Hello, a few things to address!

I want to thank a Guest user for helpfully pointing out that I didn't have character tags! Because I didn't know that - I thought I had those selected, so I will definitely be fixing that.

That are now Polyvore sets under the fic-tag over on Tumblr for the characters in this fic

Also, this fic will have "side chapters" that are either not fitted for the rating of this fic, but also for some background info. They won't be necessary to the main plotline, but they will exist. One is going up when this chapter is posted that is about Goku and Junior's fight! I decided to exclude this scene due to its graphic nature, and there will be more like this in the future. I'd like to keep this fic rated T, so it's separate. I will also have TWs on those for those of you who may feel uncomfortable about particular aspects of a story, so that way everyone can safely enjoy! Thank-you for your patience, and these will be posted on my Tumblr and tagged.

And finally, two endorsements. Blackshucksighted is a wonderful person who is also writing a chiccolo story that is beautiful! If any of you read the smut for this that was written by them, and they have a Bodyguard AU going on right now on FF under RiddletheSphinx called "Where I Belong". Links don't work very well, but it is the first story in favorites on my page. Their blog is beautiful as well and they are partaking in Chiccolo hell right now.

Then, over on Tumblr, sunsinourhands is writing a fic in IDAFT's universe with her wonderful OCs! Choi, who is a bait dog for Freeza, Morgan, Ceredwen, and Aradia are witches that work underneath Baba Yaga and help save Choi, and finally Inca, a Warrior Namekian raised Dragon Clan who has not appeared in-fic yet but I am super excited to see!

Check out these beautiful fics if you love Chiccolo/this story. It's lots of fun hearing from people and interacting with the fandom on Tumblr, so don't be afraid to stop by and chat! And seriously thank you for all the support and fun that has come from this, it has been amazing.

Chapter

"Bloody Mouth"

Chi Chi sat in front of her computer, eyes desperately roaming over the video in front of her. She was terrified, and she could feel her shoulders shaking. The man in the video—it was so obviously her neighbor, yet she couldn't quite connect the two images.

Ma Junior stood covered in her husband's blood smiling and grinning like a maniac.

This was supposed to be the surly man who babysat her kid, threatened bullies, and sparred with her?

Oh God—their sparring! Chi Chi had goaded him into using his full force, to take her seriously. She was no lightweight, but if he'd swung at her with any ounce of feeling behind it—

She'd be splattered worse than Goku was at the end of their fight. It was a miracle that her husband had defeated Ma Junior. His eyes were puffy and half-lidded by the time the referee was able to get through the carnage and hold him a loft. Junior lay to the side, body twisted up, unable to move from his wounds.

She wanted to throw up.

Her son had seen this—seen every bit of this. Of course he'd been scared. When Junior had offered to drive them home, Gohan had gone into hysterics, and she'd been forced to call a cab. The mere thought of being in Junior's presence had upset Gohan so thoroughly that he'd been speechless, almost boneless as he lay in his mother's lap.

Chi Chi bit her lip. Junior's face had been blank as he'd muttered something akin to a good-bye. He'd left quickly, and Chi Chi hadn't stopped him. Now that she'd seen the video for herself… she sympathized with Gohan even more thoroughly.

She felt as if she'd been lied to—but she hadn't! She just wasn't told the truth, and she didn't know which was worse. Junior had said nothing of his past, nothing to indicate that he'd ever fought Goku. She pressed two fingers to her temple.

Sure, he'd said that he'd met Goku—but hell, his father was the Demon King! The assumption from there was just that Junior ran in the same circle. How wrong she'd been… And Junior… He was just like his father!

Fury rose in her, and she slammed a fist against the table.

This was betrayal! She'd just given the freak a key into her place! She'd had him on top of her, with every single scenario set up to where he could have seriously injured her. The man had had her son, for fuck's sake, in his lap. The man who had wrapped her husband's tail around him as a sign of victory…

Chi Chi felt a desperate need overtake her to fight, and the stress that she'd gotten out earlier seemed to return tenfold. If not for the sleeping Gohan in the next room, she would have screamed and thrown things. But she couldn't—he might hear her, and he was already upset enough.

The room was filled with smoke, but for once the acrid tang was doing nothing to relieve the stress that was coursing through him. His face was angled up towards the ceiling, pretending not to notice Xuanzang staring at him—like a constant reminder of his fuck ups. A pervasive voice that whispered each of his sins in tantalizing detail.

It had never been in the plans for Gohan to recognize him.

Well, it had never been in the plans to actually befriend anyone.

Junior had moved into his cousin's shop, attempting to get away from everything that his life had become. He'd needed to get away from the Namekian colony, where every one of his relative was constantly stopping by, staring at him, making sure that he wasn't doing anything wrong. He'd gone there in the hopes to be far away from his father's over-bearing presence, and had instead traded it in for something different.

Dende's shop had been a brief respite, sure, and Junior had been lulled into a false sense of security through the Sons. And wasn't that just stupid? He knew better—knew that there was never going to be any peace in his life; Junior also knew that he didn't deserve any.

