AN: I re-wrote the last part of chapter 31. It will make more sense if you read it before continuing. :)
Something was not right with the Saiyan.
At first, she had nothing but a niggling sense buzzing around in the back corners of her brain telling her that something was somehow…off. How she could know this was baffling because she had no basis to compare his past behaviors with current ones – but all the same, the feeling that something was just… wrong… was there.
The first clue was his insatiable need to have an intrusive level of physical contact. There was almost a three-points-of-contact rule with him; if he didn't have at the ready, at all times, at least three appendages touching… or grabbing, wrapping, groping, fondling, cuddling – or any other number of similar activities - he became anxious. Of course, it was completely one sided. If she were to try to touch him… she had experimented with that only once and was happy to have her fingers intact. The whole ordeal should have been intolerable but for two things: her intuition told her that disallowing his tangible neediness was somehow dangerous – that the Saiyan required constant contact for reasons that stemmed from whatever the hell was making him…wrong. The second reason she found his clinginess bearable was that it made her feel secure. Not in a creepy kind of way – more of an accepting a different culture kind of way: different… but not so strange she couldn't adapt. In all, despite the very touchy-feely alien constantly underfoot, she was oddly ok with it.
Something else she knew wasn't right was his drastic drop in appetite. After confirming the contents of her capsules were in place, she was relieved to have a short reprieve from pseudo-cannibalism. She had emergency rations that would last a couple of weeks – longer, if he kept refusing to eat and she were the only one using the supplies.
Finding her bracelet had been its own lesson in decoding her Saiyan companion. When she had woken from their first -night? - in the pit, she had - quite accidentally - found the bracelet clutched loosely in his fingers as she was groping around in the dark. After snatching it back and viciously clucking at him like a rabid chicken vulture, she was relieved – but unsurprised – to find it completely intact. She knew he realized that she had yelled at him as a release of tension rather than being angry about neglecting to return it to her – but he wouldn't allow her to apologize. What a frustrating ass. It had been her fault she had dropped the wretched thing just after reclaiming it from the guard… and how the Saiyan had noticed it at all after the spectacle of throwing herself at the would-be rapist was impressive. But then manage to pick it up in the midst of his own head dive through the chute – and to hang on to it while he guided them into the rocky prison and during the slaughter of how many aliens down here… that was beyond definition. He didn't even know what it was! He had simply surmised it was important to her and… kept it for her. So, after the guilt of squawking at him just to have him cut off any expression of thanks or apology was infuriating. Yet, somehow, she got the impression that this behavior was typical.
Most alarming, though, and the greatest indicator of his condition - pain. It must considerable considering he was not able to hide it from her. The first time had been in the cell before they did a nose dive down the chute. Since then, the attacks came more frequently, and they appeared to be gaining in intensity.
After however many days in near total darkness, she was able to see outlines, shapes, and movement from a few feet away. Up close – which was all the time, considering he was always in physical contact - she could just make out his expressions and see the tension in his body. She could hear his teeth chatter if he neglected to clench his jaw before a spasm, and his breathing was uneven, horse, and strained. His body heat radiated like he was his own sun undergoing cosmic fusion, and when they slept in a ball of tightly twisted limbs, she felt the oppressive heat burn through her until she felt like she was going to suffocate.
His immediate, ferocious panic when she was out of reach – and the unmistakable state of constant arousal – led her to believe the cause of his pain was somehow sexual. She didn't know what else it could be, and she didn't know how she could help – if she even could. He adamantly refused to be touched. Even accidental contact by her sent him into a frenzy of agonizing convulsions that left her fighting to contain the anguish she felt at being the cause of his pain.
Others were starting to notice.
For now, when someone tested the wide 'no trespassing' zone around them, the Saiyan was still able to take vengeance by inflicting wide spread carnage that went well beyond the unfortunate individual who incurred his wrath. But each time he did so, it took a toll. He would return to her and collapse. It was during these times he would curl himself around her and entwine their limbs in a confused mass. He would hold her like this for hours, trembling and panting, before he could finally relax enough to let her move.
She didn't think he could last much longer. He was so dehydrated, he was no longer sweating. She wouldn't last, either. Every time he had a convulsive attack, she knew she was one less attack away from – whatever he needed from her. She knew he was fighting it.. but she knew it was a losing battle.
And there was nothing she could do about it.
So she spoke to him.
Engrossing in mostly one sided conversation kept whatever seemed to be bothering him at an arm's distance. She supposed it was something to distract him and he seemed to cling to her words as fiercely as he clung to her.
