(A/N: Okay, this chapter's really long. I estimate about two more chapters after this one. You find out a little more about Andy in this one. Yeah, I know there are about a bazillion little twists and turns in this story, but I PROMISE they will all tie together. Vegeta's a li'l drugged in this chapter, so if he's a little OOC, that's why. But I hope you like it. Please tell me what you think. R&R.)

Bulma slid silently down the remaining part of the chute, alighting on the mattress that had been placed at the corner of the room. She had thought Andy had haphazardly thrown the soft mat just anywhere that seemed convenient, but now she realized that he had placed it just for the occasion of using the trapdoor. Scooping up a sleeping Trunks - his face was wet with tears, signifying that he had been crying the entire time she was gone - she turned around to stare at her point of entry. The mouth of the tunnel had closed up, almost as if it had never been.

"Smart bastard, you were planning this from the beginning," she muttered.

The door banged open. She whirled around in a flurry of messy locks to find Andy hefting Vegeta into the room. With a strangled cry, she set Trunks back down on the mattress and scrambled across the tile, taking hold of her husband's arm.

"Let go of him," she growled, giving a small tug.

"Bulma--"
"I said let go!" The girl pulled harder, all the while shooting Andy a withering look that would have killed if such things were possible. The inventor caught and held her gaze. For a few fleeting moments, neither moved; they just stared into the eyes of the other, each daring their opponent to make the first move.

At last Andy sighed and rolled his eyes. "Suit yourself." Taking a step back, he removed his arms from around Vegeta's waist - he had been carrying the prince slung over his shoulder - and let him fall. Bulma struggled to keep his head from hitting the floor, but to no avail; her husband weighed in at next to three hundred pounds of pure muscle, and she was dragged to the ground as he collapsed upon the tile.

"Oof!" Bulma fell pinned beneath the massive weight, her husband's arm thrown haphazardly across her stomach. Her own arms were hopelessly stuck under the Saiyan's broad back. Casting Andy another venomous glare, she struggled to free herself.

"Don't you see, Bulma?" Andy said pityingly, settling onto his haunches beside the fallen girl. "Even in unconsciousness, he is still a burden to you. I don't see why you can't give up this torturous life and step back into the life you were meant to live."

"Don't you dare try to tell me what kind of life I was 'meant to live'!" Bulma spat. She finally wriggled free her left hand and started in on the right. "Leave us alone. I won't try to escape - I know I couldn't anyway."

Andy shook his head. "You amaze me," he murmured. Slapping his hands upon his knees in temporary acquiescence, the ingenious man hefted himself onto the balls of his feet and stood up. "Fine, have it your way. I will be watching you, though; know that you will not pull a single thing without my knowledge. Should you try to escape…"

"I just told you I wouldn't!" she snarled. By this point she had almost managed to liberate her other hand from the tremendous bulk of her husband's inanimate form, and she whipped her head around to meet her captor eye to eye. "Even I know when to quit sometimes. And I wouldn't leave Vegeta."

"Indeed." Folding his arms across his chest, the inventor stalked across the room to the door. "Well then, as you wish. I will send a servant down with a meal for you within the hour." He issued a mocking bow. "I hope you still find the accommodations to your liking," he added acidly.

"Like hell," she hissed.

Andy laughed and walked out, slamming the door behind him with such tremendous force that the mansion rocked on its foundations. Bulma gritted her teeth and flicked him off through the closed door.

"I've never hated anyone so much in my life!" she muttered. Having finally managed to yank her hand free, she rubbed her temple with the tip of her ring finger, looking around for some possible way around her current situation. There was none.

"Dammit, Andy, why do you have to be so smart!" Getting up, she walked the length of the cell to inspect the various monitors, drawers, and cabinets that were placed neatly at even intervals around the room. Little Trunks watched her from his place on the mattress, his chubby chin starting to quiver as he prepared to let out a tremendous cry. Bulma heard the warning sniffles and quickly left off her task to run to her son.

