Deal

Vegeta sat in the cold, unwelcoming waiting room by himself. His feet barely touched the floor and his chin rested in his upturned hands, his elbows resting on his knees. He was bored. Very bored. He'd been in the waiting room for nearly an hour and he was nodding off from time to time until he jerked awake and frantically took in his surroundings before calming down to the point of falling asleep again. It was not the happiest routine to go through a dozen times.

The young saiyan didn't know for sure why he was even there. He didn't ask to go and didn't feel any need to accompany the woman and her daughter on this little doctor visit. Yet, the idiot blonde woman brought him along, assuming he wouldn't want to be left alone in the compound for such a long period of time. In actuality, he would very much have liked to have some time to himself for a change. Introvert that he was, he was eager to get as much alone time as he could, but with the girl home every day now, he rarely got a moment to himself. She was always pestering him about something, either wanting to teach him more English or asking for him to continue teaching her how to fight.

That was something he was growing to admire about the girl, despite how annoying it was for him. She was unquestionably dedicated to learning to fight even though he could tell she didn't really enjoy it at all. She complained all day long about how sore she was, she cried like a baby if he hit her gently, and she was unable to land a single blow on him when he practically stood still for her. He did get some entertainment from her feeble efforts, but more than anything he found himself not wanting to push her too hard and not wanting to discourage her. That was the most irritating part of the whole ordeal. He was convinced he was going soft, and as much as he dreaded that, he couldn't stop it and for some reason didn't want to. Not with her.

He assumed that the length of his stay in the waiting room was due to the fact that the girl was finally getting that hideous thing removed from her arm. It was probably healed, and only after a little over six weeks. He snorted when he thought about the amount of time it took the pathetic girl to heal such an insignificant injury. Had it been him – without the aid of a regeneration tank – he would have been healed in three or four days. But, as he already knew, humans were a vastly inferior race who couldn't even heal in a decent amount of time when they were hurt.

Vegeta was glad she was getting her cast off, though. It would make teaching her fighting techniques easier since he wouldn't have to worry about the decreased mobility of her arm and hand. Also he wouldn't be so concerned about hurting her in their 'spars,' though he still needed to be careful since she was such a fragile creature. He could tell that she was gaining in strength slowly, but she would never in a million years have enough strength to withstand one of his more powerful blows. He could accidentally kill her if he didn't watch the amount of power he put into his attacks on her.

He was nodding off again when a door opened and the blue-haired girl raced out followed by her mother. Bulma ran over to Vegeta, who was jolted back to wakefulness when he heard the door, and held her arm up to show him it was free of its cast. She was grinning and practically trembling with excitement.

"About time you got that thing off," he commented dryly.

Bulma nodded and turned her arm this way and that to inspect it, making sure she didn't have any noticeable scars on the outside. Of course there wouldn't be; it wasn't as if the bone broke in a way that pierced through her skin. Still, it never hurt to make sure. She clenched her hand into a fist and mock punched Vegeta's cheek.

"I know, right? But it's off now and so you can teach me how to fight better."

He shoved her hand away from his face and stood up, stretching his arms over his head. "Yes, now I can stop holding back in your training."

Her eyes widened. "Holding back? You were holding back?"

"Of course," he said, "Would you really expect me to teach you at a normal level when you were handicapped?"

"No. But it's already hard! How much harder is it going to be now that I can use both arms?"

He smirked. She frowned. "A lot harder."

They walked out of the clinic and got in the hovercar, Bulma chattering the whole way home about all the fun things she could do now that she had her cast off. She was most excited about being able to go swimming and insisted Vegeta join her in this activity as soon as they got back to the compound. At first he refused; after getting in contact with Frieza's nearest base planet he had been trying to get his space pod repaired, but with Bulma home daily he found getting out of the compound to be a very difficult business.

"Come on, Vegeta," she whined, "One afternoon out in the sun won't kill you."

He snorted. "You have no idea."

Now accustomed to his doomsday attitude about ever having fun, Bulma dismissed his comment and twisted around in her seat to look back at the saiyan. "Please, Veggie? Just today?"

His lip curled in a snarl at the ridiculous – and offensive – nickname she had recently given him. He hated it almost as much as he hated the fact that she would eventually win him over with her constant pestering. Anyone else he could easily ignore, but she had a way of breaking through his defenses until he was driven crazy by her persistent demands to spend time together and he would oblige her.

"Stupid girl, I have things I need to do."

"Like what? What could possibly be better than hanging out with me?"