You're a monster!

Junior bit the tip of his cigarette, and lowered his gaze to the vanity's mirror. All his life he'd been told how ugly Nameks were, and how you couldn't tell them apart. He attributed that to human stupidity, because any fool could see the difference. Until it came to him and his father—now they were certainly alike.

Junior wasn't as tall; he wasn't as big. His nose sloped at a slightly different angle, but that was mostly from where he and his father had both been in so many fights, that there was no telling what the original shape was. Their ears had the same exact point, though, their mouths set in the same grim line.

And the same shitty mistakes—the same monstrous past that swept through their lineage.

And the same damned name that even now Junior couldn't apply to himself, because that would truly mean defeat. But then—wasn't he a Piccolo?

A monster, just like the kid had said. Demon-spawn that ripped off people's noses, tails, and sawed faces in half. That had all been for entertainment as well—that didn't even touch the fervor of his youth in which he'd explicitly gone out of his way to achieve new heights of maliciousness, all to earn the favor of his father.

Black eyes stared back at him.

He certainly was Piccolo.

Chi Chi saw Gohan to the door, her fingers nervously fluttering over his shoulders as he made his way to the bus stop. He refused to talk to her about what he'd seen—and she didn't bother to tell him that she'd watched it herself. She watched his slow trek out to the bus, one little foot lifting up to the steps.

His head turned, just a fraction, to look at Porunga's Post, before he turned, jaw set, and left.

She returned to her job, then, stomach a knotted mess. Bulma kept trying to make light-hearted jokes, but Chi Chi couldn't bring herself to appreciate it. She was doubly concerned by the fact that Bulma—this woman, actively supported Junior and Goku's activities. Her obsession with the two fighters was something that she practically blasted to the world.

Chi Chi remained busy until it was time to Gohan to come home from school. She came to the window, and saw several kids crowded around Gohan. They hovered for a moment, and Chi Chi prepared to go outside, before they took their leave.

Gohan shuffled slowly back towards the restaurant, pausing to look at where a sleek red car was now missing.

The weekend came, and Chi Chi was grateful for it. Junior remained absent from their lives, even his car was gone the entire time. She decided not to question it, though every once in a while, she would open her message app to perhaps text him. To demand why he hadn't told her who he was. Or why he hadn't come back on hands and knees, begging for her and Gohan's forgiveness.

She decided against it, however, instead attempting to divert her attentions to bringing Gohan back into a peaceful state of mind. His mood had been in a consistent, downwards plummet. Movie night had come and went with Gohan staring miserably at the screen, obviously paying it no mind as he snuggled desperately into Chi Chi's warmth.

She'd cradled him, pressing soft kisses along his hair line.

"Mommy…" Gohan's voice broke. She tilted, chin against him.

"Yes, baby?"

"Dad's tail—," his voice was still a quavering mess.

"I know, baby…" Chi Chi tightened her grip on him. "I'm so sorry you had to see that…"

Gohan hiccupped. "That wasn't—that didn't—it didn't seem like dad or Mr. Junior…" he trailed off. "Mr. Junior is so nice I don't understand…"

Chi Chi bit her lip. "Sometimes… people change." She stared at the floor, hoping she sounded confident. "But if Mr. Junior makes you uncomfortable, then you don't have to see him ever again."

Gohan sniffled. "I do want to see him though…"

And Chi Chi didn't have anything to say to that.

Junior stared dismally at the wall. Running the flower shop without Gohan was an absolute drag, and everything about it was a bit painful. Luckily, he'd relocated Xuanzang to his room, and that made it just the slightest bit tolerable; those eyes couldn't stare at him while he was working now.

He glanced up at the bell ringing, rude retort already on his tongue, when he froze.

A lizard stepped in—the bright, wrinkly pink skin caught Junior's attention, and he scowled at the figure. Freeza. His father had made bets with the thing in the past, so he'd seen the creep around. Though—he had no idea as to why the hell Freeza was here now.

Junior glared. "Can I help you?" he grunted. He was mindful of his tone, however, knowing damn good and well what Freeza could do. As much as he hated this flower shop, he couldn't have Porunga's desecrated because of his smart mouth. Dende definitely wouldn't take it very well.

Freeza was smiling, and Junior felt the sincerest form of distaste. Behind the alien, he could see a long tail snaking, with what looked like a young Saiyan trailing behind him. When Junior's eyes made contact with the Saiyan, the girl made a sharp ducking noise as her tail wrapped tighter against his waist.

Junior narrowed his eyes. Goku's tail had never done that—but Vegeta's did.

"Why, hello, Piccolo!" Freeza's voice had a lilting quality to it, adding extra syllables as he drawled everything out. Disgust rippled down Junior's spine, and he shifted his hulking form. In instances like this, his brute size offered him nothing.

"Junior," he grunted in response, watching as Freeza's eyes narrowed.

"No, no. That's such a droll name! Not fitting of someone with as much… caliber as you." Freeza was grinning now, pearly white teeth showing behind black lipstick. Junior stiffened, and he watched the Saiyan girl shift her feet, eyebrows scrunching up in fear as Freeza's slow moving tail swept close to her.