"Shh, shh, Trunks," she whispered, gathering the little boy close and resting her chin on his head. "Mommy'll get us out of here. You don't have to worry about a thing. As soon as daddy's better, we'll all go home."

Not understanding a word she said, Trunks squirmed around in her arms and held out a tiny hand to his father. "….Da….ddddddda……" he said stubbornly, balling the little fingers into a fist. Tears welled up in his blue eyes. Bulma followed his gaze to her husband, biting back a lump in her throat as she saw several pinpoints of blood on the prince's neck.

"That must be where the darts hit," she murmured. Pushing herself to her feet, she grabbed ahold of the corner of the mattress and dragged it across the room to where the Saiyan lay. Trunks babbled incoherently against her shoulder as she tried to balance him in the crook of her right arm, never taking his eyes from his fallen father. Bulma nuzzled his cheek reassuringly and plopped the mat down beside her husband.

"Alrighty then. Let's see if I can figure out what you were hit with, you stupid Saiyan," she muttered gently. She slipped Trunks down onto the mattress and gave him a 'stay there' look, then began to prod gingerly at the small holes in Vegeta's neck. "You know, you big lug," she said quietly, using insults to bite back the tears of guilt that stung the backs of her eyes, "I'm surprised this entered your muscle at all. I would've thought that they'd've bounced right off." Leaning closer, she pursed her lips tightly together as she pushed her fingers into the bloodied hollow. She gave a low whistle of disbelief. "These were perfectly aimed!" she exclaimed to herself. "Hell, you must have been moving at least a hundred and fifty miles per hour. What kind of apparatus could do such accurate calculations?"

Vegeta's eyes squeezed tight shut, and he let out a small groan. Bulma jumped. Tenderly placing her hand on his shoulder, she bent to gently open one of his eyes with the tip of her finger. The pupil was rolled up into his head, revealing the pearly white underside of the eyeball. The girl grimaced and let the eyelid fall closed.

"Doesn't seem serious," she murmured, even though she felt her heart creeping up into her throat. Despite her words, she thought she'd seen a familiar bluish tinge around the outside of the puncture wounds. Taking a deep breath, she managed to heft Vegeta into a sitting position, his back against the wall. "Guess I'd better check your reflexes, itooshi," she breathed, her eyes flickering once more over the holes in his neck. The sinking feeling in her stomach surged even lower as she gulped and gently lifted Vegeta's knee.

Please, God, let it just be a temporary sedative…

Licking her lips, she hit the muscle just behind the kneecap with the heel of her palm. No response. Her blue eyes widened and she issued another , stronger blow, hoping to get some sort of reaction from the unconscious prince. His leg remained still.

"Oh God," she whispered, letting his knee fall back to the floor. Sensing something was wrong, Trunks began to wail, and Bulma gathered him close. "Trunks," she sniffled, smoothing the little boy's silky purple hair, "I think your daddy's been paralyzed." Those darts… she thought to herself. Those goddamn darts! Damn you, Andy! Damn you!

"Now what do we do…?" she mumbled. "That stuff could wear off within the next few hours or last up to three weeks. God, what the hell do I do!" Hugging her son to her breast, she laid her head against Vegeta's shoulder and closed her eyes, all the while wondering what kind of human paralyzing drug could so strongly affect a Saiyan.

Nothing from this world…

She felt the anxiety begin to take its toll on her body, and she leaned heavily against her unconscious husband. As she was about to drift off into an uneasy sleep, a last fleeting though passed through her mind.

…Then what does that make Andy?

Even though the world was dark, she could hear surprised hollers and the barking of orders echo all around her as she struggled to open her weary eyes. Booted feet once more pounded down the pristine halls, pounding in her head like the beat of an Indian war drum. Wondering blearily what could be going on in the usually silent mansion, she forced open her eyes and looked around.

She was no longer leaning against the fallen prince. Instead, she was collapsed across a hard, metal posted bunk that was placed among many others - sort of like a barracks. The room was darkened for sleeping, but she was the only one inside. Cautiously sliding to her feet, she took a look around.

