that headed in his general direction before he could see Bulma. The blue-haired woman was currently half-under the bed. Then she popped out with several swears and yanked the blankets off, tossing them behind her before trying to move the offending objects that kept her from checking behind the bed.
He finally seized her wrists and pinned them to her sides before shoving her down on the bed. By some strange instinct, he didn't let go. "Woman, WHAT the hell are you doing? You're still recovering, and there is no need to overexert yourself like that!"
Bulma bristled and glared at him, almost in Vegeta's category. But the doctor -- whose name she still hadn't figure out -- only glared back. And he WAS in Vegeta's category, only intimidating too. Finally she just snorted. "Where is it?" she finally demanded.
The Saiyan blinked in confusion. "Where is what?" He could see that she was getting geared up again and growled, getting her attention. "I asked you a question, woman."
"Yeah, well I asked one too," she shot back, wiggling in his grip. She tried to fix her clothes while his fingers dug into her skin and eventually she gave up for fear of breaking something important. Like her entire arm. "You really don't know, do you?" she realized, twisting uncomfortably to look at him.
"Woman, if I did, I would tell you," he stated calmly, easing his grip as he noticed her hand was turning blue. "I don't have any reason not to."
"My sketchbook," she informed him, shaking hair out of her face. "The one with the note to Vegeta." Then she studied him as she saw the slight widening of his eyes. And it wasn't from the lack of the prince's title.
The Saiyan shook her arm. "Should I let you go?" he inquired, seeing that the coloring hadn't gotten any better.
Bulma looked down and saw the matching color of her hair, eyes and hand. "Are you about to tell me something I won't like?" After a moment of consideration, he nodded. "Then hang on," she said grimly.
With that warning in mind, he took half a step back. "Prince Vegeta has it," he said softly. Bulma went rigid, eyes wide. "I told him about the comments and he--" All of a sudden he knew why she'd told him to hold on. If he hadn't, everything that wasn't nailed down would've flown to the other wide of the room. Express delivery. And she couldn't use ki. He shivered to think what she could do with it.
Bulma actually tore one arm out of his grip and whirled around to face him. "WHY did you let that little son of a bitch have it?" she growled dangerously. "That has EVERYTHING in it! EVERYTHING!" She pounded her free hand on his chest. Amazingly enough, he felt it.
"Woman," he began, recapturing her fist. That sent her completely off the deep end.
"And my NAME is BULMA!" she screamed, delivering a kick to his inner thigh. He'd only just avoided it making contact with a more sensitive area. "Not that he's gonna care after reading it." Her voice had dropped to a hiss again. "He'll know every other nickname I've had."
"Woman, CALM DOWN!" he yelled over her. Bulma glared at him, mouth open. Transferring her wrists to one hand, he clamped the other over her mouth and leaned in closer. "There's nothing you can do about it now, woman," he growled. "The most you can do is go to Prince Vegeta and ask for it back. I highly doubt that he can understand it anyway because he considers it below him to learn to read the native language of the slaves."
When he was sure she wouldn't blow up, he slowly removed his hand. Bulma wet her lips and looked at him, then down at herself. "I'm better now," she promised. He raised a skeptical eyebrow and she grinned. "Really. PMS isn't TOTALLY in control yet."
The Saiyan snorted and shook his head. "Don't act like that in front of the prince," he warned. "You won't live through it."
"You say that like it's a bad thing," she muttered, then eyed him. "By the way, where IS he?"
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Trying to ignore both the pacing of the impatient Saiyan and the hairs rising on the back of his neck, he cocked his head, then turned the paper 90º, looked at it, turned it the other way, then did a 180 and stared at it upside down. Finally he took it over to a mirror and glared at the papers with hatred. Finally he threw them down on the desk and turned to face the other occupant of the room.
"I don't know, sire," he said, frustrated. "It's some sort of code, but I can't read it let alone break it."
Vegeta growled and trekked over to the slightly torn documents and focused on the sketch. He couldn't read anything, but he had a pretty good idea of what it could be. Now all he had to do was wait for the slave to wake up. The thought irritated him. /I'm the prince of all Saiyans,/ he snapped at himself. /I shouldn't have to rely on some HUMAN slave woman./ Then he turned his scowl on Bardock, who was trying to interpret the writing.
The sounds of a lock being rewired met the men's ears and the prince scowled. Crossing his arms, he glared at Bulma as she marched in the door, clearly not happy. "Woman, when will you stop doing that?"
"When you stop calling me 'woman' and use my given name AND when you give me the codes so I don't have to." Then whatever respect she had in her tone dropped. "Where the hell is my notebook?"
Vegeta smirked and tapped his armor. Bulma's eyes narrowed and she held out her hand. "I'm not finished with it yet, woman," the prince declared and she rolled her eyes.
"What would his royal pain in the ass want with a servant's sketchpad?" she asked slyly. "And more importantly, why would he want to read it?"
"Such things are below my interest, woman," he said royally, which earned him a snort. "What are you implying by that?" He glanced over at Bardock, who had the paper up to the light, his back to them and half in front of the mirror.
"So then that ass over there" -- she jerked her thumb toward Bardock, who seemed oblivious -- "is standing there with one of my papers, holding it upside down in a mirror and trying to read it backwards is doing it for his health." Vegeta snarled and Bulma smirked at him. "I thought that my inventions, and I QUOTE, 'were not beneficial to the Saiyan empire.' Liar."
Vegeta picked her up by the sleeves of her shirt and pinned her against the wall above him, expression dangerous. Bulma bit back a cry and opened her eyes when no further pain made itself known. The prince seemed to be fighting with himself. Finally he glared up at her and let her go. She dropped to the floor in an ungraceful heap as he stalked over to Bardock and ripped the pages from his hands. She could feel his power rise and noted that he'd finally swallowed his pride and read the notes. /Too bad he didn't choke and die on it./
The Saiyan dumped the documents in her lap. "Read them," he hissed. Bulma glared at him and deliberately ripped the papers in two, then dropped them on the floor and stood, tearing them more and smearing the ink. Vegeta's eyes narrowed so he slammed them against his chest and shook her head. "I'll be in my room," she yelled over her shoulder as the warrior threw the useless things on the table. Bardock snatched them up as the door closed and Bulma gave her final comment. "You guys really are idiots."
The soldier carefully latched onto Vegeta's arm to keep him from going after her. "Prince Vegeta, look." The other Saiyan stared in concealed amazement as the jumble of letters/numbers started to make sense. At least to his eyes, since he still didn't know what it meant. Bardock grinned at him. "I can translate these for you now, sire."
Vegeta grunted and glared at the paperwork. "No. Get the brat ready. We'll be back in time for the full moon ceremony and I want him there for presentation. Otherwise he's useless."
Bardock nodded grimly. "He'd have to wait another 7 years. All that power wasted."
The prince scowled and glared at him. "That's why you're going to get going now, isn't it?"
The younger warrior nodded hastily, then bowed out. "Yes, sire."
Vegeta looked down at the intricate piecing together of the quarters. With a slight shrug he thoughtfully tucked them in beside Bulma's beloved notepad. They might be useful after all.
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"Come on, kid, hit me," he hissed, powering up a ball in his fist, the light shining on his grandson's bloody face. Gohan growled and went back into a defensive fighting stance, wiping the sticky fluid from his jaw with the back of his hand. Bardock chuckled and hurled the blast at him. Much to his surprise, Gohan batted it away and charged straight at the seasoned warrior.
Bardock stepped to the side, about to land another blow to his back when his young student twisted around and grabbed the man's shirt, then slammed his other hand, full with a ki blast, straight into the center of the Saiyan's chest. Bardock wheezed as he flew back and caught his balance after only a foot or so. But it was enough time for Gohan to recover and return to his defensive crouch once more.
The full-blooded Saiyan gingerly put a hand to his chest and winced, bringing his fingers away red. Then he looked at the boy in shock. Slowly, he smiled, which sent Gohan's arm up even more protectively.
Bardock chuckled and nodded, rubbing at his newly acquired wound.