"Fine," Junior grunted, "call me whatever you want." His teeth were gritted together, sharp fangs pressing against his teeth. Freeza wasn't someone he expected to be here, nor was it someone he wanted to deal with. The strange creature's appearance had him worried.

"Of course, Piccolo! Now—well, pardon me! I've never visited you, have I? and to think of my closeness with your father." Freeza's stupid ohoho laugh rang out, his hand perched close to his mouth as he did so. "We really should meet more." The gaze slid lower, lips pursing. "You are a divine specimen."

Junior wanted to vomit.

"I collect things like you, didn't you know?"

"My father mentioned it."

"Yes—well," Freeza smirked. "Funny that—it is your father that brings me here today. You see, my dear, he came and visited me not so long ago! Now, can you imagine this? He shows up at my favorite lounge, demanding to see me about a bet!"

Junior's mind dropped into a strange amount of fuzzy static.

"Oh, the dear was ranting! Raving! Practically mad! I'd heard his health was slipping but, my, oh my I was not expecting that!" Freeza laughed, again, tail swinging with a solid thump against the Saiyan's girl's calf. She tottered, wincing as the pain. "He did offer me one interesting thing, though! A bet!"

Freeza clapped and giggled, lids dropping halfway as he inclined his head towards Junior. The Namekian watched him carefully, attempting to hide every bit of unease he felt.

"A bet about his darling son! Told me all about his pride and joy—just a wee boy, you know? Barely out of high school, rejecting Namekian standards. And then, can you believe this? he bet that you would fight Son Goku—and win!"

Junior's jaw slackened, just a bit, despite his attempts otherwise. What was static was now a raging tempest, allowing no one thought to come through.

"I tried to explain to him," Freeza was still talking, tail tip twitching against the Saiyan, "that his son was now grown! Out of the house! That the fight had already finished but—now, here's the touching part. He told me all about his son. How wonderful he was, and how he was just his pride and joy. Even thumped his chest, like a man." Freeza's lips curled up, rather sadistic. "So I of course obliged him. Who could turn down a sick man?"

Junior snarled, trying to reign back in his anger. "He's senile," he snapped, "doesn't know what he's talking about. I'm not fighting Son Goku."

Freeza pouted, but didn't look surprised. "Yes, yes, I thought you'd say as such. But, if that's the case, then I have to go off of the previous match, and well," the lizard's mouth stretched wide, voice dropping to a purr, "if I'm recalling correctly you lost that match quite miserably."

Junior drew back sharply, nostrils flaring. "Still, whatever the old man bet you, you can go ahead and claim. I'm not fighting Son again."

A giggle—and gods did Junior want to murder him. "Yes, well, there's another interesting thing! Your father, in a startling show of paternal pride, bet his own life!"

Junior froze.

Freeza was grinning now. "Ah, I thought you'd find that bit interesting! Told me he believed in you so much, that if you lost, he might as well die! Goodness, me, these drugs must be addling his brains! Or… perhaps it's that slow, impending death that's like acid on his grey matter."

Junior sucked in a deep breath, and lurched forward, just as the Saiyan girl appeared in front of Freeza. Her timid gaze had dropped, now fiery as her fists rose into their customary place. The tail remained tucked, but Junior could see the frazzled hair intermingled with the scarred tissue. He stuttered to a halt, watching the girl carefully as Freeza let loose another of his stupid laughs.

The lizard crossed his legs, spreading his arms wide as he regarded Junior. He could barely see Freeza beyond the Saiyan's girth and height. The cocky little shit immediately began to gloat, but Junior could feel fire in his veins.

"Easy there—or Ugri will have to fight you. While I imagine that you'd put up a wonderful enough fight, why trash this beautiful flower shop? From what I researched, this isn't exactly yours for the ruining."

Junior wanted to smash his face in, and he could feel his chest heaving with the exertion of standing still. His legs were already flexed, staring Ugri down. Her braided black hair swung down by her spine as she pivoted, preparing for any movement on his part.

"Now—I must know. Are you still willing to deny this opportunity?"

When Chi Chi awoke, it was to a hand clamped firmly around her mouth as someone shook her. Her muffled scream was shortly followed by a quick bite, and she felt some undefinable liquid rush into her mouth. Panicking more, she released the hand, and instead swung her legs out, kicking sharply at something that made a noise of pain.

Her assailant stumbled backwards, but she could just barely see a large figure in the darkness. Chi Chi shot up from the bed, grabbing the gun she kept on her bedside table. Cool metal hit her palm as she cocked the gun, leveling at the intruder.

"Did you just grab a fucking gun?!" a voice hissed at her, and she furrowed her brow. The gun slid to the side, just a bit, as she stared at the huge person.

"Wait… Junior?!" she shouted, just to be shushed. Chi Chi made a sharp noise, and shifted, turning on the lamp that sat on her end table. It was indeed Junior, standing there with his hands up as he waved them at her.