He responded to her when he could; his speech was clipped and his responses were short and anything but elaborate, but when she wasn't speaking, he prodded her with questions to keep her talking. She spoke to him in English, but every now and then, she tried the rich, husky language he used when he spoke to her. Pressed against her back as he was, his chin rested against her temple. His voice in her ear was a fucking phenomenon of sexy and the language fascinated her to no end. She loved the growling noises and chesty sounds she was able to make – and she couldn't help but enjoy the jolt she felt go through his body when she spoke it. He tensed every so often, though, and she supposed he was responding to her grammar mistakes. She had no idea what she said, but based on the painful jab he thrust against her backside when she made those mistakes, she wisely switched back to English. After a few minutes, the iron muscles clutching her to his chest would relax. More often than not, she'd stick with English, but sometimes she switched back to his language.
It was during a conversation in his language that she began to wonder when she noticed a pattern. They hadn't been discussing anything of importance or about anything in particular – it was more… talk just to talk. She had been making general observations about what she did and did not miss on Earth, and had mentioned her particular disgust over mosquitos and other itch-causing insects. He had made a noise in response that clearly stated 'bland disregard' – translated, he was humoring her by agreeing that such creatures would likely be despicable if they could actually bother him. The noise itself was normal – the fact that it wasn't weird was what had actually interested her. He made sounds all the time and she understood them. So -her curiosity had stirred.
"Saiyan language is sounds and words?" she asked him softly in his language.
A throaty growl in a short burst was his affirmation. It was strange to her that the sound itself meant yes – just as the word yes meant yes. Were sounds and words two separate languages that could be used together for emphasis in Saiy-go? Or was it all just one big language that didn't make sense if used separately? After all, she knew the word for yes in Saiy-go was Chaa'gre - but she also knew the sound for it. Was it like English where yes was yes but so was yeah and yep with words but uh-huh and mm-hmm as sounds? That was an easy comparison, but there was nothing in English that could translate a one second grunt into a complex concept that would take several sentences to explain. Nor did she understand how she, as a non-native speaker, could understand the intent behind his sounds just as completely as if she were a native speaker.
Oh, this was interesting! She smiled and tilted her head to glance over her shoulder towards the Saiyan, who was still pressed against her back.
"I don't know how to speak with sounds, but I always understand you when you make them," she observed. He obliged her with silence, waiting to see where she was going. She felt the weight of his attention and she suddenly felt shy. Well, she started it. Might as well finish.
"What is…" she paused, certain she could make the sound, but uncertain if she should. She was getting into that grey area neither of them had breached since he had yelled at her in English that he couldn't speak English. That moment was the moment they, beyond doubt, had realized they knew each other – very well - despite their obvious, mutual memory loss. If she asked what these sounds were, he would recognize the only way she could know them is if she had, at some point, heard them from him.
Nervous but compelled, she considered the first noise. Just like giving human characteristics to animals to understand behavior, she translated the Saiyan noises to animal sounds - and then applied human characteristics. The first one sounded to her like a sugar glider crabbing – freaking adorable, but deeper, chestier, and more of an ornery complaint than a warning. She tried not to laugh as she did it and only succeeded for a few seconds before erupting into embarrassed giggles.
She felt the soft but pleased amusement radiate from the male spooning her.
"Szzound izz… whanndt budt nhodt ghedt," came his husky response in English. "Oar ghedt budt nhodt whanndt," he added dryly.
She grinned. So she had been right. The sound depicted exasperation or complaint, but nothing that was too sinister. Of course, with Saiyans, anything and everything could be sinister. Likely an emphasis could be put on the sound to make the meaning wholly more dangerous.
She probed her elusive memory for a second sound. It was a soft popping noise, almost like a cluck in the back of her throat. She guessed it was a sound of lazy content.
"Izz szleeepihng szound," came his immediate response. "Mhake szzound whhen…," he paused, searching for the perfect term, "hhapphy," he finished lamely. She smiled. She knew what he meant; it was similar to a human, laid out and sprawling in every direction, comfortable as fuck, snoring in such a manner as to say, "God, I'm relaxed and there's not a damn thing you can do to change my mind."
She tried the vibrating hum next – to her it sounded like a purring cat mewing with its mouth closed. It had an upward lilt to it, like a question was being asked. She thought it sounded like a cross between a request and a declaration – almost as if asking 'mine?' at the same time as stating 'mine!' It was odd, but she couldn't think of any other way to describe it.