Vegeta sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Right. What could possibly take precedence over your foolishness?"

"Are you being sarcastic?"

"How observant."

"Are you afraid of swimming or something? You never want to swim. Can you swim? I could teach you if you can't."

Vegeta turned his head to look out the window. He tuned her out as she prattled on, wondering how he was ever going to convince her that he was not interested in her attempts to befriend him. He'd tried the cold shoulder method at first, but it was ineffective. Outright insulting her had no successful outcomes. Pushing her away only made her cling to him more, and even training her was useless in the endeavor to get her out of his hair. What else could he try?

"Veggie? Hey, Vegeta! Stop ignoring me!"

He groaned and slammed his head back against the car seat. Her obnoxious voice pierced his concentration yet again. He entertained himself with a few ideas of how he could permanently rid himself of her nagging before shaking them out of his head.

"What?" he snapped.

"Will you go swimming with me or not?" she demanded.

So she was still beating that dead horse. He shrugged one shoulder in defeat. "Whatever, brat, if it will make you shut up."

Bulma beamed at him and turned around in her seat for the rest of the ride home. She won again. She almost always did. He was a stubborn one, but she was stubborn, too. And unlike him, she was willing to use her strongest attack against him: her high-pitched whining and crocodile tears. She didn't know he could blast her into the next dimension, but it didn't matter anyway because he never would. He wasn't yet aware of it, but the blue-haired nine year-old heiress had grown on him.

"I'll make you two lunch and then you can go outside and play," Mrs. Brief said as she pulled into the compound driveway. "But remember not to swim right away after eating, dear."

"Ok, Mom!" Bulma shouted over her shoulder as she jumped out of the car and ran inside.

Mrs. Brief giggled at Vegeta's more dignified leave and capsulated her car. She was happy they were getting along so well. Their personalities were so different and yet so similar it was almost humorous. Vegeta still had a prickly personality, but she could see that her daughter was getting beyond his abrasive, protective exterior. She wasn't so clueless as not to see he was still guarded around her and her husband, so she was doubly glad that at least Bulma was getting through to him. The poor boy, something absolutely awful must have happened to him when he was younger to make him so cautious around others.

'Well, maybe terrible things happened before, but we won't let anything bad ever happen to him here,' she thought as she followed him into the compound. He continued down the hall and she turned to go to the kitchen to start cooking lunch.

Half an hour later Bulma and Vegeta were sitting in the kitchen eating while Mrs. Brief took some food to Dr. Brief in his laboratory. Bulma was giddy with excitement at the prospect of finally getting to swim. She was already three weeks into her summer break and hadn't been in the pool once. She had waited long enough to partake in her favorite summer pastime in her opinion.

"How about I teach you some more English before we go swimming?" she asked once Vegeta finished his enormous lunch.

He took a long drag of his water before answering, "Fine, if you train for an additional hour after dinner."

She pouted a little, but nodded. "That's fair."

"Hn." Vegeta pushed his chair back from the table and led the way upstairs to her room where she always gave him his English lessons.

Bulma sat down at her desk and glanced through all the notebooks they had used up. She was starting to run out of things to teach him. He was an exceptionally bright student, leaving her with little left to tutor him on. He had grammar mastered, so now she spent time teaching him new vocabulary and even started teaching him some of the other languages she knew. But, as with English, he learned those so fast he soon knew as much of them as she did.

"So, how about the names of the regions of Earth? They're all named after the former nations before they united."

"Whatever."

"Ok, hold on." Bulma got up and walked over to the large bookshelf she had in her room. It was filled with books meant to help her with her schoolwork or satisfy her insatiable curiosity about, well, everything. She pulled an atlas off the bottom shelf and took it to her desk where Vegeta was waiting. She opened it and started pointing out all the regions.

"Why is it," he asked after a while, "that there is only one global government but so many languages exist?"

Bulma rapped her fingers on the atlas as she thought about that. "I don't know. Everyone learns English, but I guess people just held on to their old languages in their regions. It's still a part of their cultural identity."

"It would seem to me that all these languages cause disunity."

"Maybe a little. I don't know. It's probably going to take a long time for all those languages to die out. Like yours. Where are you from anyway?" He didn't answer, so she continued, "It's only been a few generations since all the nations united."

Vegeta didn't understand why there were so many languages to begin with. From his experience, he knew most planets had less than a dozen distinct languages. Many – like his own – only had one. These humans were an enigma. Physically weak, they apparently had an extensive history of wars amongst themselves, and not always between two or more separate nations. In a sense, they were a warmongering race just as the saiyans were. The main difference aside from their reliance on weapons was their hypocritical façade of nonviolent, upright civility.