"Trunks isn't here," she murmured, running her fingers across the cool metal posts. "This must be like that dream I had earlier!" The other dream, formerly forgotten in all the confusing twists and turns her life had taken, came flooding back to her. She remembered the bloodied Saiyan prince, the smirks of Dodoria and Zarbon…

The Prince's vow…

She shook her head violently and put a hand to her temple. "But why am I having these? I've never had them before. What could they mean…?"

BOOM.

The building - or whatever it was she had created in her mind - rocked precariously on its foundations, as if some huge asteroid had come barreling in from the heavens to slam against it. Bulma was knocked to the floor, and several of the stacked bunks fell around her. One toppled so close that it would have pinned her leg, had she not scrambled away at the last second. Finding her back against the door, she whirled around and grappled with the handle, then sprinted off down the hall.

There has to a be a point to why I'm seeing these things, she thought to herself as she rounded corner after corner of the strange building, sometimes having to dodge through passing Saiyans and sometimes running right through them. Though she had no idea where she was going, she ran with a sense of purpose; it was as if though her mind could not tell her where she was headed, her heart had known it all along. Wondering at this new revelation, she came to a set of tremendous silver-and-ruby doors.

Guarded by two grim-looking but determined Saiyan guards, the huge entrance was a myriad of alien runes etched in silver on two giant slabs of Saiyan ruby. The structures themselves were massive works of art, and though she could not read the spidery script that crept up and down their length, she felt awed by the mere power they seemed to contain. Slipping silently past the two guards, she entered the two doors and let them fall shut behind her with a bang that echoed with doomed finality.

The room she entered was enormous. Carved of onyx and lit by ruby chandeliers, it looked like it was built to hold at least ten thousand Saiyan warriors within its shadowy depths. Bulma found her eyes drawn to the center of the room, where a shaft of waning sunlight filtered through a huge skylight and fell upon a raised dais made entirely of ruby. On the dais were three thrones, each made of the same onyx as the rest of the room. Unadorned, they were simply slabs of rock fitted together in the likeness of chairs - the epitome of strength.

"What are you doing here?"
Bulma whirled around, her heart beating wildly against her rib cage. No one should be able to see her - she was in a dream, for gossake! She pressed herself into the shadows, knowing her effort would be futile but making it all the same. Squeezing her eyes shut, she waited to be blasted into either oblivion or wakefulness; whichever came first.

But the blast did not come. Instead, Bulma heard heavy but graceful footsteps stride right past her, heading for the dais. She cracked open one eye and stifled a gasp.

"Vegeta…?" she whispered. The man who had entered was of the same height and build as her husband, emulating him right down to the spiky mound of unruly black hair. The stride, the stance, the demeanor…they were all the same. Except this man wore a blood red cape that swept the floor as he walked, and a sharp-shaved black beard formed itself into a point around his sullen chin. Bulma frowned in confusion and moved a little closer.

A sparkling laugh sounded from the dais, making Bulma jump once again. She whipped her head toward the sound to find the most beautiful woman she had ever seen sitting atop the center throne. The Saiyan female had flaming red hair that fell in shimmering waves to her waist, cut short in the front to frame her burning green eyes, which she had turned upon the man in cool appraisal. She was short in stature and wore a similar red cloak, which tumbled to the ground behind her in a waterfall of ruby satin. Porcelain white skin that seemed to be more fit for a ballroom than for battle was concealed by the armor or a warrior, and she waved a gloved hand idly to the newcomer.

"I think that is my question, my husband," she said smoothly. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be doing tricks for your new master? Maybe he will buy you a pretty red collar and some doggy food."

"You know we have no choice, Teraynia!" the man growled. "If we do not cave in to Frieza's terms, then we will not stand a chance against his might. Vejitaseii will fall."

