a/n - Sorry about the wait guys! I sorta lost all my inspiration...writers block, y'know xD apologies C: I had my doubts about this chapter...I truly was at a loss of where to go next plot-wise, but after some chats with a close friend on Facebook I decided to continue on instead of ending it here like I had originally intended. As always, please don't forget to favorite and review, I'd love to hear what you have to say ^-^
Enjoy~
One Hell of a Trip
It bubbled and oozed against the glass; it seemed to breathe, Bulma noted with a quick scratch of her pen against the notepad. Her blue hair fell in strands before her eyes as she leaned over to the small glass casing that held the strange, apparently living, substance. It looked at first like oil, but it seemed to be rubber-like and plastic, the way it oozed and clung to itself.
She'd been in the park with her son having a simple picnic when she'd stumbled across the puddle of bubbling black ooze. Quietly sipping her soda, she'd been alerted by her son, who had been reaching for the black thing with a disturbing interest in his eyes. Pulling him back, she'd reprimanded him sharply before her attention had been absorbed in the pulsating, glowing puddle of whatever it was.
It moved! Bulma's eyes widened further, if it was possible; she'd been staring with rapt attention, having discovered the thing showed signs of life. Though all her tests she'd made had proved inconclusive; nothing showed up. Results were all across the board and therefore useless to her. The most she could rely on now was her own wit, and hopefully a miracle that could shed some light on this mysterious material.
"Bulma? Where's my dinner?" The growl of a certain grumpy Saiyan now reached her from her haze; glancing up, she saw him standing in the doorway, towel wrapped around his neck, sweat dripping down from his forehead.
"Oh, sorry Vegeta." She apologized, quickly holding her notepad against her chest with a small smile on her face. "I found something interesting in the park today with Trunks, and I just couldn't help myself- I've never seen anything like it before!"
Vegeta hissed impatiently, glancing over at the black lump with a scathing glare, knowing already dinner wouldn't be made that night. "So?" He said, crossing his arms over his chest with a further scathing glance in Bulma's direction.
Ignoring him, she turned to the glass container and bit her lower lip with a gleam in her eye as she murmured, "I've run so many tests on it and I can't find any concrete evidence on it...nothing at all! It's like it's from space, or something."
His attention was slightly caught by Bulma's words. He'd never seen anything like that before either; it was beyond his knowledge.
"It's just so fascinating...I thought it was some spilled oil, or something, but it I watched it for a while and it looks like its breathing, like a living thing. I tried to take a small sample, and it seemed to shrink away from me, like it could feel pain." She bit her lip again, a bit of worry and curiosity in her eyes as she glanced over at him. And, as if he had suddenly disappeared, Bulma began fervently scribbling down more notes, feet tapping against the ground in a steady pace.
Vegeta felt his patience dwindle more; clearing his throat with a clenching of his fists, he seared her with another one of his famous glares, which earned him a hearty thump on the arm as Bulma shot back another defiant look of her own.
"Excuse me, Vegeta, but you're a grown man; you can get your own food for crying out loud." Huffing, she moved her wayward hair behind her ear with a slight jutting of her chin, "I'm on the verge of a scientific breakthrough! There are more important things than you, you know." Happily claiming her victory in the minor spat, Bulma turned on heel, signaling the end of the discussion.
"There should be some leftovers from last night in the fridge you can heat up for you and Trunks." Bulma said, casting a stern glance over her shoulder, "Please, Vegeta, don't forget to feed Trunks this time. He is your son, after all."
"Dad?" Trunks spoke up with a note of curious amusement in his voice, "Is the food supposed to look burnt?"
Vegeta had tried his very best; no doubt about that. But of all the skills he had, cooking was not, and never would be, one of them. Staring in defeat at the black lump of what used to be roast beef, he rubbed his forehead with an impatient sigh. It was too late in the day for this type of grievance.
"Of course it is, Trunks." He sarcastically snipped, vengefully shoving the food into the trashcan. "Very well, I suppose we'll have to make something else." With a look that suggested a fierce determination, he strode to the fridge and swung open the door.
"No offense dad, but you're a pretty horrible cook," Trunks teased, a mischievous look twinkling in his eyes. "Why don't we just order pizza or something?"
"I am an adult Saiyan, Trunks, I am capable of great acts of power...I am sure cooking is not that complicated." Vegeta said through gritted teeth; he could feel his blood pressure rising at the thought of the simple act of cooking besting him. He had faced countless numbskull opponents throughout the years, been kicked, punched, stepped on, energy blasted; you name it, he probably suffered it. And yet he had still persevered through it, on a persistent quest to surpass Kakarot. He was not, would not, be bested by the simple act of cooking. Bulma did it, why couldn't he?
Trunks snickered quietly, resting his chin on his hands as he mumbled, "If you say so..."
As if to suggest that he knew his father was incapable of this mundane household chore, the young boy lifted the phone from its cradle and held it out to his father, as a final chance to accept defeat.