"I have to say I'm impressed, kid. It isn't just any little run-of-the-mill brat who can lay a hand on me let alone leave me a memento." He grinned and inched closer before drawing into his own stance. "But you'll have to do better than that. You have three weeks to get in two year's worth of training." Gohan glared at him as he smirked, then without any signal, lunged again.
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She crossed her arms and sighed at the inevitable as she was first caught by the nape of her neck, growled at, then dragged to the small conference room at the other end of the lab. Stumbling when Vegeta threw her in, she noticed with some interest that the side wall had been fixed and refurnished after the last time she'd been in there.
Turning her cold glare to Vegeta, she scowled when he turned around. For once, he beat her to the punch. "Woman! Are you mad!" he growled, taking a step forward.
Bulma cocked an eyebrow. "I have no idea what the hell you're talking about," she answered calmly, leaning against the wall. Then out of the blue, her hormones kicked in. /Kami he looks cute when he's pissed./ Her mind was about to let that go when she shook her head in amazement. /Where the hell did THAT come from? He's VEGETA! He's not CUTE! He's ugly as sin with the personality of a wet mop AND a brick!/
The prince nearly rolled his eyes. "You're in heat, woman, and it's driving almost every man on this ship to the brink of insanity."
She looked at him coyly. "And how would YOU all know this?" she demanded.
"Any fool can smell it a mile away," he hissed, realized what he just said seconds before she picked up on it and continued. "And that's only a fool. Anyone more intelligent knows that the best time to take a mate is when she's in heat because her urge to fight back is more prominent."
Bulma just looked at him, then burst out laughing. "I don't believe this. The mighty prince of all Saiyans is giving me a lecture on PMS." She wiped tears from her eyes and grinned. "Thanks, Vegeta. I haven't laughed that hard in months."
Vegeta overlooked the missing rank and smirked. /I don't think she'll find this quite as funny./ He cleared his throat, getting her to look at him. "Until this passes you will be confined to your quarters."
She gaped at him and he smirked, fighting back a sudden urge to smile. "You're… you're GROUNDING me?" she asked in a tone of disbelief. "My PARENTS didn't even do that and once in a while I would actually LISTEN to them!" She crossed her arms. "No way in hell."
The prince smirked and leaned closer to whisper to her. "Well, woman, if you want a repeat of what almost happened in here with Turles then by all means proceed as usual." Bulma shivered at the memory and he drew away. "Will you stay in your quarters, woman?"
"If you give me my notebook," she replied, sitting back and crossing her arms.
"I don't think you're in a position to be bargaining, woman."
"Then you should think a little harder because if anything happens to me it's YOUR head the king'll want on a silver platter," she said with a grin. "So if you give me my sketchpad then I'll go to my room and be a good little girl." She extended her hand with a superior smirk.
Vegeta glared but started to reach inside his armor for the trouble-making book. He tossed it on her lap. "There, woman. Are you happy?"
"Better," she admitted. Then she looked at him from under her eyelashes. "Does this mean I get my own lab too?" Vegeta gawked at her, started muttering in Saiyan and slammed the door closed behind him. Bulma grinned and started to twiddle her thumbs. /What to do for a week./
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Vegeta sneered as he looked over the fallen soldiers. All except one was unconscious, and he was the only second-class guard sent to get him in a group of Elites. The prince growled and hoisted the sputtering man to his feet, then a little bit higher so that the tips of his boots dangled just above his own ankles. The Saiyan's eyes widened as Vegeta pulled him closer, smirking in triumph. The look he gave to the guard was the same one he usually reserved for the rare instances when he won a verbal debate with Bulma.
"What the hell were you thinking?" he demanded, shaking the terrified man. "Not only do I GIVE orders to you, all of the king's guards together couldn't have beaten me. So why do you even attempt?"
"Orders… from the king," he replied, rapidly turning several interesting shades of blue. Vegeta scowled but loosened his grip just enough for him to get enough air to continue. "About the slave woman…"
"What about her?" Vegeta hissed, baring his teeth and unconsciously letting his ki rise high enough for his captive to feel the heat. The Saiyan tried to gulp but found the gloved hand's grip too restraining. "Well?" The guard frantically motioned to his throat, eyes starting to glaze over. When he turned deep purple, Vegeta transferred his hand to the man's armor and the younger soldier gasped heavily.
Once he was sure he was able to breathe, he looked down at Vegeta. "She marked you sire…" His eyes and the prince's hand fell on the fading red mark standing out vividly against the pale skin. Black eyes turned dangerous in warning but the taller man didn't hesitate. "And it's forbidden to mate with a slave."
The guard suddenly found himself halfway through the wall and a furious Vegeta shoving him back even farther. "She's a human," he growled. "She doesn't know HOW to mark her mate, and even if she did, it wouldn't be me because I wouldn't LET her. I have no use for that infernal woman!" Vegeta realized he was beginning to ramble and scowled again, pulling back.
"The king doesn't know that," he said tiredly, trying to ignore the pain from his waist down, especially his tail. "He ordered her to be brought to the throne room." The prince was out of sight before he reached the ground.
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With a deep sigh, Bulma brushed her aqua hair behind her ear and looked back at the computer screen fondly. A picture of Yamcha that had unknowingly been tucked in her jeans pocket was now displayed as the screen saver. Ever since she'd been confined to her room she'd been thinking more and more about her late boyfriend. She winked at the computer and traversed the room to plop down on the bed in boredom. It wasn't even like she could surf the net anymore, as the net didn't exist in Saiyan technology. A wry smile touched her lips at the thought as she curled up on her side and took one last look at the picture.
"Night Yamcha," she muttered with a yawn, even though the ship's lights were still on at full. No sooner had she closed her eyes than a buzzer went off from one of the various search engines she'd installed her first day. With a groan, Bulma pulled herself off the bed and growled at the red stain left behind. /Well, what's a woman to do with no supplies?/
"Wakey wakey," she told the computer, tilting the chair back onto two legs. It instantly skipped to the screen with the information. Eyes wide, Bulma gaped at the detail. Then she grinned. "This looks important," she said in a little kid voice, maniac expression planted firmly on her face. "Like someone's logs. Oops." Copying and pasting the type into the memory where it automatically put a password to it, she cleared the page and ran a hand through her hair confidently. "Lycos, sit and stay. *I* can go get it." She reread the top words to herself. "Namek dragonballs. I am SO good!"
As soon as the last syllable was out of her mouth, the door burst open, which left Bulma on the floor in surprise. She glared at the approaching Saiyans. /Wow. Three. Should that be a compliment?/ Now she was on her feet, arms crossed and doing a decent imitation of Vegeta's detached and annoyed stare.
"Come on, woman," the guy she assumed to be the leader said, beckoning for her to get closer.
Bulma snorted. /Right. The last time a guy did that to me I got the living crap kicked out of me./ "Come where?" she demanded hotly.
"The king wishes to see you," he replied with a smirk, edging closer. That kicked her nerves into high gear and she glared from one man to another until finally she shrugged and leaned against the wall. "NOW, woman. He doesn't like to wait."
"Yeah, well I don't like to see his ugly mug either," she growled back. "I see it everyday, only with Vegeta there's an annoying VOICE to go with it. And don't even get me STARTED on his attitude."
That made them pause long enough for Bulma to click off the monitor and shut down the computer. Finally the leader pulled himself together and started toward her. "The king and the prince will deal with that, woman." He obviously didn't know what a mug meant or she would be in much more pain that usual about then. She ducked under his incoming arm and went straight for his tail. The simple technique of nails and teeth applied on Turles had the same effect on the guard.
Bulma kept a stranglehold on the Saiyan's extra appendage while trying to make sure she could see both of his partners. They looked at each other, nodded, and went to opposite sides of her. She growled, sending another wave of pain through the doubled-over man she held hostage.
The one on her left lunged and she sunk into a kneel, swiping at his knees as he rolled to his feet. When he grunted and fell, she realized that she'd miscalculated and aimed too high. Without hesitation she grabbed his tail as well and held them in one hand while glaring at the last man. He looked more than a bit surprised, then scowled and looked over the position of his comrade and Bulma. Then he blinked out of view.