"Better to fall fighting than to be beaten to the ground as a slave," she snorted, turning her eyes back upon the skylight. "I thought you understood that when we underwent the sairea."

"Teraynia, if we join Frieza, we will become more powerful than we could ever imagine!" The man mounted the dais and followed her gaze. The fight was currently at a standstill but Frieza's ship could be seen in the distance, hovering like a fat spider over its prey. "Teraynia," he said again, "we could have the universe."

"Frieza will have the universe, Vegeta," she murmured. Then she turned her blazing green eyes upon him. "I will not submit to his terms. I will not send my son and heir to be beaten and degraded by this lizard man. Regardless of what you say or do, I will fight until the last drop of blood leaves my heart to preserve the honor you yourself have lost." The boy prince came up from behind the throne and sat down upon his own, looking without emotion at his father. King Vegeta pursed his lips, and Teraynia placed her hand upon her son's head.

"You used to be strong, my husband. You used to know your kingdom and its worth, but it seems you have forgotten." Slipping to the floor with catlike grace, Teraynia started across the room.

"Where do you think you're going?" King Vegeta roared.

"To tell Frieza that we will not accept his terms," the queen returned, looking idly over her shoulder. "I will not kneel to anyone, Vegeta. I would rather die."

"Then die you shall!" A huge energy bomb swirled upon the King's hand as he looked after his queen with the utmost hatred. Or was it envy? Bulma couldn't tell. Teraynia watched the blast grow with a sort of resigned interest, then met her husband's gaze without a hint of fear; it was almost as if she was daring him to do it.

"So you are that afraid, my husband," she murmured. "You are that afraid of what might be. Instead of accepting the possibility of death, you turn your back on the chance at life. Instead of facing your weakness, you kneel to it."

"I do not kneel to Frieza," the king spat. "I am doing what is best for our people!"

"By binding their ankles to their wrists and placing them atop the cliff of Frieza's mercy?" She gave another glimmering laugh. "Then you have just agreed with me. I never said you kneel to Frieza. You kneel to your own fear."

The king roared incoherently as his eyes burned wild with rage. The blast reached its pinnacle size and he reared back to release it. The prince was on his feet, black eyes wide as he opened his mouth to stop his father.

But it was too late.

The room trembled with the power of the blast; several of the ruby chandeliers fell to the ground. When the dust cleared, there was nothing left of Teraynia - just a charred, crackling hole in the onyx floor.

Panting, King Vegeta turned back to his son, who was standing motionless on the edge of the dais, eyes wide and unblinking as he stared at the place where he had seen his mother fall. He held out his hand, still crackling with energy, to the boy and beckoned him forward.

"You will come with me now," King Vegeta said quietly. "Frieza waits to accept you into his ranks. You will be the salvation of our people, my son. You will lead them to glory!"

The image started to fade. The onyx room swirled together with the soft ruby light, with the little Vegeta at the center of the whirling vortex. Bulma watched the boy step down from the dais and start after his father, but not before casting one last glance through the skylight at the bloated ship above.

"I promise you, mother," he whispered, his small fist clenching tightly at his side. "I promise you I will never be as weak as my father. I will never kneel to anyone! Never! And one day…" A single tear slipped down his nose, and he wiped it angrily away with the hem of his glove. "One day, I will destroy Frieza. I will not die until he falls!"

"What's your problem, woman? You're getting me all wet!"

Bulma's eyes flickered open. She was once more back in the chrome cell, leaning heavily against her husband's chest, her hand clenched tightly in the blue fighting outfit. Trunks had slipped to the floor and was anxiously looking around the room. One of his chubby fingers was wrapped tightly around Vegeta's finger, and the prince eyed him with a mixture of confusion and disgust. Bulma brought her hand to her cheek and found it wet with tears. Giving a soft groan, she pressed her face into his chest.

