Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.
Author's Note: The weekend is over. YAY!! ( She cheered weakly as she staggered back to her computer.) End of cliffhanger. Thanks to my reviewer. And I'll get to Goten's feelings soon enough. I couldn't ignore Goten for long.
Chapter 8: She Laughed
Instead, she laughed.
She seemed to smile at her brother, saying, "You really did it. I always knew you would. You are just full of surprises. I wonder . . . which of us was first."
Before Vegeta could react, Jita had made the same transformation - blonde hair, aqua eyes. Vegeta gave a small smile. He had almost expected this.
The two continued their fight with renewed vigor as the four astonished warriors continued to watch. Goku watched with great interest. He had rarely seen Vegeta in an actual life-or-death battle that he wasn't involved in or unconscious. He also noticed something very strange. "Her technique," he whispered to himself.
"What was that?" Gohan inquired, eyes still glued to the fight.
Goku seemed to be trying to figure something out. "Usually someone will stick to a pattern in their fighting style. I can usually figure out the pattern. So can anyone, I guess. But her - I don't think she even has a pattern. She has an incredible variety of techniques - most I've never seen - and she's completely random. I can tell she was trained first by Vegeta from the foundations of her style, but where did she learn how to fight after that? She fights - like - a demon."
Trunks squinted in concentration at the movements. "I think Dad realizes there is no pattern. He's becoming extremely adaptable. Plus, she expects him to fight like her. Dad gets her with repetition."
"Why are you people so calm?!" uttered an angry Bulma behind them. Trunks turned in surprise. Videl and Chichi, along with Bulma, had walked the short distance to the Son house, hoping to find Pan and Bra. But Bulma had apparently returned. "We're here to defend Dad if it comes to that. But why did you come back?" Trunks replied calmly.
Bulma tried to take on the calm demeanor of her son, but couldn't hide her worry and anger. "I couldn't stand it. I know who she is and shy she is here, and I have to be here. I've been fearing this day for longer than you've known. And there's no way you can make me go." So no one objected.
After a furious series of attacks, the two fighters faced each other, catching their breath. Both had been aware of the modifications to their audience, and Jita smirked, saying, in the Saiyan language, "Is that woman actually your mate?" The only response she received was a deepened scowl. "And your son is also watching. Your son! A family! That was something I never expected."
"What did you expect?" Vegeta answered tightly, also in Saiyan.
"I didn't expect you to be alive. I heard Frieza killed you shortly before his own death, and that you had not been heard from again, not even in hell. Have you been here all this time? A home and a family. Where's the ruthless wandering warrior prince I knew so many years ago? All grown up? Or dead?" After a pause she remarked, "I guess it doesn't really matter."
And the fighting resumed.
Author's Note: The weekend is over. YAY!! ( She cheered weakly as she staggered back to her computer.) End of cliffhanger. Thanks to my reviewer. And I'll get to Goten's feelings soon enough. I couldn't ignore Goten for long.
Chapter 8: She Laughed
Instead, she laughed.
She seemed to smile at her brother, saying, "You really did it. I always knew you would. You are just full of surprises. I wonder . . . which of us was first."
Before Vegeta could react, Jita had made the same transformation - blonde hair, aqua eyes. Vegeta gave a small smile. He had almost expected this.
The two continued their fight with renewed vigor as the four astonished warriors continued to watch. Goku watched with great interest. He had rarely seen Vegeta in an actual life-or-death battle that he wasn't involved in or unconscious. He also noticed something very strange. "Her technique," he whispered to himself.
"What was that?" Gohan inquired, eyes still glued to the fight.
Goku seemed to be trying to figure something out. "Usually someone will stick to a pattern in their fighting style. I can usually figure out the pattern. So can anyone, I guess. But her - I don't think she even has a pattern. She has an incredible variety of techniques - most I've never seen - and she's completely random. I can tell she was trained first by Vegeta from the foundations of her style, but where did she learn how to fight after that? She fights - like - a demon."
Trunks squinted in concentration at the movements. "I think Dad realizes there is no pattern. He's becoming extremely adaptable. Plus, she expects him to fight like her. Dad gets her with repetition."
"Why are you people so calm?!" uttered an angry Bulma behind them. Trunks turned in surprise. Videl and Chichi, along with Bulma, had walked the short distance to the Son house, hoping to find Pan and Bra. But Bulma had apparently returned. "We're here to defend Dad if it comes to that. But why did you come back?" Trunks replied calmly.
Bulma tried to take on the calm demeanor of her son, but couldn't hide her worry and anger. "I couldn't stand it. I know who she is and shy she is here, and I have to be here. I've been fearing this day for longer than you've known. And there's no way you can make me go." So no one objected.
After a furious series of attacks, the two fighters faced each other, catching their breath. Both had been aware of the modifications to their audience, and Jita smirked, saying, in the Saiyan language, "Is that woman actually your mate?" The only response she received was a deepened scowl. "And your son is also watching. Your son! A family! That was something I never expected."
"What did you expect?" Vegeta answered tightly, also in Saiyan.
"I didn't expect you to be alive. I heard Frieza killed you shortly before his own death, and that you had not been heard from again, not even in hell. Have you been here all this time? A home and a family. Where's the ruthless wandering warrior prince I knew so many years ago? All grown up? Or dead?" After a pause she remarked, "I guess it doesn't really matter."
And the fighting resumed.
