Working with Bulma was as draining as any endeavor that was just a means to a higher-end felt like. Chayote merely described that which felt like common knowledge of things she had no deeper understanding of and made drawings that resembled parts from plenty of wreckages of Saiyan technology that she'd seen on Planet Vegeta. She based some of them on things that Chayote had disassembled herself. A cooling unit housing processed meat or a healing pod that one could have rewired to provide a minty-fresh soda-like drink instead of its medicinal liquid.
And yet as unaware and useless as Chayote felt pointing all those simple things out, Bulma seemed entranced by them as she kept staring down at those plans with an intense look, scratching her head or rubbing her chin. The woman mumbled scientific jargon to herself, made corrections of Chayote's blueprints, and littered them with arrows, numbers and symbols, mathematical formulae. Every time there was no more space to add anything to the blueprint, the woman shined and jumped in joy, running around with her blueprint raised over her head like she had just given birth and wanted the world to know it.
Chayote took that as a sign of a successful partnership, and that she was doing her part and soon enough Bulma would do hers. In the first half of the day, the two spent planning and drawing the work that Bulma and Dr. Brief would put together in the second half, while Chayote used the Capsule Corps facilities to train. At first, Vegeta just wouldn't stand the idea of sharing the Extreme Conditions Test Chamber with Chayote and occupied it solely for himself. It wasn't like Chayote didn't feel sickened to spend her days under the same roof as the Saiyan punk that had forced a Great Ape transformation onto her and almost made her kill her own friends and destroy her own little corner of paradise.
She would never forgive him for that. Even if Bulma tolerated him spending his days on Capsule Corp.
"Could you build me another Extreme Conditions Test Chamber?" Chayote wondered. "Maybe, since we're designing spaceships, you could do one with it built inside it. That way, I could train in the warehouse or something. I'm not seeing much use to my training under these normal circumstances."
"Hmm… Vegeta's occupying it for you, huh? No wonder, that guy just doesn't like to share his things. Must be how he was raised… I'm just glad that keeping him busy in the chamber settled him down somewhat. He's not talking about conquering the Earth or killing everyone nearly as much. All he does is spend time in that chamber working out and eat." Bulma sighed. "I'm going to need a few parts from the chamber if I am to design a copy. There's no way I'll let my favorite assistant just train in a dark, damp warehouse! I'm going to build you your own spaceship and park it outside. It'll have everything you need."
That was a lot of babbling to distract Chayote from the fundamental two problems: she'd have to be within punching distance to Vegeta and have to restrain herself as well as she'd have to tell him he'll have to stop training meanwhile Bulma analyzes and makes molds and copies of the parts. Chayote wasn't entirely sure that she could behave under so much pressure and not break loose.
"I can talk to him if you feel anxious. He listens to me sometimes. It's like he knows that if I get mad at him, he won't be able to train and eat the way he does now… That's my power over him, in a way!" Bulma showed her teeth with a malicious grin. If Chayote would have had to guess, Bulma looked almost a little excited to go see him and talk to him. That couldn't have possibly been the case, though. Who in their right mind would have felt shivers hoping to see that jackass?
"No, that's fine. I have a few things to talk to him about anyway…" Chayote sighed. She didn't rush to the room brimming with Vegeta's Ki and the reek of his sweat that somehow broke through the strict and iron-tight containment of the chamber which prevented the extreme conditions from leaking out. Chayote pressed a button on the door from the outside, which forcefully disabled Vegeta's set extreme conditions, and opened the door.
"I can sense your energy, you know. There's no use in just staring me down. If you want to kill me and become the queen of Saiyans, even though that's not quite how it works, you're more than welcome to take your best shot." Vegeta wiped the sweat off of his bandaged forehead as ruined drones littered the ground and detonated shortly after their fall. The man had been pushing himself even through moderate training injuries, showing no mercy to his body. This wasn't how the Earthling martial artists trained, though Chayote wondered if Vegeta's Zenkai wouldn't compensate for the burnt training potential after he fully recovers.
"I need you to stop training for a bit while Bulma works on a few parts." Chayote hissed, showing no love in her tone.
"Oh? She's finally going to upgrade this joint? About time. I've been just about growing bored with these so-called extreme conditions now…" Vegeta turned to her and crossed his arms over his chest, turning away with a sneer on his face. "Fine, I guess I could go get some grub a bit earlier if she'll finish the work up by evening."
"Upgrade? What makes you think that? Maybe you broke something with how much you've been tearing this room apart day by day?" Chayote placed her hands on her hips, squinting her right eye in mockery of the Saiyan royalty.
"Even so, I'd rather shift my schedule around now than have the room disabled. How is her space tourism project going?" Vegeta approached a small duffel bag with a Capsule Corps logo on it placed outside the room, approaching Chayote almost close enough for their foreheads to touch and nearly making her belch with his sweaty smell but the female Saiyan didn't want to be the one to give way and move. With two equally stubborn spirits clashing, they rubbed chests as Vegeta slipped out and picked his bag up, taking out two wet towels to wipe his sweat off and a couple of bottles of water that he emptied at once.
