This chapter is brought to you by Dying Grin, T. Alana M. and Daughter of Vegeta
...
Bulma gasped, taking her gaze off of Trunks, and turned towards her husband. "What do you mean Bra was supposed to be here?!"
Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Exactly what it means. She was supposed to be here, with you," Vegeta sneered, pointing towards his son. "Where is she?"
Trunks, woken by his mother's yelling, snorted back in reply.
Bulma's narrowed eyes darted toward her son. "Where is your sister?"
"Bra came in here, and wouldn't leave me alone. She had the nerve to ask me, her brother, if I wanted to play dress-up and attend her stupid tea party!" Trunks scoffed. "So, I just gave her the money I had on me and told her to scram."
"Are you kidding me, Trunks?!" Bulma screeched. "With after what happened to both of you? She could be attacked!"
Vegeta gritted his teeth in anger, clenching his fists as he prepared himself to pound the boy through the bed and down the next six floors.
"Vegeta," Bulma's voice rang out warningly, causing the Prince to stop his advance on his son.
"She'll be back soon," Trunks muttered. "It doesn't really matter."
"Oh, yes," Vegeta grated out, "and once she's back we can have a civilized chat over tea and laugh about how ridiculous the idea of anyone attacking us is."
Trunks sat up and glared at his father, about to retort, before Bulma pushed him back into the bed.
"Enough you two!" she huffed. "You," Bulma pointed to Trunks, "need to rest. And you," she pointed to Vegeta, "need to come with me, now." Bulma walked over to Vegeta and grabbed his arm, pulling him out of Trunks' infirmary room and into the hallway.
"What are we going to do?" Bulma whispered questioningly and searched Vegeta's eyes for an answer.
He grunted in reply and crossed his arms over his chest.
"You're impossible," Bulma muttered under her breath. "Should we tell the others?"
Vegeta closed his eyes, deep in thought.
If they told the gang, what could they possibly do for them? For his family? Nothing. They could offer them nothing because it was he, Vegeta, who was the protector of their family, and him alone.
"No," Vegeta replied.
"No?" Bulma echoed back, "They could help! They could help find who's behind this and hel-"
"No," Vegeta replied, cutting her off. "I do not need any weaklings' help," he sneered. "I never have."
"Ugh!" Bulma yelled, turning away from her husband. "If you need me, Your Highness, I will be in the lab attempting to figure things out."
With that said, the blue-haired female stormed off, leaving the Prince of all Saiyans alone.
"I will find everything out for myself. I do not require help," he muttered under his breath, before walking down the hallways deep in thought.
...
Trunks was a meanie; he had snapped at her. All she had done was comfort him and offer to play dress-up and have a tea party with him. It had all been a big waste of time!
Well..not a complete waste of time, she thought looking down at her clenched fist and the zeni inside it. Daddy and Mommy always said that she could only have ice cream once a day but Bra felt that today was a special day. Daddy had brought her home early and she hadn't complained; she deserved a reward.
She got the feeling that Daddy didn't want her to leave the house but she had been going to the ice-cream van around the corner for ages, and besides, she was a big girl now.
Bra frowned when she saw the empty space the ice-cream van was usually parked; it seemed that it had already moved onto the next block. Bra frowned, as Daddy and Mommy would notice if she were gone any longer.
With a frustrated sigh she turned around to go home and banged into someones legs. Bra glanced up and smiled, "Sowwy Mister."
Even though Bra couldn't see the man's face because of the shadow cast by the sun behind him she still felt a shiver go down her spine when he looked down at her. A second of silence passed before the man spoke, "Bra Brief."
It was a statement, not a question.
She nodded and moved to step to the side, but he blocked her. "Your Mommy was worried out of her mind so she sent me to pick you up," said the man; he seemed relieved.
Her brain screamed danger but she couldn't be rude to the man. What if he was actually friends with Mommy and Daddy?
The man kneeled down until they were the same height and pulled a wrapped ice-cream from his pocket, he grinned, "I hear you love ice-cream."
Bra's hand darted out and secured the treat, her fingers fumbled trying to take off the wrapping. With a chuckle, the man helped her pull the wrapping off and stood back to his full height. He smiled down at her. "Ready to go home?"