"Don't fucking shush me after breaking into my house and—," she paused, noticing that one of his hands was coated in purple, dripping onto her carpet. Chi Chi felt her knees quake, as she glanced upwards, catching sight of herself in a mirror.

Her face was dyed a vivid purple, and she felt bile rise in her throat immediately. Gagging, she stumbled to the trashcan, heaving as she tried desperately to wipe some of it off. Behind her, she heard Junior leaving the room, but the moment she tried to curse at him to stay, more vomit piled up, and she was forced to stay there on her knees.

Fear coursed through her, as she realized the situation. Here she was, coated in Ma Junior's blood—after he'd snuck into her room in the middle of the night and could have done anything to her.

Chi Chi started shaking once more, fingers locked tight on the trashcan.

She was strong—hell, strong was an understatement with her training. But Ma Junior; he was on a whole different playing field. His size, strength, and history were enough to make Chi Chi regret ever having come in contact with the Namekian. If it were to truly come down to it, Chi Chi wasn't so certain that she'd win.

Footsteps sounded behind her, and she schooled herself back into an angry state. She couldn't let him know she was afraid. Her back straightened, as she pressed her mouth into a thin line, and prepared to lay into him.

Junior knelt beside her, and stuffed a glass of water and a wet, warm rag into her face.

Chi Chi blinked, rocking back just a bit, as she took in his crouched form, averted gaze, and slightly flushed face. Slowly, she lifted her hands, grasping the cup that he offered, and took the rag that he held.

"I… you have blood," he motioned warily at her face, but still didn't look at her. "And I'm sure that it tastes gross." His gaze flitted very obviously to the trashcan. Chi Chi slowly took a sip of the water, before running the warm rag across her face. It felt good, pressing it to the skin. She could see purple grime already covering it.

"Do you want to tell me why the fuck you snuck into my room?" Chi Chi finally demanded, still sipping greedily at the water. She could feel the acidic burn being washed form her throat. Her eyes narrowed dangerously over the cup as she glared at her neighbor.

He shifted uncomfortably, and pointed towards the bedroom door.

"I used my key—I didn't want to wake Gohan…" he trailed off, large shoulders heaving as his antennae twitched. "I just had a visitor at my house." Here his voice dropped into a growl, and his claws scratched at her carpet. "Freeza."

She said nothing, only lowering the cup so she could press her lips into a thin, disapproving line.

"And?"

"And apparently my father bet him that I would fight Son Goku."

Chi Chi's heart clamped, and she pressed a hand to her stomach. Her eyes were wide as she regarded Junior. "You can't be serious?" she gasped, fire roaring in her belly again. Chi Chi had half a mind to punch her neighbor!

Junior grimaced. "If I don't… he's threatened to kill my father."

"Then let him die," Chi Chi snapped, voice blunt as she regarded him. His face spasmed, and Chi Chi knew that it had been an incredibly selfish thing of her to say. But she didn't care. "You keep talking about how it'll be better if he dies—and he's sick anyways."

"The thought crossed my mind," Junior muttered, but his face didn't reflect the harsh words. He suddenly appeared older, face dragging downwards as he glared at nothing in particular. "I wanted to. I can't—something won't let me," he snapped, and heaved his shoulders in an angry fashion.

Chi Chi bit her lip.

"What would—what about what Gohan would think of you?" Chi Chi attempted, sounding almost desperate. Junior gave her a sardonic laugh that sent chills rushing down her spine.

"I'm sure it'll be exactly how he thinks of me now. And how you view me, for that matter." Junior stood, then, and turned his back to her. "I just wanted to warn you. Not that you seem to pay that much attention to your husband as it is—considering you didn't know about our fight." The look he gave her over his shoulder was scalding, and Chi Chi visibly flinched away from him.

Chi Chi bit her lip as he headed towards the door. "Gohan misses you," she blurted out, and Junior paused.

"I miss him, too."

Chapter

"Merchandise"

Chi Chi was doing prep before the restaurant opened, when Bulma erupted into the kitchen, phone clasped tightly in her hand. She was breathing a little erratically, her short blue hair sticking out in messy cowlicks. Her make-up was non-existent as she grabbed at Chi Chi's shoulders.

"I need you to come with me!"

Chi Chi blinked, staring wide-eyed at her friend. Blue, steely eyes matched her gaze, and Chi Chi attempted to calm her down.

"Okay—pause. What is happening?"

"Look—Vegeta went missing! Sure, sometimes he leaves," Bulma pursed her lips, and angrily crossed her arms, "but he's always back within a day!"

Chi Chi furrowed her brow. "Bulma… maybe he just went elsewhere?"

"No!" Bulma snapped, and Chi Chi leaned back slightly. "He's involved with that creep Freeza! If he's not at my house, then he's not safe, and that stupid idiot knows it!" Her cheeks were a flaming red as she worked herself into an angrier state, and Chi Chi gave her a helpless look. Apparently Bulma was very expressive without foundation to cover it.

"So what do you need me for?" Chi Chi asked.