"Damn," she swore as she tried to feel his energy. Too late she realized he was at her side. Bulma never saw the blow coming.
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With a loud grunt, Bulma was thrown to all fours in front of the king. She rose to her knees to dust herself off when a strong Saiyan hand clamped down on the back of her neck and pushed her to the floor. The guard knelt beside her, lowering his head in respect to his superior. Bulma growled but knew better than to try and shake him loose. That and the power radiating from the shadows was enough to knock her over.
"This is the one, sire," he said quietly, looking at the scientist out of the corner of his eye.
The king raised an eyebrow cockily. "The one who hates him so?"
He rose and Bulma suddenly got a sinking feeling in her stomach. She clenched her fists on the red carpet and gritted her teeth as he moved closer. The Saiyan snatched her by her hair and yanked her to her feet. Bulma yelped when some of the longer strands came loose in his gloves. The king smirked and she scowled through the slight pain and slapped at his hand.
"Don't touch me," she hissed, jerking her head away. He made a show of opening his hand and taking a step back. She pushed her now messed-up hair back into place and crossed her arms. The moment she did, he grabbed her around the throat and lifted her over his head. Bulma went white and brought her arms up to take the pressure off of her chin. /Well, at least hard work has one advantage,/ she thought dryly, knowing that six months ago she wouldn't have been strong enough to hold her own weight like this.
"And don't give me orders, wench," he said calmly, tightening his fist. Bulma made a choking sound, but no verbal comment. The king looked over at the impassive guard. "Get the whip."
Bulma's eyes widened and she finally started to struggle. The only time she'd been unlucky enough to encounter the whip was her first attempt at escape, and she wasn't particularly looking forward to a second meeting. Blue eyes swinging about wildly, she finally paused and looked down. Her feet dangled just above her favorite target. With a grunt, she allowed herself to dip down just low enough for her to kick him.
The king looked a bit dazed, black eyes unfocused. She took the opportunity to do it again and felt his hand loosen. Praying to Kami, Bulma forced his fingers open and dropped the last foot to the ground. The whip flashed inches in front of her and the scientist reeled back onto the injured Saiyan. She yelped again as the tip came nearer and jumped back over the groaning king, hiding herself behind his bulk.
The guard started to circle, whip in hand as Bulma stayed low and close to the king. The other Saiyan wasn't stupid enough to hit his leader, yet he wasn't quite smart enough to just move faster than she could see. /Must be a rookie./ She swallowed thickly when the king started to recover and rolled over. Bulma closed her eyes when the Saiyan got to his feet and started toward her. The breeze from a missed blow swept back her hair and she slowly opened one eye to see why it hadn't connected.
Vegeta was standing calmly with his father's fist cradled between his arm and side. The older man was obviously trying to free his hand because he kept jerking and growling threats. Bulma would bet her life that the prince was smirking. Finally he moved his arm and the king stumbled back, glaring at his son in amazement. The guard dropped the whip in surprise and Bulma back up anyway so she rested against a pillar, one corner of her mouth quirked upward.
"What is this about?" Vegeta demanded, spitting off to the side before glaring at the still shocked Saiyan.
The older man finally composed himself and snarled. "You're mating with a low-class, pitiful excuse for a SLAVE, brat!"
Bulma tensed indignantly. "Why you arrogant, conceited, overconfident, inflated, self-centered, pompous, boastful, self-magnifying, cocky, presumptuous, brazen little prick!"
Vegeta cocked an eyebrow at her. "Only that?" he huffed with a roll of his eyes.
"There are virgin ears around," Bulma explained, motioning to the onlooking/gaping guard.
The prince snorted and turned his attention to the infuriated king. "Why would *I*, a Saiyan prince, mate with such a weak and highly ANNOYING woman?" he demanded, crossing his arms as he waited for the blue-haired woman to comment.
"Yeah," Bulma chipped in, glaring at both royal men. As if on cue, both raised an eyebrow, the only difference in their expressions being the king's beard. "Knock it off! I don't need TWO of you looking at me like that!" She smirked and slowly got to her feet. "This is all about me biting him, right?" She pulled on one side of her shirt, then the other to reveal her bare neck. "And from what I understand, he has to bite me back. Hasn't happened, not GONNA happen."
"Agreed," Vegeta muttered, though he did eye curiously. He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "Now that you have seen how absolutely idiotic this all is, BOTH of us have work to do." With that, the prince grabbed Bulma by the arm and hauled her down the carpet. The alien woman sighed in relief and sagged against the now closed door. "THAT was unpleasant." She barely had time to look up when Vegeta was standing in front of her, looking fit to kill. "What?"
"Woman, what the hell were you THINKING?"
"Who's the guy in the corner with a power level equivalent to my entire planet," she replied automatically. The Saiyan's eyes went wide and Bulma took the opportunity to continue. "That and why you suddenly came to save me."
"Because of this," Vegeta answered, pulling a folded model out of his armor. Her jaw dropped as he set up the object on his palm and held it out for her to see.
/No WAY,/ she repeated to herself. /How did he figure that out? How did he figure out which papers ripped which way? And what does that stupid machine have to do with him?/ Bulma closed her mouth and wet her lips before slowly reaching for the model. "How…"
Vegeta smirked and retracted his hand just as her fingertips brushed the sides of the paper. "After two or three pieces, it started to look like a puzzle, woman. It was fairly easy for even a Saiyan toddler to do." His smirk broadened as she took all of this information in and returned to doing her impression of a landed fish. "Especially since children are often given puzzles to strengthen their mind."
"So how did you get all the sides?" Bulma wondered out loud. "I only showed you one."
"I made copies, woman. I'm not as stupid as you think I am. And I know THAT is saying something."
Seeing that this battle was somehow going downhill, Bulma tried one more shot. "Yeah, well. You never would've figured it out if I hadn't shown you."
That was where Vegeta's mouth started to twitch until it curved into his cold victory smile. "Your mistake." He smirked once more before turning toward his quarters.
Bulma sulked as she turned toward her own room, then suddenly straightened. "Hey! He never answered me about the dude in the corner." She debated chasing the prince but decided that one defeat was enough for the day.
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In the shadows, Frieza was nearly hopping up and down in silent rage. /That little ASSHOLE!/ he thundered to himself. /How could that stupid monkey weasel his way out of that? It was written all over his face and that blind BASTARD lets him walk away!/ His tail slapped against the wall as he tried to force himself to calm down. Taking deep breaths, he scowled and narrowed his eyes at the Saiyan king. /No matter. I will have him, then the rest of the empire will simply fall into my hands. I just need the little PRINCE away from his goddamned father./ Then he slowly smirked and straightened to his full (yet short) height. /I will lead the woman to Namek. He will surely follow then. After that, this will be so simple./
With a scowl, he stepped out of the shadows, hands behind his back. The Saiyan rose and greeted him silently with a slight bow. "You were right, Lord Frieza," he commented quietly, offering his throne to the other ruler. "There's just no way to PROVE it!"
The smaller alien looked up at the other man. "Perhaps getting away from the planet would lower his defenses a little," he suggested casually, unwilling to show how much he NEEDED Vegeta away from other Saiyans.
The king stiffened. As much as he feared Frieza, there was no way he was letting the prince off Vegetasei without him. "Absolutely NOT!" he heard himself saying. "The prince causes enough mayhem on our planets as it is. I can only imagine what he would do ON them, and unsupervised!"
Frieza snorted, then saw the opportunity for what it was. Smirking to himself, he leaned on the armrest of the throne. "What if we sent him to a world NOT under your control?" /He can't resist that. Not if he still wants to be a part of the planet trade./
"I'll consider it," he said slowly, then turned his gaze on the doors. "I'm sorry for seeming in a rush, Lord Frieza, but I have a treaty signing in about 10 minutes. I would ask you to stay, but I think that it would bore you."