"What business is it of yours? Interested in Bulma's affairs?" Chayote slapped back in his face with a hint of teasing that must have slashed through the king's nerves like a razor rubbing against his scrotum.
"Don't be ridiculous!" Vegeta barked out, spitting an entire mouthful of his water over his tense muscles as he crushed the empty bottle and threw it at the ground. "I just can't wait until she makes some suitable transportation for me and the Saiyans to depart this miserable planet!"
"Aren't you going to wait until we wish Planet Vegeta back in order with the Dragon Balls?" Chayote wondered.
"Humph, we don't need to wait this long. Despite that woman's impressive engineering skills, it will still take us whole months to return home with how many spaceships it will take to carry our entire reborn race back home. We don't have to stay here the whole time." Vegeta sneered and turned his disgusted expression away from Chayote.
"Just so we're clear, you will leave our planet alone after this." Chayote sharpened her glare. She didn't rush through these words since she wanted their full weight to linger and for the king of Saiyans to feel it.
"You don't need to burden those fragile shoulders of yours," Vegeta mocked Chayote. "Kakarot and I have struck a bargain back on Planet Vegeta. He held up his end and so the Saiyans will leave Earth alone for now. We have no interest in this far-off corner of the galaxy, anyway. That being said, this will only make up for our present interactions. If you stand in the way of the Saiyan race in the future–your fate will not differ from the rest of our enemies. This I can promise you as a super-elite king of all Saiyans!"
"There's one more thing I wanted to know. When you came back to life, you were quite stronger than how you were back on Planet Vegeta. I've never imagined that Zenkai could work when we die. Is that true?" Chayote asked.
"Nothing of the sort." Vegeta turned away with a grumpy look. "After I died…" his voice lingered. He didn't want to tell this to Chayote initially. "I ended up in a strange place. I barely remember anything from that time but I was in a dark, cold and limitless space, and Kakarot was there too. So were you… Both of you attacked and beat me mercilessly, again and again, toying with me like I was just an afternoon snack with those ridiculous transformations of yours!"
Vegeta clenched his fists. He shook as he spoke and the deep-seated emotions he had inside of him bubbled up from within, itching to break loose so the proud Saiyan elite had to close his eyes not to show weakness even though Chayote could only see his back from how he stood before her.
"Whether it was because of a curse or a gift, no matter how badly you hurt me, how mercilessly you crushed me under your heels, I couldn't die. Every time I'd come back for more punishment and you'd seek to find me out and humiliate me over and over!" Vegeta hunched over, putting up his hands and grabbing over his face. "It was the worst kind of torture imaginable. Trapped in absolutely nowhere, robbed of most of my senses with two low-class trash flaunting their superior power for what felt like all eternity! Though I suppose that torture wasn't entirely without merit. When you fight hopeless battles for months that drag out to entire centuries in that endless, frigid void, you're bound to strengthen your skill, willpower, and body eventually."
"Feels like you've taken a deep dive all the way down to Hell. If I were you, I'd do everything in my power to mend my ways so that I never have to come back to a place like that ever again," Chayote sighed. She had expected to have a uniquely horrendous experience talking to the Saiyan king in here and possibly even breaking loose of the constraints that she had placed on herself and breaking control that she's learned over all those years. And yet… She had never expected to relate to that serpent or feel pity for him. That experience only made it all feel worse, somehow.
"Chayote, jeez! What's taking you so long!" Bulma's voice made Chayote tip her neck and freeze while Vegeta turned around with an angry look to stab his scornful glare at the scientific prodigy standing in the doorway. "Don't tell me that after three entire weeks working with me, you still don't know what an atomistic stat unit and a Hawking rad regulator look like…"
"Woman…" Vegeta muttered in acknowledgment of Bulma's presence. Chayote dashed to the other end of the room and peeled a rigid titanium plate open like it was plucking a feather from a chicken. The Saiyan scratched the back of her head, going through the notes of the parts she needed. Bulma approached from behind and touched Chayote on her shoulder.
"That's fine. I'll take it from here. You've picked the right parts so far. Nice work!" Bulma cheered on her with an approving nod before rolling up her sleeves and diving into the complex web of wirework, microchips, and control panels. Behind the adamant walls of this chamber, there was an entire cybernetic universe of its own, with its own gleaming stars of every color lighting up and going out, just about as dark as the cold and merciless abyss up above, too. "You can go have the rest of the day to yourself, Chayote. Go out into the city, treat yourself for once while I get your training chambers in order. Better yet, go find a boyfriend or something."
An awkward silence reigned in the Extreme Conditions Test Chamber after Chayote had left. Bulma had been halfway submerged inside the open wall, screwing various parts out and disconnecting thick wiring that held the needed pieces together. Vegeta stood there in his signature stoic expression, throwing a few glances at Bulma's sticking out legs from the wall once in a while.
"What's the matter? Just realized that you don't have any way of making yourself useful?" Bulma wondered, having noticed a few chilling shivers going down her back, as she had that uncanny feeling that she was being watched once in a while.
