Summary: In New York, Bulma thinks of Vegeta in textures. In Hegemone with family, the prince reflects on her openness with him.
Brooklyn: 11 a.m., Nov. 24, Tuesday
"Fairy Tales"
It had been two weeks since Vegeta departed New York and Bulma still craved cigarettes to pacify her senses. The prince rocked her world during their final afternoon together and knew it. He skipped out the door like a victorious football player after the "conquest." Of course, in Bulma's mind they had a tie: Vegeta gave as well as he received. Her head cold disappeared within a day, too. She would never, ever tell him that part, though. She imagined him crowing triumphantly about his "healing of the sick" as if he were a mystical shaman. Maybe he caught her cold! It would have been sweet revenge for using her weakened condition to ravish her.
"Yeah, right." She smiled. Her sketching paper's roughened grooves reminded her of his gravelly voice. The lilies he bought were thriving beautifully, too - a perfect decoration for her Thanksgiving dinner table later that week. She wished him well and that he could recover from his drinking problem without anyone undermining him. Even if the news got out, she expected that Nappa would handle the situation carefully. She hoped he could.
She would miss feeling every inch of the prince, watching him take and give directions, and seeing him explore sensations that had been foreign to him. There was bondage, restraint and release, titillation, and so much more. Many "special relationships" like theirs never ended with romance or sex, but several had led to pleasurable, lifelong bonds. They were becoming friends, talking and holding and trusting each other more after every experience. Yet, for all of their days and nights together, they never had sex. Before he left, they did - and Bulma knew that if they crossed paths again, their passion would shatter walls like thin glass. She shuddered. Touching herself to relieve her lust for his body inside of hers again had become addictive. Mornings were the best and worst times for her arousal. One day she meowed from a window to shake it off, laughing, until some curious cats on the ground returned her yowls.
She wondered if the prince's opening up to her caused the emotional overload Zeus warned her about; thus, Vegeta's increased drinking to cope. Now she had mixed feelings and, perhaps, some guilt over it. She probably would have reconsidered getting involved with him in this way. Still, she learned more of his story, as she intended, and he learned hers. He also sought help from her, allowing himself to show vulnerability differently - a significant breakthrough. Their connection hadn't ended per se. For now, she would witness the rest of his story from afar. That's what she expected, and that's what she accepted.
She had gone silent about Vegeta since his departure, too. Wisely, Zeus didn't broach the subject; he just observed. Bulma was locking her evolving feelings away in a vault – possibly throwing away the key. In effect, she and Vegeta seemed to be switching places emotionally. At least that's what Zeus thought. He hadn't seen light in her eyes about anyone like this in years, and he wanted it to stay there. But with the prince? Heavens. Vegeta was a powder keg of a man whose imperfections were legion.
At first Zeus thought he was crazy to consider any of this. He was concerned from the beginning, but a part of him still believed in fairy tales. Maybe all he could do was wish for a united Hegemone – and, then, for the return of an emerging king to claim his intended queen. Only time would tell.
"I may take a photo assignment in Hegemone, sweetie."
Bulma, who was dressing a mannequin, chewed harder on a pencil hanging from her mouth. "Why?"
"Why not be where the action is? Lots happening there."
"I suppose. Earth is a big place. Don't use my connection with the prince of all Saiyans to assist your work."
"That would be stupid," Zeus said, laughing. "I wouldn't put it past Vegeta to boil people in oil when he's pissed, so don't worry about that. Let me tell you, honey, baby oil is the only moisturizer that I want to be covered in."
She winked at him. "As long as someone attractive covers you with it."
Cerinthe, Hegemone: 11 a.m., Nov. 30, Monday
"My Brother's Keeper"
Vegeta and Nappa had spoken little on their return flight. All discussions focused on business matters, which suited them. The unforced silence gave them emotional space to think about their official duties, and both agreed for the time being not to tell Danae about their bitter fight or Vegeta's drinking. Now, almost two weeks later, the prince sat alone in his mother's rose garden. He considered it sacred space since she banned anyone from arguing or conducting business there. He wiped his nose and coughed – having caught Bulma's "sniffles" - and tried to keep his mind off vodka. Nappa privately arranged treatment for his drinking, which Vegeta agreed to without further protest. He had to rise above the emotional triggers that caused him to lose himself in booze. Despite that, being home and hearing others' enthusiasm about the U.N. speech revived his sense of purpose. He pondered Bulma's words: "Return to Hegemone. That is where you should be right now. I am not going anywhere."