"Quite right," he growled, also knowing a dismissal when he heard one. Rising, the miniature warlord nodded to the king. "I also have things to do." The Saiyan bowed again and Frieza motioned to his own guard on the way out to call his ship. /Starting with that slave woman./
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"Aren't you finished yet woman?"
"O for the love of every god I've ever heard of," Bulma muttered as she stuck her head around the corner of her machine. "No you snobby, rich, persistent, spoiled, oblivious, delusional, stupid, bossy, tasteless, ugly, split-end-cactus-haired, stalky, dim, clueless, dense, obsessive, ignorant, pompous, self-righteous, self-gratifying, egotistical--"
"I see someone's been reading their dictionary," Vegeta said dryly, smirk dangerously close to a smile. "And a simple 'no' would have been sufficient."
"Your point?" She narrowed her eyes at him in a mockery of his usual scowl and crossed her arms in a decent impression of the Saiyan's common stance. "And since when have I taken the easy way out of things?"
He motioned to the shell of his new training center and smirked. "I want this done in three days."
Her lower jaw dropped to her knees. "You are SO not serious," she growled, shaking her head. "Not possible. After I build it, I have to make sure you're not just gonna blast the damn thing to Kingdom Come your first 30 seconds in there, program it, check for bugs, fix all those, recheck for bugs, fix THOSE, and all the while you're bitching at me to finish when I started yesterday. I DON'T THINK SO."
Vegeta was unimpressed. "How long will it take then, woman?"
Wiping her palms on her pants, she rolled her eyes back in her head as if the answer was written there. "Ballpark… about 6 months."
The prince snorted. "Unacceptable. Three days."
"Also unacceptable," she yelled, getting to her feet and brushing her hair back angrily. "If you want to train, then let me do this right. And even if you're ordering me to do it, none of my work is half-assed."
Inwardly, Vegeta smirked. /If I didn't know better, I would think she was Saiyan./ It was a refreshing change to have someone stand up to him, though he would rather blast himself into atom-sized particles than admit it. "That's where you're wrong, woman. ALL of your work is half-assed."
"Then why don't you get someone else to build the damn thing and leave me the hell alone?"
"Because I enjoy antagonizing you," he replied bluntly.
"Talk about someone reading the dictionary," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "I kinda figured THAT. But I also thought that if my inventions are so bad, why the hell are you interested? I DO remember you telling me that they don't benefit the Saiyan empire."
Vegeta shrugged carelessly. "They don't."
"So, only you, huh?" The murderous look he sent made her grin. "I thought that by now you would realize I'm not as stupid as you think I am. Which makes you stupider than I thought you were."
Surprisingly, the Saiyan let that one slide. Instead, he smirked and nodded toward the unfinished gravity chamber. "Get back to work woman."
"I can't with your royal ass in the room bitching about the fact that it's not finished despite the fact that you won't give me my plans and I have to do it from memory." Bulma crossed her arms and leaned against the machine. "Get the hell out." When the prince actually moved toward the door, Bulma started sliding off the side. "Where are you going?"
Smirking over his shoulder, Vegeta punched in the code. "To see Kakorrot's brat."
============================================
Bardock smirked as his grandson ducked under his fist but instead of aiming a blow toward his exposed stomach as even seasoned warriors would, Gohan grabbed the older Saiyan's fist and swung him into the wall, followed by a quick barrage of punches. /Not bad considering this is the first training he's had,/ Bardock thought to himself as he caught the half-breed's leg and propelled the boy toward the floor. Blasting up to an unusual power level, Gohan landed firmly on his feet and lashed out with his leg, tripping his grandfather.
Flipping backward to avoid the youngster's follow-up, Bardock nearly smiled. It wasn't often Saiyans lived long enough to see their offspring reach a high enough age to reproduce, and even less could see the generation after. From the reports, his son had been strong and now Kakorrot's hybrid brat had a power level almost as high as is father's had been when he died. /He'll be ready,/ the warrior thought smugly.
His thoughts were interrupted by Gohan's battle yell and a quick flash of ki from the other side of the room. Catching the overly-eager 5-year-old, he shook him. "Are you mad, brat? You're attacking the PRINCE."
"Let him," Vegeta said, amused, as he stepped fully into the room. "It will prepare him for his next training ground after the presentation." He gave a feral smile to Gohan, who only scowled in return. "I heard that your bastard nephew was going to send him off to Tirran for a few years or so to train. For once he had a good idea."
Bardock cocked an eyebrow but remained silent. Gohan growled and kicked back as hard as he could. It loosened the warrior's grip just enough for him to wiggle free and stood defiant in front of the prince. "You don't scare me," he said, crossing his arms.
The corner of Vegeta's mouth quirked upward just enough for the other Saiyan to notice and grabbed Bulma's adopted son by the front of his shirt and hefted him up to eye level. "I may not yet, brat," he said quietly, smirking. "But just wait until you're old enough to put some action behind your words." He dropped the half-breed and glanced to Bardock. "He's enough like his that gods-forsaken woman to know he'll challenge me one way or another. Try to train him out of that annoying habit."
"Of course, sire." Bardock smiled ever-so-slightly at his grandson as he got to his feet. The boy wasn't easy to scare or give up. He would make it on Tirran. "As soon as possible."
"I expect no less," Vegeta replied, narrowing his eyes at Gohan. /If I didn't know better, I would think he WAS related to the wench./ He mentally shook his head as thoughts of Bulma usually ended up driving him to distraction. "You better hope he knows what he's doing, brat. The presentation is only three days away."
"He has to know what he's doing. I know I'm stronger than most kids my age," Gohan replied, folding his arms across his chest, silently defying the prince.
"And where did you hear that?" Bardock was slightly amused and cracked part of a smile before swallowing it and replacing it with a typical Saiyan scowl.
"My mother told me."
Vegeta's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "When did that stupid woman come down here again? She could have gotten killed."
"I thought you didn't care," Gohan said slyly.
/That attitude HAS to go. And that wench has to stop visiting him before he picks up any more bad habits. One of her is enough in the universe./ He scowled and grabbed the little boy by the front of his shirt. "I only care until she finishes my training room, brat. After that she might want to be a little more careful since she will no longer be under the protection of myself of my guards. Tell her that." Dropping the kid, he turned to Bardock, who was obviously trying not to laugh. "And I thought that you were going to train him out of that."
"I can't with you in the room, sire," Bardock answered with a quick bow. "He'll want to attack you instead of listening to me. And it's not like he listens to me all that well to begin with."
"Tirran will fix that problem as well," Vegeta replied dismissively. "If he survives anyway." Before Gohan could comment, he narrowed his eyes at Bardock. "It's just as well. I have to finalize the preparations for the full moon festival." He smiled dangerously. "I convinced the king to put me in charge of the entertainment. Find me two of your weakest warriors and one who is exceptionally strong." Without waiting for further comment, the prince disappeared.
============================================
Nappa tried to glare down the doctor, but since he was nowhere near Vegeta's league it didn't go past the fact that the other Saiyan noticed his attempt. And his intimidation skills were pale in comparison to Bulma's. The older man smiled and sat on the table instead of leaning against it to make sure he wasn't hitting the soldier.
"I told you once, and I'll tell you again, I'm not letting him out of that tank until my orders say to." He smiled again at the warrior's obvious frustration. "Though I think I could leave you alone for a few minutes while I go back to check on some other patients."
Nappa raised an eyebrow, then his eyes widened as the meaning of the Saiyan's words penetrated his thick bald skull. He nodded, one corner of his mouth curved upward in a half-smirk. "Yeah, you could. I'll be fine."
"Don't break anything while I'm gone," he advised, slipping down off the other side of the table.
"What kind of idiot do you think I am?" Nappa growled, then narrowed his eyes seconds after he asked it. "Don't say a word."
The other man shrugged. "A word." He grinned and turned his back on the warrior, picking up his clipboard as he went by. The soldier rolled his eyes and turned back to the regeneration tanks.