"Because—I planted a tracking device in his tail one night, and—,"

Chi Chi held up her hands. "Excuse me? Don't gloss over that!"

"Look, it's not important. I do it to all of my friends—,"

"Is there a device on me?!" Chi Chi nervously ran a hand through her hair, and Bulma gave an impatient scoff. The heiress crossed her arms and propped a hip out.

"You're not going to find it. Look, you're focusing on the entirely wrong things! I checked Vegeta's location, and he's totally at some weird sketchy warehouse. I would take my bodyguards, but when I sent them to scope out the place, they were discovered! They looked way too obvious. So—you're super strong and completely inconspicuous, so I figured I'd take you!"

Chi Chi stared, dumbfounded.

"I can't! I have to be here for Gohan!"

"We'll be back before he even gets off the bus!" Bulma argued.

Chi Chi huffed. "Isn't this going to be at night?"

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Please. Nobody actually does sketchy activities at night—this isn't some melodrama. C'mon, please?"

Chi Chi huffed. "No. No way in hell am I attending some random ass event where that freak Freeza is apparently keeping your possible murderous roommate. No. Way."

Chi Chi stood angrily in line, Bulma positioned in front of her. The heiress had demanded Chi Chi to put on something 'less mom'—which really was quite rude in Chi Chi's opinions, since everything she owned apparently fit that category. Bulma had finally sighed and allowed Chi Chi to wear the one black dress she owned, while Bulma herself dug a spare outfit from the back of her car, which consisted of a leather skirt and red corset.

Chi Chi didn't understand her friend.

"We can't stick out," Bulma had chided Chi Chi as they driven all the way out to the middle of nowhere. There were plenty of people around that set Chi Chi on edge, her muscles tense beneath the fabric of her dress as they lined up at the entrance. A large Saiyan was set up at the front door, taking money from people as they entered the disgusting building.

The wind blew, and trash whipped up, wrappers scraping Chi Chi's shins as she stuck closely to Bulma. The heiress seemed perfectly at peace, surveying the people around her. She was obviously looking for Vegeta, clicking her heels against the asphalt.

The line slowly churned forward, until the girls were at the front of the line. Bulma handed the large Saiyan a wad of money, offering him a wink as she entered the warehouse. Once inside, though, Bulma was all business again, dragging Chi Chi forward, furiously sweeping her gaze from left to right.

"You know; I've grown fond of that tiny little shit. I'll murder him and Freeza if anything's happened to him." Bulma was grumbling under her breath, as Chi Chi took in their surroundings. It was a large warehouse, the floor nothing but dirt that had been trodden down into compact flooring. The dingy tin walls rose high, with flickering bulbs dangling from a sloping ceiling. There were a few booths set up, where strange aliens were set up behind them, offering snacks that Chi Chi had never seen before, and what looked like merchandise of some of the fighters. She recognized none of them, and couldn't even place the species of most the creatures in the room.

An announcer's voice rang out as Bulma dragged them closer to an arena set up in the middle of the floor. The arena was elevated, with questionable stains covering every inch of the mat. Bright red rope ran the length of it, with a referee standing in the middle, motioning happily to a sectioned off area where two fighters were heading down the aisles.

Aliens all around them were screaming for the two fighters—one was a Saiyan, and the other was some strange plant creature that Chi Chi couldn't identify. Her nose wrinkled up as the two stepped into the ring. Bulma stood, pouting, beside her, still searching.

Chi Chi tried to ignore the fight, but it really just aggravated her how shoddy both fighters were. The plant thing had no stance whatsoever—possibly due to all of the vines and roots, but Chi Chi accepted no excuses, while the Saiyan already seemed to be lame in one of her legs, causing her to be a bit sluggish with her movements. It was pathetic.

The Saiyan won by a small margin, managing to rip a piece off of the plant. At that time the referee interrupted.

"The first match of the night goes to Freeza!" A purple flag flew into the air, fluttering from the ref's hands as a chorus of noise rose up around Chi Chi and Bulma. She pressed closer to the heiress, who booed quite loudly. A few creatures around them began shooting them heated glances, and Chi Chi shook Bulma.

"Next up—Prince Vegeta!" The referee swung an arm out to the aisle, where a familiar shock of black hair became visible. Bulma lurched forward, but Chi Chi held in her place, watching Vegeta's stocky steps. His face was set into an irritated scowl as he approached the ring, slipping underneath the ropes to take his place.

"And then—we have Limax!" At the referee's announcement, a Namekian roughly half the size of Junior came out. His face was uglier than Junior's, marred by what looked like constant battle. The green skin seemed to have yellowed, as did the pink patches that covered his arms. Limax pushed himself up onto the arena, wearing a strange tunic and baggy pants that were ill-fitted to his bulky form.

A bell rang, and Chi Chi focused on Vegeta. She'd never seen the man fight before, but it was obvious that he went all out. His tail remained tightly latched around his waist as he traded blows with the Namekian, the two bobbing and weaving around the arena. Vegeta's fighting style was vicious—there was no reserve in each hit, whereas Limax was landing much lighter attacks, fists bumping ever so softly against Vegeta.