She was mostly correct, but what about the last part? Though he left their "arrangement," she had become a new friend. How many true friends had he made in recent memory? Zero. Bulma tried to understand him, and now he desired sharing more about himself than just sex – although he wouldn't reject continuing that part. He closely observed her other relationships as well. People fell all over themselves offering kindnesses to her. In particular, her intimacy with Zeus made him jealous. Their friendship seemed so perfect, much like the roses surrounding him. Not being able to attend the White House dinner wasn't helping his mood either.
"You will probably look stunning tonight, tiger lily." He gazed at the only personal photo he had of her, on his phone.
"Who are you talking to, brother? You look sad. I heard you coughing. Are you sick again?"
Vegeta looked up. "I'm thinking out loud, and I still have the same cold. This happens sometimes when people don't get proper rest, which I have not."
He chuckled to himself, relieved that his brother couldn't read his mind. This is the best cold I've ever had in my life. If this is my gift from having mind-blowing sex, then hand me another box of tissues and some NyQuil.
"Are you angry with me?"
Vegeta moved aside for Tarble to sit next to him. "Of course not. I have many other people to be angry with who deserve it. I don't think you could do anything to make me angry. Why do you ask?"
"You don't talk much now."
Vegeta smirked. "I usually don't talk much."
"That's not true, Vegeta!" Tarble held his head down. "You always talk to me. Are you going away again?"
"Are you afraid I might not come back? Is that what these questions are about, Tarble?"
"I guess so."
"Look at me. I think of you often while I'm away, and I will do a better job of spending time with you when I'm here. If I don't keep my promise, say you're angry and that I must plant vegetables in your garden."
Vegeta felt like his toenails were being pulled with hot pliers after making that promise. Tarble appeared excited - and somewhat unconvinced.
"You really, really hate planting vegetables."
"That's right, brat." He nodded and scowled dramatically, making his brother laugh. "Anything else you want to talk about?"
"Nope," Tarble said, grinning. "Well, um, I heard mother say she hopes you will find a nice girl to marry."
"Did she now?" Vegeta leaned in. "She said this to whom?"
His brother knew that look. He had said too much. "I hope the cold goes away. Bye!"
"Bye."
Vegeta sighed. Tarble would always be his little brother, and he cared deeply for him. As he aged, the king focused solely on young man's "mental defects." Vegeta, however, saw a kind soul, untainted by their cynicism, who never stopped being curious or truthful. As a lad, the elder prince beat the hell out of their cousin Raditz for cruelly calling Tarble "retarded." It never happened again. Danae once told Nappa that despite Vegeta's demanding ways, the general shouldn't underestimate their son's capacity for compassion. Tarble's disability had taught him much. Sometimes, Vegeta's moodiness had been unfairly dismissed as bratty when, rather, he just didn't suffer fools - and insincerity pissed him off. He never cared to correct their judgments about him when they were wrong – a mental defense mechanism he carried into adulthood. Everyone was fair game. For him, there was no better teacher about human nature than seeing how poorly others treated people like his beloved brother.
12:15 p.m. – "Cursed Shall You Be"
"Danae."
"To what do I owe the, um, pleasure of this visit, nephew?"
"To see your eldest, of course." Raditz bowed, placing his hand over his heart. "I am starting to believe that he is avoiding me."
"He's only been back for two weeks, Raditz."
He held out his arm. "Yes, and I heard he's seen everyone but me. Would you let me escort you? Uncle Vegeta says you haven't been feeling well lately. How are you?"
The queen gritted her teeth. For all of the king's paranoia, she wished he would have been more cautious discussing their personal business with others. Raditz, unfortunately, had become an "other" worthy of her suspicion. His contempt for her sons, fed by envy, boiled underneath his handsome smile and smooth mannerisms. The prince was masterful at irritating his cousin, too, which didn't help.
"Thank you for your concern, nephew, but I will walk on my own for now. Exercise is good for me. Is there anything I can help you with instead?"
"Vegeta represented our country well at the U.N."
Danae raised her eyebrow. "And?"
"My queen, Hegemone still cannot become a mere chess piece for outsiders – or for these foolish radicals among our citizenry. Our kingdom is walking a fine line. I have a say in these changes you're hoping for, and I am being denied my rightful place to express it as a member of this family."
"Raditz, no one has denied you a voice." Frustrated, Danae stopped walking. "You have been in my husband's and the governors' ears to the point of badgering them. What's more important? Getting your way or ensuring a peaceful political transition that helps everyone?"
He grunted. "Peace is highly overrated. We are Saiyans, remember?"
Danae pounded her cane on the floor angrily. "Spoken like one who has never fought in wars or heard gunfire outside of the front door! Your elders have, young man. Let me assure you, it's highly overrated."