Vegeta coughed in the middle of repeating the sound, stiffened briefly, and sputtered. She shifted again to peer at him, but he averted his eyes and she suddenly realized he wasn't answering because he was embarrassed. She felt him take a breath and release it twice before caving to her insane curiosity and made the sound again. He stiffened again for a moment, forced himself to relax, and sighed deeply. "Meaanz ahskk whhere izz…" he paused before an irritated growl erupted from is throat followed by a grumpy string of words in his own language.
"The sound is reserved for those linked intimately and is rarely, if ever, used. One makes the sound with the intent that the sound be repeated by the recipient. It is a ridiculous, sentimental practice meant to give or request evidence of presence."
Bulma's eyebrows rose in surprise. Of all the sounds she had demonstrated, this one had been the most simple, but apparently, had the most complex meaning. She had thought it had something to do with confirming a possession… but… taking Vegeta's description into account, it was obviously much more elaborate. Stunned, she blinked.
Wow.
"You mean… that noise is sort of like asking, 'are you there?' or 'I'm right here!' to those of..uh.. significance?" she said softly in English.
He grunted but did nothing more.
Well. That was a yes, even if he had tried to make it sound non-committal. The deceptively simple purring noise may not be a declaration of love, but apparently even Saiyans needed reassurance from those for whom they felt affection. Bulma shifted her mental image of the cat rubbing against her leg. Instead of asking 'Mine?' before declaring 'Mine!' it now said, 'one who is mine, are you here with me?' and "one who is mine, do you see I am here with you?'
Maybe… in a way… it was a declaration of love.
Something in her chest ached and she wanted nothing more than to remember the circumstances behind when he had made such a sound. He must have, for her to have catalogued it in the forgotten corners of her mind.
She wondered.. had she returned the sound when he had made it?
Assuming the Saiyan would appreciate it if she changed the subject, she reached into the hazy, undefined fog of her psyche and another sound erupted from the nothingness. She hadn't the opportunity to form a mental picture of an animal or what the sound could mean before it dropped out of her mouth like cow manure plopping to the ground. The effect on the Saiyan was immediate, profound, and severe. His grip on her tightened until the sound was squeezed out of her chest along with all of her air.
Using his body weight, he shoved her from her side and onto her stomach. With the entire length of him molded against her, and with limbs already entwined, the sudden move into the prone position caused her legs to spread as he practically fell between them. His muscles were rigid and his cock hard, and if it weren't for the spectacular strength of the material of his battle suit, he would have torn right through it and impaled her. He buried a hand in her hair and yanked her head back so that his lips pressed against her ear. His breath was hot on her flesh as he repeated the primal chuffing sounds she had made. A bestial instinct to breed flooded her senses as the sound ripped through her brain, melting away any semblance of thought or awareness. An unholy, rolling wave of wet heat undulated down her spine and burst between her legs. Painfully desperate, she arched her back to receive him. He thrust against her as if he had succeeded in penetration, and they rocked together until - after her screaming need remained unanswered – she was forced to realize she had been denied.
Even as he continued his lust driven, mindless attempts to mount her, she shuddered and wheezed in agonized frustration. Her entire body was on fire and in the carnage left over from brutal, unfulfilled need, she started to sob. The first erupted from her lungs in a guttural cry. The second was more of a wail.
The third was a high pitched keening.
Vegeta abruptly stilled. It was so sudden and complete, it was as if his rigid muscles were made of stone. Even his breath was frozen solid in his lungs.
Horrified when she realized what she was doing, the sound squelched in her throat. She didn't need him to translate that sound. Somehow… she just knew.
"Well aren't we cozy?" oozed a low, pleased voice, thick with arrogance and mockery.
The Saiyan snapped out of his trance, roared, and flung himself toward the intruder. Alarmed, shocked, and bewildered, Bulma rose from her rock perch and tried to follow what was going on with an extreme limited sense of sight. She heard Vegeta snarling, followed by the scraping of feet against the ground, and fists hitting flesh. She heard the stranger's amused laughter and as the noises of their scuffle drew away, she followed them.
Holy fuck, had he spoken English!? How – ? Who was this guy?
And… Why did it seem like he was purposefully leading them somewhere away from everyone else…. and why the fuck did he sound like he was playing with the Saiyan?
"Bulma, right?" he asked - completely relaxed - from somewhere ahead in the darkness.
Dumbfounded, unnerved, and utterly confused, she snapped, "Who the fuck wants to know?"