Walking down the row until he found the one where his partner was being held, he looked over the stats on the screen next to the tank, he blinked in surprise. "Only 30%, huh? What the hell does Zucco(¹) think he's doing?" Nappa tapped the button that started draining the fluid and stepped back.
Turles didn't look much better than he did before he went in. The bruises were gone, but it was evident someone deliberately beat the hell out of him. The younger warrior opened his eyes as the water level dipped just under his knees. He tapped on the glass and ripped the mask off without waiting for Nappa's clearance. /Just goes to show how many times he's been in there,/ Nappa thought dryly. /He could probably tell when it's safe to come out in his sleep./
Turles shook his hair out of his eyes with a scowl and stepped out of the tank. Looking over himself, he shook his head with a growl. "Look at me! By the gods I look just as bad as I did yesterday!"
"Turles, you went in there almost a week ago," Nappa informed him, crossing his arms darkly.
The other Saiyan's eyes nearly dropped out of his head. "But… how… why… I…" He groaned and put a hand to his head. Looking at his friend, he scowled. "So why am I out now?"
"Because Zucco's in the back and I wanted to talk to you," Nappa replied simply. He narrowed his eyes. "Why were you in there for a week?"
Turles glared at him. "Considering I had no idea I'd been in there more than 24 hours, forgive me for not knowing," he growled sarcastically.
"Not standard days," Nappa muttered, rolling his eyes. "I mean regular days. Planet days."
At that the younger man had to lean against the side of the tank. "That means we only have… we dock tomorrow!" He sagged even more and shook his head. "And I look like THIS." He looked up and grinned. "I think I'll kill ol' Zucco for this."
"Don't bother, it wasn't his choice," Nappa said thoughtfully. "The prince ordered you to be kept like this. Gods only know why."
"Do you think he was planning on letting me out tomorrow night?"
"How am I supposed to know? Probably." He crossed his arms, scowling. "We ARE talking about Vegeta's mindset here."
Turles chuckled. "You're right."
He was about to continue when Zucco's voice floated out to them. "All right, I think I'm done here, but let me go check my chart one more time."
Nappa nodded to his partner. "That would be your cue." He motioned toward the tank grandly with one hand, scowling.
"So what happens if Zucco sees me out of my room?" he asked with a grin.
"He'll make sure you stay grounded," Nappa muttered, shoving Turles back. When the Saiyan growled, he tapped the button that sent the water rushing in plus added enough of the healing solution to get him up to
50% healed by the next day. Nappa grinned at the murderous look Turles sent him before the sedatives started to take over. "See you at the festival," he said cheerfully.
Zucco entered the room, head buried in his notes. When Nappa cleared his throat, he looked up with a smile. "And I see that everything is still in one piece. Would you like a treat for that?"
The warrior snorted. "I don't see why I spend my time around here anyway."
"Well, what did you come for?" Zucco put his paperwork aside and stuck the pencil behind his ear.
"Ah… here." Digging in his armor, he was surprised he remembered that there had actually been a reason for his visit. "Something from the woman."
"O, yes, Bulma." He looked down at the paper and grinned even wider. "Fantastic. Now I might figure out how to work those damn things."
"I'm not even going to ask."
Zucco shrugged indifferently. "Fine with me. If you don't have any other business here, get out of my infirmary. I have work to do and you're not helping me do it."
"Gladly," Nappa grunted, shaking his head. "Next time she's delivering this herself. I'm an Elite warrior, not a freaking messenger boy."
As the door hissed closed behind him, Zucco peered at the stats next to Turles' tank. With a shake of his head, he left the changed amounts of solution as they were. "I hope he knows what he's doing."
(¹)Zucco -- zucchini, just in case you were wondering
============================================
Vegeta cocked an eyebrow at Bulma's hesitation. His face grew even more intense as he tried to figure out why she wasn't happy to find out that Turles was going to be executed in traditional Saiyan style. /Stupid woman,/ he thought to himself with an inner roll of the eyes. /She can't even decide on her emotions./ Bulma glanced at him and he scowled. There wasn't much room for the prince to talk on that subject since the scientist kept him on his toes at all times, and most of that time was spent confusing the hell out of him.
"Well?" he demanded, crossing his arms in his usual stance and leaning against the wall casually.
"Well WHAT?"
"Do you want the bastard dead or not?" Vegeta almost exploded in exasperation. "What has this conversation been about for the past 10 minutes?"
She smirked at him though without her usual attitude. "I don't know. I've been tuning you out for the past 20." Before the Saiyan could blow a gasket she jumped up on the table and sat cross-legged. "I don't know to tell you the truth."
"Well THAT would be a first," he muttered, cocking his head slightly to the right. "Go on."
"Well…" Bulma closed her eyes to try and find the words to explain her slightly twisted morals. "There's one part of me that's saying 'Die bastard DIE and rot in the 19th pit of hell while you're at it' and the other part is going 'Well, MAYBE he deserves a second chance and we should give it to him.' Can't he just get life in jail or something?"
"In what?"
She rolled her eyes. "Never mind. And it probably doesn't matter what I say because you've already gotten it into your thick head to knock the guy off." Bulma grinned when she saw the flash of surprise in the prince's eyes. "Thought so. So why do you care?"
Vegeta shrugged. "Tradition."
"Ah, so Daddy told you to ask me."
"It is required to ask the victim to decide the fate of the accused," he recited as if saying it for the thousandth time. "However in this case it's meaningless because he will die regardless of your decision. The king has nothing to do with this transaction."
"Indirectly he does, but I'm not getting into that now," Bulma muttered, leaning forward to lean her elbows on her knees and cup her chin in her hands. "Any other useless information you feel like tossing my way?"
"You are required by law to be at the execution," he offered with a smirk. Bulma went slightly green. "What now, woman?"
"Exactly HOW is he executed?" she asked carefully.
"He will fight against three transformed warriors one at a time until he dies," Vegeta replied simply.
Bulma winced and drew back. "Can't you just castrate the bastard and send him on his merry way?"
The Saiyan's brow furrowed in though. "Castrate?"
She looked at him in open astonishment. "You are SO behind the times," she muttered, then spread her hands. "Chop his balls off."
The prince looked stricken. "Woman… how can you think such a thing? What a barbaric act!"
She gave him a sidelong glare. "This coming from a guy who destroys planets for fun." She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, leaning back against the wall and stretching her legs out so her ankles hung over the edge of the table. "Then again, all guys are the same."
Vegeta scowled, knowing where this conversation was headed, especially since they'd already had three just like it. Instead of rising to the bait, he growled. Bulma smiled sweetly and winked. Before she could comment on her victory, he spoke. "You will testify just before the festival."
In the time it took him to blink, Bulma went from cocky to white-as-a-ghost terrified. "Testify to WHAT?"
Amazed at the sudden change in mood, he proceeded with a bit of confusion. "To his crimes against you and anything else that you know of."
The first thing Bulma thought of was that she wanted her mother. Then she wanted to squeak, but had too much control over herself to do so. "You're kidding, right?" she demanded in a voice rock steady for what she was feeling. She glared at him darkly. "Knowing you, every Saiyan in a position of power will be there to see me break down. Not happening." Chi Chi's death haunted her daily, but until Gohan was old enough to understand, that was her business alone.
He rolled his eyes. "Woman, WHAT is so difficult--" He cut himself off when he noticed she was no longer paying attention. She was back to sitting Indian-style with her hands buried in her pant legs, holding on for dear life. Her head was down, blue hair hiding her expression from the prince's view.
/By the gods, she's afraid./ The realization left him stumped and not liking it. Narrowing his eyes in concentration, he scowled. /So what else did the asshole do leave her in this state?/ Vegeta caught himself there and felt like banging his head against the wall to clear it. Thinking about why Bulma did things always left him confused and pissed-off. /She's a slave,/ he reminded himself. /I should care nothing about her well-being./
Vegeta shook his head and pushed off from the wall. "You have one day to pull yourself together, woman. I suggest you do it." As he turned to leave, her reaction still irked him. /Maybe the logs will have some information on this./ With that in mind, he set off to find a tech. He had a feeling that Bulma wasn't getting around to his gravity machine.