Raditz looked up and chuckled. "Absolutely amazing. No matter what the prince of all brats does, you will always bend over backward to support him. A mother's love is a powerful, mind-altering drug."
Danae refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing more of her fury. In her younger days, she probably would have sliced him apart with her tongue. Still, she wasn't one to trifle with. "Oh, now I see. So I guess, then, that you were lying with the earlier compliment about my son."
"Actually, I wasn't. You should be proud of 'Mister Hope for a Better Future,' at least for now. I'm just wondering how long it will take before he loses his spirit. Don't tell me you haven't thought about this. Others choose to look away. I won't."
"Now you're crossing a red line with me, boy." She patted his shoulder and smiled. Her eyes were ice cold, though, as if she planned to carve out his heart and eat it raw. "Be very, very careful, darling."
He removed her hand and kissed it. "That's what I've always liked about you. Softness on the outside with an assassin's spirit inside. I see it in your eyes. My god, you would have been a wonderful spy for the royal intelligence service! A lovely one too!"
"Who says that I wasn't one? I'm tired of this rubbish. You are disrespecting yourself and me. I'm sure my son will find you when he's ready."
"You know I'm right about him, Danae. Vegeta is an angry, unhappy person. You should take some responsibility for allowing him to become that way, although the king's behavior is partially to blame for turning him into a mama's boy."
She slapped him. "Enough! Maybe you should look in the mirror, nephew. Your senseless jealousy has blackened your heart. You could have been as close as brothers. I would have liked seeing that. I have treated you kindly since you were children – and now you're in my home insulting me? How dare you. I always chastised Vegeta when he was wrong, unlike your parents did with you. Have you stopped loving me too?"
For a moment Raditz almost appeared ashamed. Danae hoped he was. Maybe he heard me. I can't have him and Vegeta going at each other's throats. I just don't have the strength to stop them anymore.
He cleared his throat and bowed. "I am…fond of you, Danae, but at my age I have higher bar for love. Loyalty is just as important, if not more, and I have made that abundantly clear."
"You have, cousin, just like a scratched record," Vegeta shouted from the corridor. "You wanted to see me, yes? Also, lunch is ready, mother. Use the elevator - and your wheelchair."
She frowned. "I don't need it."
"You should listen to your son, Danae. He knows what is best. "
Vegeta moved between them, placing his hand on her cheek. "It's okay. The duke over here is owed a visit with me. We'll be in the library for bit."
Raditz bowed again as the queen left. "How gracious of you, sire. I won't take much of your time. You don't appear to be feeling well today. You look somewhat pale."
Feeling a headache approaching, Vegeta rubbed his temples. "I have a cold. Now tell me you want. You aren't here for tea and cookies."
"Next steps," Raditz replied, handing him a magazine. "You look perfectly regal in this picture after the U.N. speech. I must say, you did well. However, I'm not content on waiting for the U.S. or anyone else's help to solve our problems."
"And I am not content with waging rash, poorly executed fights both within and outside of our country!" Vegeta retorted. "We cannot have needless bloodshed. We must lead by example."
"Ha!" Raditz walked around him, squinting. "Well, well, well. I am impressed with this selfless leader act. You have some nerve. The erstwhile, spendthrift playboy returns home to martyr himself for the greater good, along with our unfortunate family. Vegeta, you're just as selfish, hypocritical, dismissive, and nasty as you've always been. I am truly amazed by those who see you of all people as their saving grace."
"You mean jealous, Raditz? And, to the contrary, whatever support I have isn't based in cultish idol worship. I don't want or need that. My personality is what it has always been. I am gruff and can be harsh. I test others' patience routinely and, yes, I have my bratty ways – but I am no hypocrite. The difference between us, cousin, is my sincerity about our cause. Our people believe it, because it's real." Given his mood and tiredness, the prince had been more gracious than the other man realized. He was also observing him closely. If Raditz graduated to full-time enemy, a fail-safe plan would be needed stop him.
Raditz' lip curled into a sneer. "I wonder what people would think if they knew the truth about your so-called 'exhaustion' in the hospital. The smart ones know what that euphemism means. I figured out quickly. What's your addiction of choice: cocaine, alcohol, or pills? I'm fond of Quaaludes myself. You should try them sometime. Maybe I'm being presumptuous. Did you have an old-fashioned depressive breakdown instead? Come on, mate, you can tell me. We've been through a lot together."