"Do you have a mate, woman?" Vegeta asked bitterly. Bulma jumped up and became entangled in wiring from the sudden nature of his question. She began thrashing about like a dinosaur inside of a crowded museum. With the outburst of sparks and the power going out, eventually, Vegeta had to lend a hand in pulling her out by removing a few loops of wiring and lifting off some hefty scrap boxes that had landed awkwardly on the engineer after she had unwired them by accident in her rampage.
"What kind of question is that!?" Bulma smacked Vegeta across the face. Her slap bounced off of him as if she had tried slapping at an air-tight surface of a spaceship that could withstand space travel and cosmic storms. It made Bulma's palm burn up, but it felt strangely satisfying.
"It's just that you shouldn't expect your lackeys to follow you unless you lead by example. It's something I realized in the past few days. I want to be the exact opposite as king to what Frieza was as an emperor and what that bastard Ginyu did while impersonating my father." Vegeta explained himself with a grungy tone. "You shouldn't expect that wench to see the benefits of starting a family if she sees her mistress do the exact opposite, that's all."
"You reek!" Bulma pinched her nose before lightening her pressure. Despite the sting at her nostrils, she secretly took a few more whiffs in, realizing that the stench felt strangely alluring, similar to how spicy foods had an attraction to it, despite having a unique taste that was corrosive to the buds. "Earthlings don't talk about that sort of thing with complete strangers out in the open like this! I'd have thought that a king would have had some manners!"
"Don't make me laugh." Vegeta crossed his arms after placing Bulma back down on the ground. "Relationship is an elementary matter, involving some ridiculous rituals to courtship only makes things more complicated and makes you waste more time on such trivialities. You get down to business, speak your mind, do the deed and go back to training and eating. You, Earthlings, have a lot to learn even though you call us savages."
"You're just like Yamcha!" Bulma pouted her lips and blew her cheeks out. "Always looking for training and fighting and only remembering those you love when you need something from them! There's always another excuse with that guy why he can't spend any time with his girlfriend!"
"You don't understand it at all." Vegeta shook his head. "Accompany me to the shower, woman. I'll explain it to you on our way there. Fighting isn't an excuse not to do something. Fighting is a way of life, eating and procreating are pleasures meant for balance. You'd never catch a Saiyan eating to avoid fighting just like you'd never catch a Saiyan mating to avoid either of the other two as well, or the other way around. If you don't need complex reasons for either of the three, you can easily balance all of them."
Bulma watched Vegeta from behind as he slipped out of his shorts and stepped into the showering pod in the washroom of the sports complex of the building. He had shown so few scruples to liberate himself in front of her that Bulma didn't have the time to look away and once he had shown off his physical gifts in full display to her, there was just no use in doing so at that point. The king of Saiyans didn't appear to mind at all either. In fact, he only encouraged Bulma by giving her strict glares that switched their object from his bandages to her.
"I'll… I'll help you clean…" Bulma muttered, as if she had any control over her own movements, having committed this much into it already. Wondering what delirious nonsense she just said as she grabbed the sponge from him and reached for the spots where Vegeta's overtaxed muscles and recovering bones and joints didn't let him reach.
"Your hands are trembling, woman. You're still holding yourself back. You don't need complex reasons or rituals to be with a man just like you don't need one to pick a fight." Vegeta turned back to Bulma, looking almost mad at her as she held herself back from making more voracious and ambitious scrubs.
"I'm worried that I might hurt you, you jerk!" Bulma answered his crudeness with her own. "You should really pull back on your training some. You need to put that right arm of yours in a cast and look at all those scrapes!"
"Those drones you keep in your warehouse, they pack quite a punch. They impressed me a little, they'd have been able to kill me if I was as weak as I was when I first attacked the Earth with Nappa," Vegeta observed, scanning his own slowly healing bruises and scars. Without the aid of Saiyan technology, recovery from injuries sustained in training seemed to take forever and a day more if one didn't stop training to rest their body and kept going too far.
"Those were Dr. Puri's reserve drones!" Bulma gasped. "You destroyed all of them?"
"I've been careful to reserve them. They seemed to be the only adequate training tools here, nothing as impressive as your chamber but a viable addition to it. So I made sure to only crush a few every day. Whoever this Dr. Puri was, she made a heap of impressive junk, junk, compared to your extreme conditions room nonetheless." Vegeta smirked with cocky brashness exuding from every soapy pore of his body.
"Come with me!" Bulma grabbed hold of Vegeta's hand, forcing him out of the shower with his pride still exposed and soapy foams flying in all directions as the baffled Saiyan king became as flustered as Bulma was just a few seconds previously.
"W-Wait a second, woman!" he muttered. "You left the water running… It's a treasured resource that over sixty percent of the universe is lacking!"
Bulma slammed Vegeta's back against the doorway as the mechanical door failed to open in time. A feat only possible because the Saiyan king allowed her to do so.
"You said it, not me. This doesn't have to mean anything. Don't mind the water, we'll need another shower after this anyway, so it's good to keep it warm." Bulma smirked as she pushed Vegeta inside while the door finally performed its function and opened up.