It was obvious that it was beginning to wear on the Saiyan, however, as he finally stumbled from a heavy-knuckled blow that Limax delivered. Vegeta stumbled, tripping to his knees as he attempted to right himself. His face seemed withdrawn as he sat there.

"VEGETA!" Chi Chi was shocked as Bulma's voice screeched right next to her ear. She didn't even have a chance to grab Bulma before the heiress had hoisted herself right up onto the edge of the arena, pointing angrily at him. "I swear if you lose I'll never let my mom make you pancakes again!"

Vegeta stared at her, before his face flushed. "What the hell are you—," he was interrupted by Limax's fist slamming against his face. The Saiyan snarled, cracking his jaw as he glared up at the stony-faced Namekian.

"Get up, Vegeta! Kick his ass!" Bulma was garnering attention now, and Chi Chi pulled Bulma back, as the woman continued to cheer. Vegeta gave her one last glance, before tightening his hand into a fist. His chest heaved once, twice, and then he was back up, diminutive body slamming into Limax.

He bore down on the Namekian, pounding blow after blow on the green skin. Soon purple splattered across the arena, and Chi Chi ducked her head, glaring angrily down at the floor. Such a bright, vivid color made her want to vomit.

"How can you support him?" Chi Chi demanded of Bulma, staring up at the girl. "Knowing that he does these awful things?"

"Because I know that this isn't how he actually is," the heiress replied, giving Chi Chi a curious look. "The real Vegeta is some doofus that sits on my couch and doesn't think I catch him watching reality TV. This Vegeta is the one that Freeza made."

Then Bulma was facing forward once more, and Chi Chi was left alone with her thoughts.

Vegeta had a towel wrapped around his shoulder, already stained from the blood and sweat coming off of his body. There were no serious injuries, however, so he felt no need to tend his wounds. Scrubbing at his hair, he came into the crowd, tail tip just barely twitching as he pushed is way through.

A few Cooler-supporters gave him rather disgusted looks, which he gladly returned with a snarl of his own. He finally caught sight of a familiar face, Son Chi Chi standing off to the side, looking thoroughly put out. She was in a simple black dress with red Chinese characters sewn onto it that Vegeta couldn't read. He gave her his best glare, which she happily returned.

Chi Chi flicked her bangs out of her face. "Maybe you can get her—she won't listen to me." Vegeta gave her a curious look, before she jabbed her thumb backwards, where he could see Bulma's recognizable backside.

The blue haired woman was currently standing at a booth, tilted forward with both hands on her hips as she shouted, red-faced, up at the alien running it. All sixteen of the alien's tentacles were writhing in distress as it garbled down at her, and Vegeta slowly approached.

"Listen, buddy! You have merchandise of all these useless people—but not of the Prince? That's some bullshit! I just watched him do five matches back to back. Meanwhile, what did you do? Sit here and lactate all over these stupid shirts!"

Vegeta felt something warm blossom in his stomach, and he immediately felt sickened by it. He pressed his mouth into a firm line, and gave Chi Chi a disgusted look over his shoulder. The woman merely shrugged. Bulma hadn't been quiet since she'd gotten here, and she had most certainly watched all of Vegeta's matches.

He came up behind her, and cocked his head back.

"What's wrong, woman? Must you cause a scene everywhere you go?"

Bulma whirled around, blue eyes widening as she looked at him.

"Vegeta!" Bulma rocketed forward, and Vegeta's tail actually unwrapped in shock as her arms were thrown around his neck. His fists rose, ready to attack, but she simply held him there.

His tail bushed out, and his eyes widened comically.

"What the—what the hell are you doing, woman?!" Vegeta demanded, face flushed, though his voice was muffled. Bulma's height combined with her heels had pushed his face into a very soft area that left him reeling with the perfume pooled there.

"Jeez!" Bulma huffed, but didn't release him. "You disappeared from my place and I was worried as hell, you tiny jackass!"

Vegeta sat, dumbfounded. What the hell did it matter to her whether or not he was there? He didn't understand why she sounded so distressed, or why the hell she was attempting to smother him right now.

"Oh, Vegeta," the Saiyan froze in Bulma's grasp as he heard the audience around them fall abruptly silent. He felt the arms around him tighten. "Your tail—it's rather indecent."

Vegeta slowly turned his head, forcing Bulma to release him. His eyes locked onto Freeza, and he very carefully coiled his tail tightly against his stomach once more. He gulped, but kept it quiet as he regarded the tyrannical force in his life.

"I came down," Freeza purred, eyes sliding to Bulma, "because I heard a customer was rather unhappy. And I do try to please." The lizard tilted his head, black lipsticked mouth quirking upwards as he regarded them.

Beside him, Bulma straightened up, tossing her head.

"I was just upset about the lack of Prince merchandise." Bulma replied, propping one hip out as Vegeta remained silent beside her. His shoulders were set with his spine rigid.