He chuckled but was cut off as, she presumed, he was socked in the gut. With a grunt and more sounds of fighting, he answered back, albeit with a little less amusement. "I'd be happy to tell you if you'd call off your were-monkey."
Bulma's jaw dropped. She couldn't even begin to know how to respond to that so she ignored it. "How the hell do you – "
"Tell him to stop or I'll stop him myself," he interrupted flatly. "And I think you'd prefer him undamaged?"
Spooked, she paused. Could he really do that?
She didn't want to take any chances.
"I can't call him off. He wouldn't listen to me if I tried," she said softly with a wavering voice.
She heard him sigh followed by a thump, a grunt. Then… a splashing sound - which could only be a body landing in shallow water. Stunned, she ran blindly until two hands gripped her by the arms, preventing her from advancing further.
"What did you –" she screeched.
"Nothing permanent. His bell is rung, that's it. Promise. He's not even unconscious," came the smooth reply.
Her nuclear melt-down was stopped before it started when he shook her and spoke a name she thought she'd never hear again.
"Goku sent me."
He held her up when her legs gave, and she didn't notice when he guided and sat her a dozen feet across from Vegeta – who was, in fact, sitting in water. She blinked, half way registering that she could see him well enough to make out his dazed expression. Her mouth hanging open, she swung her gaze to peer up at the mysterious figure. He peered down at her, his eyes glowing brightly.
Oh, she thought distantly. That's how I can see Vegeta.
She didn't think they had been glowing before. Maybe he turned on the lights for her?
Its official, she mused. My brain is broken. She stared and blinked. I know I must look like a fish, but I can't seem to do anything but sit here drooling.
His eyes dimmed. They still glowed, but with a blueish light that was less intense. She could still see Vegeta – better in fact – but now she could also see the face behind those glowing eyes. The man – teenager? – was smirking at her.
"You're human!" she blurted.
"Yes." He crossed his arms and tilted his head. "And no."
"Huh?"
His grin grew into a wide smile. "Mmmm.. more of uhhh…" he looked up as if considering before looking back at her. "a… cyborg… I'd say. The name is 17."
Her eyebrows pinched in crumpled confusion. "Say what now?"
He sighed and rolled his eyes. "And you're supposed to be Earth's brightest?"
She frowned.
"I used to be human. Now I'm not. I'm human with machine bits thrown in. Sort of like… human 2.0," he said pompously.
"And Goku sent you," she challenged.
"Yes, yes. It's a long story but that's not why I'm here –"
"Then why are you here?" she spat.
"Listen here, genius," he slurred. "If you want to survive, that is!" he inclined his head towards the Saiyan and looked at her pointedly. "That one there is a ticking time bomb. I'm actually impressed you're still alive."
She opened her mouth to speak, but clicked her jaw shut. "Huh?"
He started to pace back and forth in front of her. "You going to be difficult until you know everything, are you? Don't answer that. I've spent long hours listening to too many stories about you to know. I'll explain this once. But only once so keep up." He paused for a moment, presumably to gather his thoughts before resuming his pacing. "My sister and I were on Earth when Frieza invaded. We're androids –"
"I thought you were cyborgs."
He glared at her but ignored her interruption. "We're androids, initially built by a long standing rival of yours – but that's not important right now, minus the fact that because we were made to defeat Goku, we were made quite powerful. We actually weren't completed, yet, but with the invasion – we were released. Without a completed program, we slipped the leash and killed our creator. Of course, our initial programing compelled us to search for Goku and the most successful method of doing that was to join the invasion."
She nodded, indicating she was listening and that he should continue.
"We were purposefully captured so we could...um. We.." He seemed embarrassed. "We were programmed to find Goku, but didn't actually know what to do about it once we found him." He shrugged. "So we just made sure that we stayed close until we decided what to do. We ended up on that moon where you and the monkey helped them to escape. What you didn't know was that we were following them when Vegeta lead them to his ship. No one noticed because androids don't have ki. Seconds after Vegeta left, we just….showed up and knocked on the door. It didn't take much convincing to be invited aboard, especially after Baldy recognized my sister."
He paused. Bulma was certain it was for dramatic effect, but she didn't take the bait. How Krillen knew his sister was a detail she could ferret out some other time. When she didn't respond, he pursed his lips but continued.
"We were there when they slipped through the wormhole," he stated matter-of-factly.
Yep, drama queen. She thought. "Go on," she said out loud.
"We ended up on a planet called Yardrat. We were there for a year. Goku learned a technique that allowed his ki to fold space if he had another ki to anchor him to where he wanted to go. In effect, he can create his own wormhole. We've spent the last 16 months looking for you guys. The distance we've had to travel distorts time relative to your location, though, and every time we catch up, you've already moved on."