============================================
He grinned in childish delight as his elbows held him up on the circular windowsill, head cocked slightly to the side and his feet kicking in a simple rhythm against the wall. "Wow," was all he could say as the red planet came into view. "It looks like home," he whispered, one finger outlining the swirls of lighter red indicating clouds. He turned to look over his shoulder at the warrior behind him. "What's it like down there?"
Bardock grunted, but Gohan only turned to sit where his arms had been and propped his chin in his hands, elbows on his crossed legs. "It's a mostly desert planet," he said dully, as if reciting from memory something he'd said every day his entire life. "On the far side, nearest to the sun is where the forests are, and there are only about three. At the north and south poles of the planet are glaciers where we get our water, channeled underground in a very complex system that cleans and purifies as it goes along. Unlike your planet, Vegetasei does not have different languages, merely different dialects as any large area does.
There are no towns, only large cities and near the forests are farmers. The palace of Vegetasei is the capital and political headquarters. Governments are run by the king's appointed soldiers within the cities and are also in charge of overseeing the amount of water that gets to the farmers." He cut himself off and glared at his grandson. "Anything else you want to know?"
"That's more than I expected," the little boy admitted, grinning again. "I never heard you talk so much at one time."
/Neither have I,/ he thought, amazed. He rarely spoke so much to his crew, and even his best friend had to pry comments out of him. Unless it was before or during a battle, of course. He shrugged. "Don't usually
have anything to say, kid." Gohan smiled charmingly at his grandfather, knowing that was as close to affection as the Saiyan would get. "So why do you talk so much?"
The half-breed blinked in surprise. This was the first time the older man had wanted to carry on a conversation. "Are you worried about me?"
Bardock's eyes widened, then narrowed. "Now why the hell are you thinking that?"
Gohan shrugged innocently. "When Mama got worried she talked a lot."
"She talks a lot anyway," Bardock muttered, then crossed his arms, glaring at the boy. "No, I am not worried about you. I'm more worried about what the other brats will look like after you're through with them." He smirked, almost looking proud of his grandson. "I'm worried the king won't be able to use them. And you didn't answer my question."
"Uh…" The little Saiyan put an arm behind his head in a very Goku-like fashion and blushed. "What was it again?"
"You better learn how to remember shit, kid. Otherwise you're better off as a warrior trying to get a few free favors from Getan(¹)." Gohan gave him a confused look and he scowled. "And you better learn our gods." He leaned against the wall and scowled, then repeated his earlier question.
"I dunno. I like to. Mama and Papa used to yell at each other all the time. It was funny though." He giggled and kicked his feet happily. "Mama had a frying pan and she would chase Papa all over the yard with it."
"Your mother had that much power over your father?" Bardock scoffed. "A Saiyan that weak is not worthy to be called a Saiyan at all."
"My dad was the strongest fighter on Earth!" Gohan protested angrily, clenching his small fists.
"Well if your father was so powerful then how was he defeated?" Bardock demanded smugly. "I can tell you one thing kid, it wasn't because of Riccoli(²)."
"Riccoli?" Gohan inquired, brows furrowed in confusion.
"Yeah, kid, Riccoli. You never heard of him before?" The 5-year-old shook his head and the warrior rolled his eyes. "I'll talk to your mother and find out what you call it on Earth. Honestly, you better get up with the times before you leave." Then his eyes narrowed. "And why do you keep avoiding questions? Learn to give a straight answer before you get to Tirran, brat. Your Commander won't like repeating himself." He added an extra growl before asking the question again.
"I really don't know," the hybrid admitted, scratching his head. "I just know that some guy with big hair came and tried to con Papa into coming to outer space and fighting with him, and when he said no, took me and threw me in his ship." Gohan smiled when he remembered the Saiyan pod. "If I wasn't afraid I would take off and never come back I would've played with the buttons." He shook his head to clear it and get himself back on track. "Anyway, I heard Papa yelling and then I woke up at home."
The Saiyan snorted and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. "Pitiful display." Then suddenly his eyes widened the tiniest bit as the half-breed continued to talk. /My sons killed each other./ He inwardly groaned at their stupidity and looked over the boy in front of him. /At least one of my bloodline inherited intelligence./
He was about to question his grandson when the door to his room slammed open. Gohan's life story came to a stumbling halt as Nappa appeared, framed in the doorway before entering. Bardock started to rise angrily, but Nappa waved a hand, a motion indicating he would only be a moment.
"What's the brat doing here?" he asked, smirking at the hybrid. The 5-year-old raised his chin defiantly and the older Saiyan chuckled. "I think Tirran will be good for him."
"Do what you came to do and leave," Bardock replied icily, rising so he wasn't more than two feet shorter than the bald man.
Nappa snorted and turned to the other warrior. "The prince sent me to tell you that you can bring the brat to the 'trial' tomorrow."
"She's actually going to testify?" the older man demanded with some measure of disbelief.
The bigger Saiyan smirked, rubbing one end of his moustache with his thumb. "Prince Vegeta made it crystal clear that she was to attend, testify, and be happy about it. Brought her to tears, I heard." He dropped his smug expression. "Turles is normally insane, but to do something that would make a woman like her cry… it almost scares me."
Bardock smirked and placed a hand on his powering-up grandson's head. "You like her, don't you?" Nappa looked astonished, enraged, and even sputtered trying to deny it, but the older Saiyan chuckled. "It's obvious from the way you protect her. I think you've found yourself a friend."
"Turles is my friend. Bulma is an annoyance," he growled, clenching his fist and waving it under his companion's nose.
Bardock's black eyes flashed triumphantly. "Bulma is it now?" he inquired in an amused tone, smirking. "Maybe I was wrong. Perhaps smitten is the better word."
Nappa roared his injustice to the ship before turning a previously unexplored shade of red and growling in a language that sounded remotely like Saiyan but that Gohan couldn't make heads or tails of. He put one arm behind his head in confusion as Bardock chuckled. "Southerners."
"What just happened?" he asked timidly.
"Nothing kid. Just embarrassing the living daylights out of him for being so damn stubborn." He settled onto the bed and kicked off his boots before stretching out leisurely. "He's the closest thing to a friend your mother has on this ship and he refuses to admit she's his friend too. Most Saiyans are like that. They see friendship as a weakness."
Gohan slid off the windowsill and leaned against the wall, tail wrapped around his waist. "Is it?"
Bardock looked at him, a little surprised by the question. /He'll keep his first Commander on his toes, that's for sure./ He folded his hands behind his head and looked at the ceiling. "I really don't know."
There was a long silence, and just as Bardock allowed his eyes to close and body to relax, Gohan piped up, "Could I sleep with you?"
The soldier's mind instantly went to the double meaning and stared at his grandson in shock. Then he strictly reprimanded himself that the boy was only that: a 5-year-old. He sighed and moved over so there was enough room for the half-breed and rolled onto his side away from him.
Gohan grinned and slid onto the bed, snuggling into the semi-warm blankets. Then he sat up and wrapped his arms around his grandfather's neck. Bardock froze and was about to retaliate when the hybrid kissed his temple and retreated to his own side of the bed.
"What the hell was that for?" the warrior demanded, sitting up and looking at the wide-eyed kid.
"Mama always said that's how you show someone affection," he returned, propping himself up on one elbow. "Don't you know?"
"Don't you know not to surprise a warrior Saiyan, brat?" he snapped, shaking his upper body to get rid of the feeling left. "A stunt like that could very well get you killed. Don't let it happen again!" He grunted and faced the wall again, tail twitching. /That kid is too affectionate for his own good./
Gohan sighed unhappily and dropped his chin onto his crossed arms. "Good night," he said softly and rolled over, closing his eyes. He had a feeling it would be a long night.
(¹)Getan-- god of land/vegetation; Vegeta's nic is often Geta, Ithink you can figure out where this came from. i hope, anyway.