"Yes, well. Not many people have wanted to buy for him—what, with the whole Son Goku debacle. The poor monkey had his chance and, oh, slipped on the banana, shall we say?" That disgusting laughter filled the air, Freeza's fingers poised in front of his mouth as he gave Vegeta a rather meaningful look.

His whole body flushed hot.

Bulma, however, seemed undeterred. "Well, I'd say that his fighting skills are still there. Perhaps his manager is just incompetent?"

Vegeta's eyes widened, as Freeza's narrowed.

"I beg pardon?"

Bulma's chin jutted out, but she didn't repeat herself. Instead, she seemed slightly cowed, and only Vegeta was close enough to see the slight quiver that ran along her back. He saw the slight wriggle as she stood there, facing down a tyrant.

"Now, Miss Briefs! I do recall you telling me something about only ever knowing one Saiyan—and wasn't that Son Goku? I do find it odd to see you here with my little pet." Freeza was grinning, but something dangerous lurked in his expression as he regarded them. Behind him, Vegeta felt Chi Chi approach.

"Yes, well…" Bulma stuttered, voice tapering off as she failed to come up with something. Vegeta bit the inside of his cheek, his feet shifting ever so slightly. He immediately cursed himself, however, as Freeza caught the minute movement. He knew better than to do such fidgeting when in front of the lizard.

"Curious, curious. Now, perhaps you really were feeding a Saiyan that day? But, then—," Freeza faked a gasp, mouth forming into a perfectly shaped 'o', "that would mean you had lied to me? But surely business partners wouldn't do such things, Miss Briefs?" He'd slipped into a fake simper, and the crowd around them seemed much more ominous suddenly. "I don't take well to liars."

"Well, I didn't know Vegeta was a Saiyan at the time!" Bulma blurted, before giving a nod, seemingly to herself. Freeza arched one brow.

"You didn't realize that the man with a monkey tail was an alien?"

"I can't memorize every species out there," Bulma retorted.

"And yet you knew about Son Goku's race?"

"Y-yes, well. They say that on TV all the time. I didn't know what their defining characteristics were." Bulma shifted, and he saw Chi Chi press a reassuring hand to her friend's shoulder. Vegeta unlooped the first bit of his tail, twitching the tip against Bulma's exposed thigh.

Freeza narrowed his gaze. "Vegeta, I have trained you better than this. Your displays are disgusting." Freeza's own tail smacked harshly against the floor. "Now, come here."

"Actually," Bulma grabbed Vegeta's arms, her fingers tight against his skin. He could feel her shaking as she held him anchored in place. He didn't know what she was doing, but he gave her his default expression—angry. "If you don't mind, sir, I'd like Vegeta to come back with me."

Freeza tilted his head back, and gave a harsh laugh. "I'm sorry? But I'm not in the habit of sharing my pets."

"He's not a pet," Bulma snapped, cheeks flushing a sharp red color.

Freeza sneered. "Now I see why you were so set on your foundation. What a hideous thing you are, molting colors." Bulma reared back. "And yes, he is. But it is rather cute of you to imagine a monkey having feelings."

Vegeta's muscles flexed at the insult, and behind him he could hear Chi Chi spit out something equally harsh. Bulma made a disgusted noise at the back of her throat, while several in the crowd began murmuring.

"Brother, you are being unfair, don't you think?" a new voice joined the ranks, and Vegeta felt the pit in his stomach sink ever further. Cooler had come beside his brother, long snaking tail trailing behind him.

Freeza turned angrily to his brother, pink face wrinkling up. "How dare you interrupt me!" the lizard's voice had dropped into a hiss. "This is about my toys!"

"You know, father always did say you didn't know how to share," Cooler's white face remained blank as he regarded his little, fuming brother. "A nasty habit, that. Why not let this Brief's girl take him for a bit? Don't you have plenty of things to occupy yourself with?"

"None of which concern you!" Freeza snapped, snarling his teeth.

Vegeta watched Cooler's calm expression, and felt his childhood fears swimming to the surface. He could feel Bulma and Chi Chi beside him, but it brought him minimal comfort as he watched the two brothers face off against one another. Whenever they got into arguments—which was far to frequent—it came to full on feuds between the two houses until Cold finally interrupted.

"I'm merely suggesting you focus on—oh, that silly little bet you have going. You know, you're spreading yourself far too thin, little brother. Between our regular matches, training your Saiyans, and reconnecting with old friends… I'd say you'll slip somewhere."

"What do you know about my bet?" Freeza's breathing was harsh now as his tail slammed against the tile. Vegeta stared knowingly at the chipped concrete, well aware that some bait dog would taste that fury later in the night.

Chi Chi leaned in, pushing just slightly against Vegeta. He swatted angrily at her, but she sneered at him, otherwise ignoring it.

"Oh, everyone knows about you and the Demon King—really, little brother, perhaps you should keep your meetings a bit more secret." Cooler smirked, then, and Freeza flushed, face turning a sickly white color.

He shot an aggravated glance at Vegeta, when Cooler flagged a tail in front of his brother's face.