She nodded and smiled, the man smiled back but it didn't seem to reach his eyes and he signalled someone and Bra turned to see a van with tinted windows drive up.
The man opened the doors to the van and motioned that she should get inside. Bra glanced into the darkness and took a hesitant step back. "Maybe I'll walk home, instead," she muttered.
The man's voice was hard as steel as he put his hand on her shoulder. "No, you won't."
Bra turned and followed her father's advice on kidnapping - she kicked him in the crotch. The man hit the ground, rolling around in agony.
Bra began to run but another muscular man jumped from the van with a roar and grabbed her by her hair. She screamed in terror as he threw her into the back of the van.
The man on the ground rose unsteadily to his feet and slapped her as she tried desperately to leave the van. "You bitch, you kicked me in the crotch!"
He jumped into the van and closed the doors behind him, plunging the van into darkness. Bra heard the van start up, then begin to move. Tears flowed down her face from the pain but not out of fear. All she had to do was raise her ki and Daddy would come.
Daddy would come and save her.
"I'm going out!" Bulma snapped, pulling on her coat.
"Where?" Vegeta demanded. He stomped after her. "Whoever did this is still out there."
"It's sweet of you to worry, honey, but don't. I just need to clear my head. I won't be gone long," she assured him. "Are you sure Trunks is alright?"
"The boy will be fine. He went back to sleep. But you won't be if the party who could hurt my son and sabotage your machine decides to go after you."
The scientist perked up. "Did you just compliment my Gravity Room?"
"Dammit, woman!" he roared. "That's not the point!"
"The point is that we both want to find out who hurt Trunks and wanted to hurt Bra! Maybe you can think straight with our son's unconscious body in the next room, but I need fresh air to analyze this!" Bulma's eyes softened, and she laid a hand on her husband's cheek. "I'll be fine, Vegeta. I'm a big girl."
He looked at her for a long moment. "Fine," he said gruffly, pulling away from her. "But if you're not back in two hours, I will find you and drag you back to Capsule Corporation, regardless of your activities."
"But I could be at a meeting or something," Bulma protested. "Or, you know, in the bathroom."
"I don't care," he said flatly, walking away.
"I love you too!" She yelled after his retreating back.
His only answer was a grunt. She grinned and walked out the door.
…
A cold blast of air struck her face, and her smile disappeared with the breeze.
She shivered and wrapped her coat tighter around her frame, but the iciness in her heart had nothing to do with the weather.
Tears pricked her eyes as she thought about her son's prone form. She knew that Trunks was a teenager now; almost as old as she was when she started her search for the Dragon Balls, and far more powerful than she would ever be. But he was still her baby, dammit. How dare anyone hurt her precious baby!
And to think that the attack had been meant for both her children! Little Bra, with her innocent blue eyes and sweet face; who would ever want to hurt her?
She felt the first tears slide down her cheek, and she wiped them away furiously.
Focus, girl, she scolded herself. Now is not the time for crying. Now is the time for thinking.
Back to the main question; who would want to harm, even kill, her children? Trunks and Bra didn't have any enemies beyond petty schoolyard fights.
Herself and Vegeta, on the other hand…
She stopped walking at the epiphany. Suddenly, she couldn't get enough air into her lungs; it felt like she had been sucker punched in the gut.
Her enemies...and Vegeta's…
The Red Ribbon Army, sending row after row of armored tanks after her.
The handsome green Zarbon, mutating into a monster as he struck her future husband.
She continued hyperventilating as the images filled her mind.
Blood and scratches, all over Vegeta's armor when he stomped off the space pod. Blood that wasn't his own.
Frieza and his father, Cold, coming to Earth- -
The androids killing everyone- -
Cell- -
Majin Buu- -
"Miss?" Someone was shaking her. "Miss, are you alright?"
She snapped out of her thoughts. "I'm fine," she answered automatically, brushing his hands off her.
The man's face swam into vision. Mid-twenties, dyed red hair, clothes that looked expensive, but weren't. Not bad-looking. He seemed oddly familiar, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
"Are you sure?" he asked, hands dropping back to his sides. "You looked like you were having a panic attack." Accented voice, but fluent enough in Japanese.
Bulma forced a smile onto her face. "I'm fine, really. I was just thinking."
"Seemed like some pretty serious thinking," he offered.