Bulma's face twisted in a disbelieving sneer. "I call bullshit! It's only been 17 months since the Earth was invaded!" She hollered. "Give or take a few weeks…," she added as an afterthought. After all, it was difficult keeping track of time when you're constantly stranded in stupid fucking dark caves.
He raised an eyebrow.
"Actually, no."
"Care to explain that math? I think your inner clock is broken, you twisted toaster!"
He narrowed his eyes at her. "This planet is more than just a ball of benzene. Something in its core causes it to be partially phased in another dimension. Time is much, much slower here as a result. Days for you is months for us. That's how we were able to catch up. You were in a place long enough. Of course, we didn't know about the time distortion until I let myself get caught and came to the surface…"
"Well if you didn't know about the distortion until you got here, why do you keep saying we?" she quipped.
He pointed a finger up. "You forget. I have a sister. She's in orbit with all your other friends, waiting for me to tell them about you. They'd have come themselves, but, you know. The whole benzene atmosphere thing."
Bulma narrowed an eye. "I get why they stayed in orbit. But how can you talk to them? You and your sister have WiFi or something? Doesn't the communication get distorted with the time weirdness?"
He shrugged. "We manage."
He glanced at the Saiyan, still sitting in the water. The rock pond was small – about 10 feet wide, 18 feet long, and no deeper than a foot. Vegeta was staring between his bent knees intently at the ground in front of him. He may not seem aware, but everything about him screamed that he was on full alert. He was wholly aware of Bulma – so complete was his focus that he didn't bother wasting attention on the android. Satisfied, 17 planted his feet in front of her and squatted so that his face was level with hers.
"Now for the reason I came."
Suddenly nervous, Bulma hugged her knees to her chest.
"A Saiyan named Nappa followed us through the wormhole."
Bulma stiffened. She didn't know why – she had never heard the name before. Why she would suddenly feel apprehensive and relieved was beyond her understanding.
"For the sake of brevity, I'll say that – after several months of… distrust… and in an interesting and bizarre turn of events mostly mandated by necessity – he joined us. I think it's because he figured out that Goku was connected to you, and that you were connected to Vegeta. He quickly made it apparent that we were running out of time and that we desperately needed to find you."
Bulma shook her head, not understanding. "Why?" she whispered.
He raised his hand to rest it on her shoulder, but stopped when the Saiyan's harsh hiss split the air. Wisely, 17 dropped his hand and looked over his shoulder. "I wouldn't touch her, Saiyan. I know she's yours," he placated in a soft monotone.
Vegeta became silent once more and Bulma sputtered, but was cut off when 17 raised his hand to appease her. He blinked slowly before opening his eyes to look at her without expression. Somehow, this made her even more nervous.
"He is going through puberty," he stated.
Bulma's eyelids fluttered. She sucked in a breath to speak, but nothing came out. Her throat muscles had frozen. Shaking her head, she raised her hands to her face to rub her eyes with the palms of her hands. "That's… not.. possible," she said lamely. "He's…"
"Going through puberty," finished 17.
"H..hhow..? I mean.. what -?"
17 sighed. "Normally, Saiyans hit puberty at an age comparable with humans. Apparently, the transformation is pretty extensive – teenager to full adult all at once. As the body changes, so does their ki capacity, which makes it very unstable until the Saiyan is finished growing. They need telepathic assistance because the process is apparently quite excruciating. They can't control their ki, so someone has to do it for them."
17 stood and looked over his shoulder again before turning back to Bulma. "Vegeta was abnormally strong even as a child. He only grew stronger as he aged. There was no way Nappa – and that Radditz guy – were powerful enough to keep his ki stable while he transitioned into something even stronger. So they telepathically blocked it from happening. It doesn't stop him from getting even stronger, though, so the problem keeps intensifying."
Bulma was incapable of responding. The storm of emotions was…
Her heart broke – but the android wasn't finished.
"It has been over a year since the blocks were renewed. Nappa said that with you around, the deterioration would advance exponentially. He also said it was probably already too late, you were likely already dead – but if you weren't…then Vegeta was doing the impossible simply because he wanted you to live."
He peered at Bulma with an unreadable, unfathomable expression.
Bulma swallowed several times to wet her vocal chords. "Why should I be dead? I could have been light years away when he lost control of his ki. I was before I lost my mind and came looking for him here."