Vegeta hung his head; gripping the handle with a hiss, he seared the burnt mess with a glare that suggested he was having none of this crap. "I can do this!" He shouted, slamming the door shut with a lift of his head. Yes, he'd been through too much pain and suffering to fall down before such a...womanly task.
Behind him, his son's faint laughter echoed his own foreboding sense of impending failure.
I can do this...
I have to do this.
Such thoughts echoed through her mind as the land stretched on endlessly before her; she'd been running as fast and hard as she could for quite a while now, only stopping when she physically could not run anymore. Yet even as her mind whispered assurances, told her there was no way he could find her now, the other part of her mind remained resolute in the simple fear that he knew where she was. That he was following her, carefully tracking her every move.
For her own sanity, she had to dismiss this thought. There was no way she'd be able to keep a cool head with that sort of panic-inducing idea buzzing around in her mind.
Yet, even as she'd dismissed it, stuck to the cold hard facts she thought to be true, she ran harder and faster than she needed to if she had truly believed she had outrun him.
She had to believe that he was long gone.
She had to believe that he wasn't breathing down her back; coolly surveying her futile attempts at escape like a cat stalks its prey...
No, no...I can't think like that. Goku's always talking about how important it is to be hopeful, faithful, and I think he just might be right...I can't let myself panic.
She inhaled a crisp lungful of morning air and exhaled through her mouth; slowing her pace, she paused from her lengthy strides and looked around her. The mountains stretched out through the landscape like the roots of a tree; small inclines and hills poked up from the ground and left little room for a thick forest to inhabit. Off in the distance, however, she could spot the outcropping of a dense forested area.
As much as Chi-Chi wanted to duck and weave through the trees in the hopes of losing him in the case he was following, the path she needed to take was away from the forest. If she could reach the city, she could reach Bulma; hopefully her suspicions were right, and her husband was simply training with Vegeta or something...otherwise, she had no idea. If she had her skycar, she could've flown to Master Roshi's...but, in the hasty escape she'd made, there had been little time to snatch her vehicle.
Pressing a hand against her sweat-drenched forehead, she shifted her weight onto her hip; the cool breeze stirring across the open landscape twirled through her skirts, giving relief to the heat that seemed to choke her mercilessly. Luckily, she should, in theory, be near the city; she would find Goku and have him deal with the strange man that showed up in her house demanding the location of the Saiyans. He'd fight, save the day, and probably stay with her for a little while before something else would cause him to fly away, spitting excuses about the greater good of the world or some such nonsense.
While she didn't begrudge the safety of the world, was it too much to ask for a romantic dinner once in a while?
With a exhale that settled her wandering thoughts on the matter at hand, she glanced over at the horizon behind her. A small thorn of fear struck her, as if she expected a dark shape to be flying towards her. Of course, her fears were wasted, because there was a nary a hint that he was chasing after her. Or, if he was, he was hiding quite well. Feeling relieved, she focused her attention on the rough dirt path ahead of her. It still a long ways to go, but she'd figure she'd make it within a hour or so...hopefully.
Ducking her head and sucking in another lungful of air, she sprinted forward, continuing the long journey towards escape.
It hadn't surprised him. Though, really, with the dark and foreboding thoughts clouding his mind, it shouldn't have shocked him. Stranger things had happened, after all.
Soaring through the air at breakneck speed, Goku slowed his flight and gave quick glances at his sons. "Gohan, Goten, hold up a bit." He called out, his eyes narrowing as he confirmed what he'd suspected all along.
Both boys paused in their flight, eyes wide with concern. Gohan, especially, had caught on to Goku's anxiety quite early. With clenched fists, Gohan simply said, "You sense it, too."
Goku chuckled, briefly gazing over at his eldest son, "Yeah, I was hoping it would turn out to be nothing, but it's not looking too good." There was no denying it now; Goku, as well as his son, could sense the presence of evil on their humble planet. While it was not truly evil as, say, Freiza or some of his past enemies had been, there was no mistaking the dark intents midst the moderate power.
"Wait, sense what?" Piped up the youthfully innocent Goten, who couldn't quite grasp the sensitive power-sensing abilities his brother and father had so skillfully achieved.
"There's an evil power on the planet, Goten," Goku patiently explained his son with a light tone to his voice, despite the urgently pressing matters of an unknown evil being on earth. "And from the looks of it..." His voice trailed off abruptly; with tensed muscles and a hard clench of his jaw, the Saiyan looked positively on edge. Alarmed, Gohan glanced around, searching for the source of his father's fear.
"Dad? What is it?" Gohan said, a traceable streak of fear weaving through the stubborn hardness of his tone.
"Its...it's your mom," Goku said after a moment of silence, "the evil, I...I can sense it near her." His dark-eyed gazed settled on his son, though he seemed to absently stare past him as he said, "Its chasing her."
To Be Continued