"Nightmare," she murmured. Then she looked up into his eyes. The black pupils were cold and cynical as ever, but there was the haunting image of the young princeling as he stared after his mother… Swallowing hard, she slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him close. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, kissing his collarbone. Somehow she knew, just like last time, that what she had just witnessed was not a dream but a memory of her prince's past, and that he still held onto it underneath all the sarcasm and toughness of his demeanor.

"What are you talking about?" Vegeta snorted. "Sorry for what? Landing me in this mess? Well, you should be. Any idea why the hell I can't move?" he demanded.

"You were hit with paralysis darts," Bulma explained, moving her fingers up to touch the wounds on his neck. "As far as I know, the effects aren't permanent, but it will leave you unable to cause trouble for at least a couple hours." A couple hours we don't have, she added bitterly in her mind. "What time is it?"
"How should I know?" he snarled. "I can't move an inch, not even to turn my head. I've been stuck listening to you snore and watching the lights blink on and off."

Bulma rolled her eyes and sat up. "So did Andy bring any food for us while I was asleep?" she asked. Maybe she could figure out how long she'd been out by how cold the food was.

Vegeta snorted. "Yeah. He left it by the door a while ago. Treacherous bastard," he spat."

Nodding idly, she got up and went to pick up the tray. On it was two loaves of bread, a pitcher of water and glasses, and a few rolls of turkey laid neatly on a napkin. Despite the hatred burning in her heart, she found her mouth watering as she brought it back over to where her husband and son lay.

"I guess it's not much, but it'll have to do." She sat down and began to break the bread apart. Laying a few small pieces in front of Trunks, she turned to Vegeta and held larger chunk up in front of his mouth. "Since you're paralyzed from the neck down, you're going to have let me feed you."

"Like hell!" Vegeta sniffed.

"Don't be stupid!" Bulma yelled. "If you want to live to help me kick that bastard's ass, you're going to at least have to eat something." She pressed the bread against his lips. "Please, Vegeta!"

The black eyes stared down at her in defiance, and he kept his lips pursed tightly together. After a few moments of neither moving, Bulma finally threw up her hands and shoved the bread into her own mouth. "There, you happy now?" she growled around the chunk in her mouth. "Now I'll have to beat his ass all by myself and you won't get to help."

"As if you could."

"I don't care if I could or not, I'm still gonna try!" Bulma bit off another piece of the bread. It tasted delicious on her starved tongue, and she shoved in even more. Trunks looked up at her and laughed, clapping his chubby little hands together at the sight of his mom looking like a chipmunk with a mouthful of nuts. Bulma managed a smile, and she picked up Trunks and hugged him close to her heart.

A few moments passed in silence. Then Bulma looked up at her husband, and, swallowing her mouthful of bread, reached out a tender hand and laid it on his forehead.

"You know, Vegeta," she said quietly. "When I made that bet, I wasn't really thinking about your feelings. I was only thinking of myself. And now I realize…even though I didn't really know it at the time…that I could never ask you to kneel for me. You're a prince. I'm…I'm just me."

"Huh." Vegeta closed his eyes. "Maybe you have a brain in your head after all." But he sounded troubled; she could practically see the wheels turning in his mind.

"But you have to understand," she went on, "that when the three days are up, I will have to stay with Andy. I'm not going to break a promise, even if it was stupid on my part. You'll have to take Trunks and go back to Capsule Corp and raise him."

"My promise," he murmured, raising his eyes to the ceiling.

Bulma could feel the tears rising in her throat once again, and she turned to fuss with the baby to hide them from Vegeta. "Yes, your promise. You've never broken one, Vegeta, and I don't expect you to start now."

"You know nothing of broken promises, woman!" he said forcefully. "At that stupid ceremony, I made a promise to 'love and protect' you. I have not. Even though I don't believe in this concept of love, I have failed to protect you from this bastard Andy. At the Cell Games, I made a promise to defeat Cell and the Androids with my own two hands. I did not." His voice lowered considerably until it was almost a whisper. "And I made a promise to my mother to destroy Frieza. I did not." He looked up at her with a cold fire burning in his eyes. "How can I call myself a Saiyan Prince if my honor is naught but a word!"