"But of course, no reason to listen to me. I've only got a plethora of good fighters, while you rely on this tiny little one. Though—is it a height thing? Feel the need to prove you small folk stand a chance?" Cooler chuckled, and Freeza's nostrils flared as his tail swung out, crashing into an alien that stood too close. The creature was immediately floored, face crushing against concrete.

Chi Chi and Bulma made sharp noises of surprise, while Vegeta remained impassive. Freeza's temper tantrums weren't new.

"I'll have you know that I have lots of fighters that could decimate yours!"

"Really, I've never seen them. You just send Vegeta out for consecutive matches," Cooler yawned, "how pitiful of your crew."

Freeza was now a fiery mess as he turned, thunderous, upon Vegeta. "Get out! GET OUT! Go play with your stupid humans!" Then he was facing Cooler again, lips pulled up as he shouted. "I can defeat you with or without Vegeta—and I'll prove it!"

Bulma tugged at him, and Vegeta didn't hesitate to leave. If Freeza found out that Cooler was playing him, then all hell was to break loose. At least if he got out of the alien's immediate line of sight than he could perhaps postpone the inevitable. The trio were soon piled into Bulma's car, with Vegeta pushed unceremoniously into the backseat.

"You're an idiot, you know," Vegeta grumbled, once they were a safe distance from the warehouse. He still felt unsure, as if talking about the scenario would somehow make this untrue. Would rob him of this momentary freedom that didn't involve necessarily 'hiding' in Bulma's place.

Bulma laughed, and threw him a wink over her shoulder. "Maybe—but I couldn't just leave you! Now, Chi Chi, let's—,"

"Oh no," Chi Chi whispered, eyes dropping to the clock, where 5:36 blinked at her in big red numbers. Bulma winced.

"I'll, uh… just get you home right quick. I'm sure the kid's fine! Junior is next door and… oh… yeah…" Bulma trailed off, before slamming her foot into the gas pedal. She barely had time to slow down outside of the restaurant before Chi Chi had jumped out and was running.

Vegeta took that opportunity to clamber over the console into the front seat. Beside him, the heiress gave him a disparaging look.

"What? The front is where I belong," he huffed.

"Oh, Vu-gee-taah," Bulma's sing-songy voice came trailing down the hallway, and he groaned. Whatever the woman wanted, he didn't want to know. He ambled down the hall, upset that his planned night of relaxation after a fight was now demolished. Her voice called out again, and he groaned audibly so she could hear him, locating her voice to the bedroom.

He stood outside the door.

"Woman, I do not wish to see your strange fixation with green men again," he dead-panned through the door.

"Just come in, and stop being a jerk!" Ah, and there was the waspish reply he came to expect from Bulma. Rolling his eyes, he shoved open the door. He paused.

Bulma sat sprawled upon her bed, wearing a large t-shirt with no shorts underneath it. Vegeta made a strangled noise, and dropped his eyes to the carpet.

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"Oh, c'mon, don't be a big baby. Come here!" Bulma patted her bed, and he reluctantly approached, slowly sitting down. He maintained his downward gaze, but he could practically feel the eye roll. "Goodness. I just wanted to show you something!"

"And you couldn't have done that with pants on?!" he demanded, hoping his exasperation was coming through plain and clear. Today had been a stressful day, and he wanted none of the shenanigans that Bulma brought with her.

"Meh, this is comfortable! Anyways—you should be thankful! I came to get you today!" Bulma huffed, and he could see crossed arms out of his peripheral. Vegeta sneered.

"Yes, even though I'm not entirely sure how the hell you knew I'd be there."

"Simple! I used the tracking device I put on you, and—,"

"When the fuck did you do that?!"

"—AND," she continued louder, "I just went to the warehouse." The woman shrugged, and he actually bothered to look up, taking in her smug appearance. "Now, would you look!" Her hands gestured at her shirt, and Vegeta gave it a glance.

He froze.

On the t-shirt was him. It was obviously a picture taken from one of his workouts in the gym area. He had on gloves, his face set in a determined scowl as he held his position. Across the image, in gold letters, was The Prince Vegeta, and he stared blankly at it.

"You like?" Bulma grinned, twisting her body as if to further show off her gear. "I wanted merchandise of you, so I used a photo I took during your training. I thought you were a great fighter." Here, her voice grew soft, and she leaned in, pressing a hand to his shoulder. "And I saw your fight with Goku. It was a close one, but you definitely gave him a run for his money." She was leaning in, and Vegeta felt panic surge through him.

His head was spinning at the proximity.

"And today… I felt you touch me with your tail when I was nervous. It was real sweet of you." Bulma's smile was entirely too much, coupled with her half-lidded eyes. Vegeta quickly jerked to his feet, and turned his back to her in one sharp motion.

He scoffed loudly, facing away so she couldn't see his enflamed expression. "As if it was to comfort you! It was merely a nervous spasm! You humans are idiots!" And then he stormed out of the room, ignoring the 'ugh, you jerk!' behind him.

Once outside, he slammed her door shut, pausing for just a moment to press a hand against his chest.

A night of relaxation, he griped to himself, stomping angrily back to the gym, of fucking course not!