"We have," Vegeta replied flatly, "but I won't allow your anger to dine on my flesh, now that it's almost through eating yours. I have enough of my own. Your horrible, disgusting father abused us both as boys until someone murdered him. I figured that one out, although for the life of me I wish I knew who did it. Consider us fortunate not to have killed ourselves by now – or each other. This conversation is through. I'll see you at the governors' assembly."
Raditz' face turned purple from rage. "Unbelievable! Danae's health is fading, and the king probably won't be long after that! Be your own man and walk in your own footsteps for once before she's no longer with us. If you don't want to be king, stop being a little bitch and hand the privilege to someone does. You can't be exhausted whenever it suits you. Hell, you can't even fight a cold - or are you craving another high?"
"Heh." The prince closed the library's door quietly and turned around. "You have always been a shit-talker. The problem is you're terrible at follow-through."
He kicked Raditz' legs from underneath him, flipped him around, and rammed his face on a table. A lamp and papers flew in opposite directions. The prince shook his head and smiled at the spectacle, but he felt no joy. He had been pushed to his limit. After pulling Raditz up by his hair, Vegeta's right arm smoothly wrapped around his cousin's neck, palms clutched together, until his left hand pressed the man's face against the back wall.
"Shall we continue, dear cousin of mine? I get to talk for as long as I want while you choke! Do you know the neck has seven vertebrae? Oops, I'm sorry! I guess you can't speak! Right now I'm deciding which bone to crush slowly – so listen well, you miserable, spiteful wretch. First, don't ever address mother by her first name again. That privilege is over. Second, if you as much as breathe another negative word about the king's and queen's health to anyone, I will gladly have my head and balls chopped off in public as punishment for murdering you. Third, whatever you're planning to spectacularly derail our political efforts, stop it. "
"Vegeta! Let him go!"
"Stay out of this, Nappa!"
Lowering his voice, the general walked behind them. "Let him go, sire. This can't continue. Let him go."
Vegeta looked up wearily at his father and ripped the royal crest from Raditz' shirt.
"This isn't about you, cousin, and if you care about our country the way say you do, then I suggest that you think harder. Hatred for me is blinding your judgment – and why are you surprised that we're fighting, Nappa? We've done this for years. I may never be a kind-hearted innocent like Abel from the Bible, but this self-righteous bastard would make a great substitute for his brother Cain."
Raditz fell on his knees, panting, after Vegeta released him. "I… am…am fine, general. He's right. We were long overdue for an argument, and I got one. We both know where we stand now."
"Indeed." Vegeta threw the fabric on the floor and walked out.
3:15 p.m. – "This Will Pass"
Vegeta entered the sitting room as if the fight had never happened, and he didn't have a scratch on him. He knew Danae had sent Nappa to check on them earlier and would probably tell her later about the outcome.
"You look far too calm," she said, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "What did you do to Raditz?"
He coughed and wiped his eyes. "How was lunch, mother? I may have soup while you're having tea. I need something to rid me of this cold. I've had it forever."
"I'm worried about you, darling. You already spent a week in hospital from running yourself ragged. You must rest. You must. Others can take your place as needed for two weeks to handle negotiations between the governors and the political parties. You can afford to keep a lower profile to boost your image. You won't look like you're being heavy-handed with everyone. That's good."
"I know, and I only have myself to blame for my physical condition. My other concern is gathering more data about the range of the Tuffles' spying and disinformation campaign. We must settle that as well. I will…I will… speak with…"
Vegeta touched his head and leaned on the wall.
"Son?"
"It's okay. I'm just a bit dizzy. I'll be fine."
"Turles!"
A tall, long-haired teenager wearing ripped jeans and a food-stained T-shirt ran in. "Aunt Danae? What's wrong?"
"Get my son to his room. He's unwell."
"Yes, ma'am."
Vegeta wagged his finger. "Boy, if you touch me, you will eat tofu burgers in my home for rest of your life. I know you're allergic to soybeans. Wait - did you just eat at a revolting fast-food restaurant? For god's sake, why aren't you dressed appropriately? You have an allowance to take care of that."
"Stop this right now! That does it for me. Be silent and do as I said earlier, son." As concerned as Danae was, Vegeta's wisecracks were hilarious. He would be fine, she thought.
"Mother, I just need to steady myself." He shook his head to clear his vision. "This will pass."
"Let's go," Turles said. "Give me the honor of helping you, cousin. Please. Maybe you should see a doctor."
"No doctors! I have had enough of them. I'm overly tired, like the queen says. You can follow me to my room to lessen her concern – and don't look so damned happy about it. We are not at my crowning."
Turles laughed. "Wow, man! What are you like when you have the flu?"
Secretly, Vegeta wasn't opposed to having the kid there. It stopped him from finding another drink.