Bulma saw that his mind was drifting away from his lesson as it usually did when he had everything she was teaching him committed to memory. She closed the atlas and returned it to the bookshelf. It had been almost an hour since they finished lunch.

"We can go swimming now," she sang, nudging the saiyan with her elbow. "Go get changed into your trunks and meet me out at the pool."

"Hn." Vegeta stood up and strode out of her room, leaving her to change into one of her numerous swimsuits. He went to his guestroom and dug the Speedo out of the bottom of one of his drawers and changed. He went outside to the swimming pool but didn't see Bulma anywhere. 'Maybe the idiot drowned herself,' he thought as he looked into the pure blue water. Much to his disappointment – and repressed relief – there was no girl with matching blue hair in the pool. 'Where the hell is she, then?'

He was about to turn around and go back inside when he heard the door of the compound slam shut and the girl sprinted across the yard in his direction. Before he could think to dodge her, she tackled him into the pool. He only managed to get out a short shout of surprise before his mouth was filled with the bitter chlorine water.

Vegeta jumped out of the pool and fell to his hands and knees as he retched a few times. Bulma came up to the surface, and after pushing her wet hair out of her eyes, laughed at his display. His tail was extended behind him, bristled and dripping wet, and he was looking at her with a death glare that would have been effective if he hadn't looked like a wet cat.

"What's the deal, Veggie? Water too cold for you?" she teased.

He growled deep in his chest and spat the flavor of the water out of his mouth. "Why would you want to immerse yourself in that foul water?"

"Maybe because I like it," she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest.

Vegeta spat again and pushed himself to his feet. "I do not. That water tastes and smells atrocious. It is giving me a headache."

"Quit your whining and get back in here."

"No."

"Veggie, it isn't going to kill you. Would you rather have nasty water with algae and crap in it?"

"Yes."

"You're impossible. It's really not so bad once you get used to it. Just don't swallow it and you'll be fine."

Vegeta spat one last time before stepping to the edge of the pool and glaring down at the offensive water. He had no desire to get in it again. Not only was the horrible taste lingering in his mouth, but his eyes were burning and it felt like his nostrils were inhaling fire. Still. If she could do it, so could he. Right? He balked at the idea of her showing him up at anything, even if it was as trivial as enduring the chlorine water.

"You can do it," she encouraged him. He turned his glare to her before gracefully diving into the water. He resurfaced behind her and forced back the urge to regurgitate his lunch.

"Happy now?" he grumbled.

"As a matter of fact, I am," she answered cheekily. "That was a really good dive, but I bet I could do better. Water is my element."

'Just because your hair looks like water doesn't mean you are a natural at swimming,' he thought with a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He watched with mild interest as Bulma climbed out of the water and dove back in.

"So how was it?" she asked once she came up to the surface for air.

He shrugged. "Adequate."

"What? Adequate, that's all you have to say?" she screamed.

"You asked, I answered honestly."

"You're such a jerk."

"Well, excuse me. If you do not want my opinion, do not ask for it."

"Fair enough," she conceded. "Then what did I do wrong?"

Wrong? What did she mean by wrong? Didn't she accomplish her goal of getting in the water? Isn't that all that mattered? He didn't think there was a right or wrong way to get in the water. She was obviously crazy. "What are you talking about?"

"My dive. What do I need to fix?"

"What do you mean 'fix?'"

"What I mean is how can I make my dive better than it was?"

"I do not know what constitutes a 'good' or 'bad' dive. If it gets you in the water, then I think it is adequate."

"You're no help." Bulma sighed as she flipped over and started backstroking around the pool.

"Hn." Vegeta watched her for a minute before he swam back to the edge of the pool and pulled himself out to sit on the edge. The noxious fumes were making his head spin and he needed to get out of the water for a while.

"So, Veggie," Bulma said as she lazily drifted by, "You want to race?"

"What would be the purpose?"

"To see who's a faster swimmer, duh."

He snorted. "As if that is not already obvious."

"It's not!" she shot back. "I know you're strong and fast and stuff, but that's not in the water."

"I am still 'strong and fast and stuff' in the water, girl."

"Talk all you want, until you prove it I don't believe you."

"Hn."

"What, are you a scaredy cat?"

"Scaredy what?"