The android shook his head. "Nappa said Saiyans are highly telepathic, and based on ChiChi's description of your, uh, link with Vegeta…" 17 apparently heard the embarrassment in his voice and cleared his throat. Sighing in exasperation, he spoke in a rush. "Nappa said there was a telepathic connection that would predispose your behavior - because you were influenced by Vegeta's fixation on you. In other words, aware of it or not, you'd have chased each other down. His condition would have progressed extremely slowly without your presence, but driven by instinct, he'd have become more and more frantic which would have made you more and more obsessive. Eventually, you would have found each other, even if you didn't know what you were looking for or why."
Bulma let her head fall back until it smacked against the rock wall behind her. Her eyebrows twitched as she stared blankly at nothing, and her mouth hung open.
He grinned sardonically at her pseudo catatonic state. "There simply aren't enough Saiyans in the universe who can telepathically control his pain or his ki so he can satiate his budding need to screw. Basically, his hormones are making him crazy with the need to fuck but he's in so much pain he couldn't if he had to, which he does…which will kill you. But he can't help it, and neither can you. So, Lady Blue, sooner or later, he's gonna lose the last shred of control he has and with or without his ki, you're going to get fucked to death. Literally."
Bulma rose to her feet in a flash and got into 17's face. "I can't believe that! We don't even remember each other! There's no supernatural telepathic link or I'd feel him inside my head! He can't even smell me. If he couldn't hear me, see me, or touch me, he wouldn't even know I was here. So can it, tin can!"
17 raised an eyebrow. Without saying a word, he lifted his hand and created a ball of painfully bright energy. He tossed the light source so that it came to a stop six feet from the Saiyan, effectively blinding him. He then picked up a stone, no more than an inch in diameter. Looking at Bulma meaningfully, he chucked the rock at Vegeta, who had his eyes screwed shut to avoid the intense light. She watched in surprise as the rock pinged off the Saiyan's armor. Vegeta had no reaction. It was like he wasn't aware what had happened at all. Bulma flicked her eyes to the android and shrugged.
"So?" she asked. "He can't see…" she said, uncertain what the point was.
"Pick up a rock."
"What?" she asked, wondering what the hell this was about.
"Just… do it."
She huffed and bent over to pick up the closest rock to her foot, and handed it over to 17 when he put out his hand.
"Watch," he stated simply as he dropped to pick up another stone. Rising, he threw it and received the same non-reaction from the Saiyan when it plinked against his armor.
Bulma frowned. "I still don't see why this…"
17 showed her the rock she had handed to him and chucked it at Vegeta. Only this time, he threw the rock wide and high. The Saiyan launched himself from his seat to catch the stone. He stood in the water, dripping, and peered at the rock in his hand with squinty eyes as if fascinated. Bulma gaped for a moment then turned to look at 17. The android raised his eyebrows. For good measure, he picked up another stone from the ground. He threw it at Vegeta, and like all the other stones Bulma hadn't touched, it struck his armor before it fell, ignored, into the water.
"He didn't see the rocks – his eyes were shut. He couldn't hear them because I didn't throw them hard enough for air displacement to create sound. He couldn't touch them until they hit him. Apparently, he can't smell you - and I don't have a scent. So. There was no way he could know the rocks were thrown until they hit - but somehow, he still detected the one you handled before it hit him. But lets say he did know I threw them. He still only cared about the one you handled."
Bulma scowled. "Ok so he's effected. That doesn't mean I'm effected. Like I said. I don't feel any different."
17 tilted his head and studied her. "Why did you come here again?"
She scoffed. "Because I wanted to ask if he knew why my DNA was, well - I mean, I didn't know if he would know, but I thought he may have an idea why my blood is…" Her voice lost conviction. "I thought, um, he might know why I was different -" She cut herself off. "Well, I don't feel different, but I mean, I am…um.." She sputtered.
Why had she come?
Hadn't she asked herself that same question before she left Frieza's ship? And again when she discovered which prison planet the Saiyan she hadn't remembered was on? She recognized there was likely no escape and yet, she had decided to crash land here! What the hell? To ask why he had donated DNA when she knew deep down he was even less likely to know than she herself was?
She crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine," she hissed. "You win. I'm a puppet guided by a hormonal Saiyan's unwitting telepathic broadcasts and I'm going to die." She glared at him. "That doesn't explain why you're here if nothing can be done about it."
He smiled at her. "Ah, Princess! I said there was nothing that the either of you could do about it! When did I say that I couldn't- "
Bulma slapped the shit out of him.