(²)Riccoli-- from broccoli; boogeyman
============================================
"Well how the hell was I supposed to know? All I know is that as soon as I try to roll out of bed this morning, I go down and STAY down. Now, really, I thought I was just extremely tired, but to find out that they've been raising the gravity just PISSES ME OFF! The LEAST they could've done was TOLD me your freaking gravity is higher!"
Zucco smiled gently and pressed his palms into Bulma's shoulders, forcing her back a step so he could have room to breathe without rustling her hair. "Bulma, all you have to do is walk on the blue squares. They have a lower gravity suited for those picked up on other planets."
Growling, the scientist grabbed the front of the doctor's coat and pulled herself toward him since he wasn't about to move. "Are you telling me I CRAWLED here because I thought I was sick for no Kami-damned reason?!"
"Yes."
She went off into a wide array of curses that put even the prince to shame. Zucco shook his head as she stormed around the room shouting for everyone to hear and not being able to understand a word of it. Finally she paused to take a breath, and the Saiyan seized the opportunity to slap his hand over her mouth. Bulma's hands clawed at his arm as he pulled her against him, then lifted her and laid her on a table in an effort of restraint.
"Are you done yet?" he inquired when she made no further noise. She shook her head angrily and he sighed, switching hands and looking at the slightly abraded skin. "Did you just BITE me?" Bulma nodded and Zucco removed his palm. "Are you INSANE?"
Working her jaw slightly, she looked up at him and swung her legs over the side of the table. "No, why?"
"Because biting a Saiyan is an offer, Bulma." His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head as if searching for something. She squirmed as he tapped the side of her neck. "I thought you had a mate."
"A WHAT?"
"A mate," he replied simply, crossing his arms. "I belive the human phrase is 'significant other' or some nonsense like that."
"A husband?" She ran through the list of things he could be talking about and husband was the closest match. /Mate. How primitive./
"Whatever you call it. He was a Saiyan, wasn't he?" Bulma was now uncomfortably confused and nodded slowly. "Then why didn't he claim you?"
"What does this have to do with an offer?" she growled, pushing his hand away.
"If you are unclaimed and bite a Saiyan, you're basically saying, 'Take me, I'm yours.' To claim a mate you bite or get bitten about here." He traced a line on her neck almost from jaw to collarbone. "If you have a
Saiyan mate, why weren't you claimed? It's first instinct."
/Yeah, well Goku's first instinct is to run from women with bad tempers and frying pans,/ Bulma thought dryly. "When he was a little boy he had a serious head injury that cleared out almost everything Saiyan about him. He still liked to fight and he had a tail, but that was it. He's human."
Zucco shook his head slowly. "This could be a problem then. Your only defense is your teeth."
"And nails," Bulma added, flexing her fingers dangerously. "Ask Turles."
"I would, but he's a bit unconscious so I think he's lacking a comment," Zucco answered.
Suddenly Bulma grabbed his arm. "So, what are YOU going to do?"
"About what?"
"About me biting you." She looked almost afraid and the doctor raised his eyebrows.
"Nothing. I have a mate, and I won't take a mistress. Besides, you belong to someone already. I couldn't take you if I wanted to."
Had she been on Earth, she would have made some snide comment about not being good enough for the bastard, but here she was grateful for Zucco's strange sense of honor. "Well, as long as I'm fine I better go."
"Remember, the blue squares. They should lead all over the ship," he said, already preoccupied. He waited until the doors hissed shut before sighing. "I hope she hasn't bitten anybody."
============================================
"Woman, you are starting to really irritate me," Vegeta growled, crossing his arms, not noticing his tail lashing to and fro in annoyance. "This is not a problem. You get off the ship, go to the palace, find your quarters and get ready to testify."
"And the entire time I'm turning into a pancake because the gravity of your planet is 10 times higher than mine. Hear me? TEN FREAKING TIMES! Even an IDIOT like you should be able to do the math." From the look on his face, it was obvious he'd never thought about the fact that the different planets had different gravities.
"Deal with it, woman. I don't care how." The prince smirked to himself. /I'll see how long it is before she figures out that there are low-gravity tiles going to and inside the palace./
He turned to leave, only to find Bulma attached to his tail and yanking back on it. Before he could say anything, she poked her finger into the center of his chest and scowled. "Let me spell this out for you, pal, because you don't seem to get it! One Bulma plus 10 times normal gravity equals NO TECH! Which ALSO equals, no new training room. Are you getting this yet?"
Vegeta yanked the extra appendage out of her hand and wrapped it firmly around his waist. /She's stronger than I thought,/ he observed with a smirk. He grabbed the wrist of the hand she was poking him with and came close to a smile. "Are YOU getting this, woman? I want you off the ship and into the palace when we land. Find a way."
"You know, for every time you're ignorant, I should slow down the programming to your training room a day. You'll be up to 6 months in no time."
The prince smirked and drew her closer, tail moving from his waist to hers. "You know I could kill you now, woman."
"No you couldn't," Bulma argued. She suddenly found herself flat on her back with Vegeta's lit palm brushing her bangs. She swallowed once and grinned. "O, how impressive. It glows, big deal. Move on."
"If I'm this close, woman," Vegeta said, inching his hand nearer until it almost rested on her forehead, "then why can't I kill you?"
"Because you need me," she replied simply. "No one else knows how to build anything you want or invent something halfway useful."
The Saiyan snorted and moved his hand so he had one arm on either side of her head. Bulma went stiff as his weight shifted and she realized just how much he'd been covering her. Vegeta's eyes narrowed as he saw the small flash of fear fly through her eyes before it was hidden by defiance.
After a few more moments of silence, Bulma had to restrain herself from squirming. "Do you mind?"
"No."
"Yeah, well *I* do! I have work to do and a life to save so get the fuck off me!"
Vegeta cocked an eyebrow and Bulma scowled. "Whose?"
"Whose WHAT?"
"Whose life do you have to save?"
"MINE, asshole! Since you're not going to help, I have to figure something out myself." She mentally growled and studied the prince's balance. /Well it looks like my ki generator is going to be put on hold until I can figure out a way to either rip off every blue tile in the ship or make my own./ Narrowing her eyes, Bulma noticed that Vegeta was supporting too much weight on his arms. /I guess living around fighters my entire life was more useful than I thought./
The Saiyan suddenly felt wary when Bulma flashed him a grin. The next moment, he was falling to the side. He had no idea how she'd gotten him off-balance, but he was slightly impressed. Instead of doing the expected thing and rolling away from him, she turned toward and over him. They stood at about the same time, but now Vegeta was no longer between Bulma and the door.
Growling, the prince clenched his fist. "How did you do that, woman?"
Bulma blew on her knuckles then polished them on her shirt, grinning. "It was actually quite easy. I kicked your feet out from under you and pushed you over."
Vegeta went off ranting in Saiyan while Bulma rolled her eyes and slipped out the door. She had less than five hours to find a way to keep herself from getting killed one step off the ship, and by Kami she was going to do it.
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"Zucco, Lab 1. Now!" The doctor looked up and saw a technical slave bent over the nearest table and breathing hard. It looked like he'd run from the labs, which were clear across the ship for some unintelligent reason. The Saiyan looked puzzled but grabbed an ice pack and a few rolls of gauze.
"Who?" he demanded, taking the exhausted slave with him.
He stumbled through a few names as he tried to keep up with Zucco. Finally he grabbed the older man's arm and held on. "It's Bulma!" The Saiyan's pace increased almost to a run, then he moved into lighter gravity and moved at full speed toward the science wing. The poor tech just laid in the middle of the floor and gaped.
Zucco almost ran over Vegeta coming out of an unseen door and had to slam himself against the wall to keep from knocking the prince to the floor. Unfortunately, that killed his speed and left a dent in the wall.
Vegeta arched an eyebrow at the stunned doctor and crossed his arms, waiting until the older man could say something coherent.
"I'm sorry my prince," Zucco said, regaining his balance and quickly bowing. "I was just on my way to the labs to check on a patient, so if you will excuse me…"
Vegeta waited until he was almost out of earshot before inquiring, "Who?"