Of everything he said, the last, almost whispered bit was what seemed to hurt him the most. The bitter rage had been building up since his mother's death, weighing on his concept of honor like a tumor lodged upon his heart. The look on his face tore at Bulma's heart, and before she knew it, she had pressed her lips against his.

"You avenged your mother," she said quietly, cupping his face in her hands. Vegeta grimaced and looked away. Twisting her head around, she positioned herself so that she could look him in the eye. "Your son destroyed Frieza. Cell was defeated, and only with your help. And you…" her voice caught in her throat, and she smiled through a haze of tears. "You came for me."

"The bastard took what was mine," Vegeta said uncomfortably, eyes darting to and from her face. "And you have my heir--!"

"Shh." Bulma stroked his face with the tips of her fingers.

Vegeta was quiet for a moment. Then his brow furrowed , and he glared down into her blue eyes. "How did you know about my mother?" he rasped. "Tell me, woman! How did you know?"

"I…I…" How do I tell him? "I saw it in a dream, I guess. I don't know how, but I've been having dreams about your past…"

Vegeta paled. "Then you know…" He bit his lip hard, a furious scowl spreading across his strong features. "You know how my father betrayed us. Damn, woman! How could you know!"

"That doesn't matter. Please, Vegeta, just know that I understand why you won't kneel to your enemies." She took his limp hand and gave it a warm squeeze. "I understand that you can't fulfill Andy's terms. It's okay." Oh, God, I'm letting him go. I'm letting him go for good. "I understand that you want to be as strong as your mother."

"Don't say it like that!" Vegeta snapped. "You make me sound like some sniveling child crying for its mommy. All I want is for her to know that her son is not as weak as her fool of a husband." Closing his eyes, he snapped his mouth shut to show that the conversation was over. Bulma watched him for a few minutes, then lifted her face to the skylight. The sun was setting - or was it rising? - in the distance, marking the limited time she had left as the prince's wife. She now saw exactly what Andy had planned; he had paralyzed Vegeta for exactly three days, and the minute the time was up he would send the prince back to Capsule Corp and keep her there forever. Being paralyzed during his stay, he would not be able to retaliate against the inventor, and neither would he kneel. Bulma would be forced to accept the fact that her prince didn't love her, and she would never try to return to the life she'd leave behind. The plan was flawless.

Noticing the heavy rise and fall of her husband's chest, she sighed and brushed her fingers across her eyes. "You've shown that strength and more, Vegeta," she murmured. Turning to the side, she gathered Trunks into her arms and hefted herself to her feet. "And I could not ask more of you. I only wish I could be your queen a little longer." She ran her eyes across the prince's muscular body and bit her lip. "You couldn't kneel even if you wanted to," she said bitterly. "Thanks a lot, Andy. Thanks for taking away everything I care about."

)…( )…(

"I knew this would happen!" Andy growled, bashing his fists against the arms of the chair. He removed the virtual helmet and tossed it across the room. "That drug I gave her was too strong. She's seeing his past; this wasn't supposed to happen! If she delves too far…" He bit his lip and folded his arms. "…She'll find the one way she can get out of this. And then she'll be lost to me forever…"

He turned and walked across the room to a file cabinet placed at the corner of the room. Opening the third drawer down, he removed a disk from beneath a stack of papers. Printed across the label were the words 'The Saiyan Past'. He clenched his fist around the small disk.

"This wasn't supposed to be personal," he grated, "but personal is exactly what it has become. My master's revenge against the Saiyan Prince was not supposed to affect me. But apparently there is a heart in the machine after all."

(A/N: Hehehehe Andy's not human! Hope you don't have to wait too long for the next chapter, but I've got such a busy schedule, so I'm sorry if I don't get it up right away. BTW, itooshi means beloved, for those of you who don't know Japanese very well. R&R, hope you stick with me for the next weird, twisted, and angsty chapters yet to come. Peace.)