She smiled, nodded, and waited for him to go away.
He didn't.
"Was there something you wanted?" she asked, her voice sharper than necessary.
He fidgeted. "I do know a good coffee shop, and I was wondering- -"
"I'm married," she said immediately. "And even if I wasn't, I'm afraid I'm too old for you." It was a blow to her ego to admit that, but she was in no mood for flirtatious young men at the moment. Normally, she would have entertained him a bit, to make her husband jealous if nothing else, but she had bigger things to worry about now.
He laughed. "I'm not coming on to you, ma'am. You just look like you could use a hot chocolate."
She frowned, and noticed how dry her mouth was. A hot chocolate did sound good, and maybe she would be able to think clearer without a freezing brain. "I suppose a warm drink would be welcome," she mused.
He grinned and started walking. "Lovely. It's just around the corner."
As she followed the man, she lapsed back into her thoughts. Vegeta's enemies were the most likely to be vicious; but the rest of the universe thought that he'd died on Namek. True, Tarble had managed to find him, but she had full confidence that the younger Saiyan wouldn't tell anyone about his brother's survival, let alone his whereabouts. There were others who could have tracked Vegeta, but that was...unlikely, at best.
She knew that he had killed anyone who was likely to search for him in vengeance.
He thought that she didn't know what he did when he went off to space for 'training', but she always kept trackers and cameras inside the space pods. She didn't condone his actions, but she knew that he was just doing it to keep their family safe. That was why she loved him. So she was okay with it. Wasn't she?
He's killing people. But he's killing bad people, so that's fine. I'm no angel myself.
A small, traitorous voice in her head whispered, But what if he starts killing good people, too? Like he used to do, not so long ago.
...What if I push him too far one day, and he kills me or the kids?
A scowl creased her brow, and she pushed the unnerving thoughts away. She trusted Vegeta. He would never do anything to hurt her, or their children.
She trusted him.
The man led her around the bend, and she followed robotically, her thoughts whirling.
Alright, so Vegeta's enemies were out. That left hers, then.
But she didn't have any enemies. Criminal organizations such as the Red Ribbon Army chose to go after Goku and the other warriors, not her. The only enemies she had were rival companies- -
She stopped suddenly.
The man looked at her. For the first time, she noticed how stiff his smile was. "Is there a problem, ma'am?"
She backed away. "I knew I recognized you. You're Anton Mercer; junior in the medical department of the- -"
"- -of that company you refused to cooperate with, yes," he finished, grabbing her arm.
"Now come with me, ma'am and no one else needs to get hurt." He leaned in close. His handsome face suddenly wasn't so handsome anymore, marred with a twisted grin.
She stomped on his foot with her stiletto and ran. He cursed, and she heard his footsteps thundering behind her. She pumped her legs as fast as she could, but he was gaining, fast.
She wouldn't make it.
No. She had to make it. This can't be happening. She had to get home, she had to warn Vegeta and the kids.
She barreled into a heavyset bodybuilder in front of her. He caught her reflexively. Anton stopped behind them.
"Please," she gasped, fisting bodybuilder's shirt in her hands. "That man is after me- -he wants to kill me and my family. Please help me."
"Gladly," he replied, and his arms around her became a vice-like and restraining.
"What are you doing?" Bulma screeched, struggling as he picked her up like a rag doll.
"This the one, Mercer?" the bodybuilder - hired muscle, they're working together, so obvious in hindsight - asked, subduing her movements with ease.
"She is the one," Anton confirmed.
"No!" She screamed, fighting in earnest. The hired muscle didn't bat an eyelash, bringing her to a nondescript black van across the street that she hadn't noticed.
Stupid! An RV with tinted windows; that's the status quo of kidnappings! Why didn't I see it? Stupid, stupid, stupid! Argh!
She was thrown unceremoniously into the back of the vehicle, her phone snatched out of her pocket. Anton stalked closer to her, pulling out a filthy handkerchief. A sharp scent, like disinfectant, wafted from the dirty cloth. Chloroform.
"You can't do this! You won't get away with this!"
He clamped the handkerchief over her mouth roughly, and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Pardon me for saying so, ma'am, but we already have."
Vegeta, help me, she thought hopelessly.
Then the chemicals took effect, and everything went black.
...
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