"Bulma!" the other Saiyan shouted over his shoulder before moving back onto the blue tiles and took off through one wall and out the one behind it. Vegeta looked startled for a split second then shook his head.
/That woman is going to get herself and everyone around her killed,/ the prince thought as he started after Zucco. Then he smirked. /But that's what makes it interesting./
When he arrived, Bulma was laying on the floor while Zucco knelt at her side, muttering under his breath. "You can't keep doing this. Humans cannot go 30 hours or more without sleep."
"I just did it," Bulma grunted back and scowled.
"Yes, and came close to giving yourself a concussion several times," Zucco growled, running a thumb over the bruises on her forehead. "In this state you can't walk a straight line let alone work. And I FORBID you to climb that ladder again."
Vegeta grunted and got the attention of everyone save Bulma, who was speaking again. "Now you sound like Vegeta," she muttered. "And let me tell you, if you keep doing that I'm going to kill you for it. I've never met such a big prick in my life. He's a cute prick, I'll admit that, but a prick nonetheless. And did I just say he was CUTE?" She tried to sit up and found the doctor's hand in its usual position against her shoulder.
"Yes, you did," Zucco answered, amusement dancing in his eyes. In the back of the room, the prince quirked one corner of his mouth upward. /So she finds me attractive,/ he thought with a smirk. /Interesting./
"Don't mind me," Bulma continued. "When I go for more than 26 hours the pause button between my mouth and my brain turns off."
"It wasn't there to begin with," Vegeta muttered, startling several techs. "Back to work!"
"What the hell…" Bulma wondered, about to sit up when Zucco's hand came down across the back of her head. She slumped, unconscious in his arms.
Lowering the scientist to the floor, he sighed. Looking over his shoulder, the Saiyan nodded. "Sire, she should wake up about 30 minutes before the trial."
"As long as she's there on time. That will be YOUR responsibility," Vegeta ordered, narrowing his eyes. "It seems you've taken quite a liking to her."
Zucco shrugged and cradled the human woman in his arms as he rose. "It's hard not to, sire. And she's been a world of help around not only the labs but in the medical wing as well. You're lucky to have found her. She's very valuable."
Vegeta snorted. "All she is to me is a pain in the ass." He growled inwardly. /And a distraction./
Zucco rolled his eyes and in doing so caught sight of a red line down the prince's neck. Cocking his head, the older Saiyan narrowed his eyes to look at it better. "Sire, are you all right?"
"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Zucco shifted Bulma and ran a finger down his own neck to indicate the mark on Vegeta's. The younger man put a hand there curiously, then scowled. "I don't remember exactly. It's only a scar."
Apparently Vegeta had never really looked at the old wound because Zucco could clearly see that it was a bite mark. He bowed to the prince and walked toward his office, puzzled. /It obviously isn't Saiyan because the prince would never mate with a man, which means that it could only be one of the slaves. But who could get close enough?/ Suddenly the day that Bulma and Vegeta had been brought before the enraged king for some unknown reason came to mind and the Saiyan stopped dead in his tracks. He looked down at the sleeping Bulma and slowly shook his head. /I hope you know what you're doing./
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The Saiyan doctor glanced over his shoulder as the sheets rustled, the sound alerting him to the patient's irritated stir. Aqua hair fanned out on the pillow, she looked more like a sleeping angel than a she-devil banshee. Zucco smiled to himself and returned partial attention to his documents. Bulma needed her sleep, especially after the effort it took to get her off the ship. She'd been unconscious for less than 10 minutes before she started raising Cain on the Saiyans.
Bulma attempted to toss and turn in her bed but found self strapped down with restraints that could probably hold against even Vegeta's strength. /Of course,/ she thought bitterly, testing the straps, /I'm on a planet full of bloodthirsty, rampaging were-monkeys. EVERYTHING is exaggerated./
Zucco smiled at his patient and shuffled the papers before peeling the royal seal off one that he'd missed. Meanwhile, the blue-haired beauty was trying to either get back to sleep or forget the creepy look on the prince's face she'd seen before passing out from sleep deprivation. It had been amused, as always, but what looked like a flash of confusion and even concern had flashed through his eyes in the split second she'd kept her eyes open. /I can't believe I'm thinking this,/ Bulma growled to herself. /I'm thinking that the bastard Saiyan prince is cute when he looks like that. Kami, why me? Why do you hate me?/
Finally the scientist grunted and collapsed firmly on the bed. "ZUCCO!" she howled angrily. The Saiyan looked up with a grin at the furious glare of the human woman. "Get me out of this!"
"We didn't know how long you would be out," he explained as a purple button was pushed and the traps vanished. Bulma looked on with scientific intrigue just as the doctor went back to reading the letter from the king. "It was only to keep you from going anywhere."
"Then why is she out?" Both occupants turned to see Vegeta standing against the wall waiting for either person to notice him. Strolling into the full light, Zucco's eyes landed on his scar once again and mentally shook his head. /It's a good thing he doesn't remember that./
"Because I have to take a piss," Bulma growled, storming off in the direction of the bathroom. For once, Vegeta let her go, sniffing the air carefully. /But… it's been less than 30 standard days since the last time she was in heat. She shouldn't be in her next cycle already./ From the facilities came a sudden shouting in what the two men could only guess was her native languages, and most likely were swears.
Zucco sensed the prince's confusion and smiled. "Sire, she was explaining to me that every 28 to 31 standard days human females go into heat for 3 to 7 days at a time."
Vegeta mentally groaned, tail whipping around so fast it cracked. "Then we have another obstacle tonight. Every male there is going to go crazy because of the scent she's giving off." Zucco slowly absorbed this information and swallowed. Very few women attended a soldier's trial, and even fewer men had enough self-control to keep from tracing the scent given off by Bulma.
"Then we must find the strongest female guards we have, sire," Zucco concluded. "Unless you want the task of protecting her yourself."
Vegeta smirked ferally. "I think I will be the one to protect her. It could get interesting."
Both Saiyans glanced toward the bathroom and the doctor sighed. "As soon as she gets out of there."
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When she was practically thrown into the room that looked like it was in the same vicinity of the royalty's chambers, Bulma growled and turned to snap at the woman. Then she found the smaller guard's elbow dug firmly into the unarmored stomach of a Saiyan that nearly put Nappa to shame in bulk and the man doubled over, wheezing. As seen many times with Goku, the warrioress removed her arm and the man fell onto his knees before the other woman's chop rendered him unconscious.
Bulma whistled appreciatively. "Damn. One of these days I'm gonna learn how to do that."
Both relaxed out of their last pose and simultaneously brought their fists together. The taller bowed, swiftly mimicked by her probably younger partner. "I am Nea(¹), senior guard of the western sector."
"And I am Orrata(²)," the other Saiyan said as she straightened.
"Bulma," the human woman said with a grin, leaning against the doorjamb. "Senior pain in the prince's ass." Both guards' lips twitched but before either could comment, Bulma continued. "And now that we're past all the formalities, I'd like to know why you're being so respectful to a slave."
"It's obvious Prince Vegeta wants you taken care of," Orrata answered quickly. "He rarely calls for guards himself. If he holds you in such high regard then so shall we."
Bulma blew her bangs out of her face and sighed. "Do me a favor and DON'T. I didn't like it much at home and I sure as HELL don't like it here. Relax a little. It's not like I'm going to bite your head off."
"I'm afraid we can't," Nea replied bluntly. "Prince Vegeta doesn't want us to get TOO close to the slaves." Bulma bristled and was about to open her mouth when the guard continued. "I think you should rest now. A trial is long and tiring."
Bulma muttered something about not knowing what rest was, turning to face the inside of the room. "We'll be here if you need anything," Orrata said, the two women flanking the door as it closed.
Bulma growled and flopped down on the single bed, then looked at the wall and noticed a computer. A computer that was turned on and looking like it was ready to go. Cracking her knuckles one at a time, the scientist grinned. /Well, as long as I'm here…/
(¹)Nea -- from bean. (i THINK that's a vegetable anyway)
(²)Orrata -- from carrot