"It's a colloquialism. In other words, are you afraid to race against me?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Stupid girl, I am not afraid of anything."

"Everyone's afraid of something."

"Then I am afraid your incessant blathering will make my ears bleed."

"Blathering? Have you been reading the dictionary again? Anyway, why do you have to act so tough all the time? What do you dream about? That seems to scare you enough."

His expression darkened with barely suppressed rage. "And why," he hissed, "would you think that I have childish nightmares?"

Bulma didn't pick up on his change in mood as she continued her relaxed swimming around the pool. "Maybe the fact that you've woken me up a few times with your screaming. And anyway, I didn't say it was childish. I mean, crappy things have happened to you, it's normal you would have nightmares about it."

Vegeta's lips curled until his teeth were bared in a feral snarl. It was humiliating enough that she heard him, but it was made worse that she had the gall to bring it up and speak lightly of it. His tail bristled as it uncoiled from his waist and started lashing angrily. "Crappy things?" he asked, his voice low and shaking with fury. "Crappy? Girl, do not talk about things you couldn't possibly understand! You couldn't imagine the horrors I have endured."

"I never said it wasn't that bad –"

"Do you know how many times I have been to the brink of death?" he roared, leaping to his feet. "How many beatings nearly killed me, how many fights almost ended in my death, how many people I have seen killed…" In his anger he reverted to his native tongue, which was just as well since he was confessing his murderous ways and some of the worst tortures he was subjected to.

Bulma swam to the edge of the pool and hung on to it with eyes locked on Vegeta's trembling form. The dark irises of his eyes seemed to disappear and his knuckles were white as he clenched his fists tight enough to draw blood from his palms.

"Veggie? Calm down, I didn't mean to upset you."

She had never seen him like this before. She knew he had a bad temper, but she had never witnessed him losing control like this. She pulled herself out of the water and debated whether or not to reach out to him or keep her distance. In the end her fear won out when she saw sparks of electricity surrounding his body and a strong wind blew up out of nowhere and centered around him. Or was that her imagination? If it was, it seemed real enough.

Vegeta fell to the ground and coughed up a mouthful of blood before his body started convulsing with shock. He groaned in pain but betrayed no other sound of discomfort even as a large booted foot started grinding his head into the cold metal floor. He grit his teeth and clawed at the floor, but he couldn't move. Several bones were broken in his legs and feet and the entire lower portion of his body was tingling after the last kick that landed on his spine. He was breathing hard and biting his tongue until it bled to keep from crying out in agony at the increasing pressure on his skull.

He heard the low, gravelly voice of Captain Ginyu mocking him, but with his blurred senses he couldn't make out what he was saying. His vision started fading in and out and he was sure he was going to die this time. His ki was fading faster than his vision as blood seeped out of the hole through his shoulder where a small beam of ki pierced through him.

"What's wrong, little monkey? Are you hurt?" That voice, that hideous mocking voice followed him into unconsciousness.

"Are you hurt?" Bulma rushed over to him when she saw him collapse and start twitching violently as if he were having a seizure. "Vegeta, hey, wake up! Please wake up. Oh, Kami, this is all my fault!" She knelt down beside him and started shaking his shoulders. She was about to run inside and get her mother when he moaned and clutched his head in his hands, the lingering pain of his memory making his head feel as if it were getting crushed again.

He spoke a long chain of curses in every language he knew before he cracked his eyes open and saw a face surrounded by aqua blue hair above him. He saw worry in the azure eyes. He blinked a few times and rubbed his temples gingerly.

"Are you ok?" Bulma asked, sitting down and resting his head in her lap. She ran her fingers through his thick hair, marveling at the strange, feathery texture.

Instead of answering, Vegeta tried to push himself up but fell back when a wave of dizziness overcame him. He released a shaky breath and made a conscious effort to relax his tense muscles. "What happened?" he slurred.

Bulma frowned. "You don't remember? You kind of freaked out and had a seizure or something. Does that happen to you often?"

He shook his head, not fully comprehending what she was saying. He looked at his hands when he smelled his own blood. The palm of each hand had four bleeding semi-circles. He sighed and tried to get up again, but this time his body wasn't willing to respond to his commands.

"Relax, Veggie. Just rest a couple minutes," Bulma told him gently. She ran her fingers through his hair again and smiled when he gave her a subtle nod of agreement.

"I didn't mean to belittle the things that happened to you, Veggie. You're right, I don't understand it and I have no right to talk about it. What you told me was horrible. I'm sorry."

"I don't want your pity," he spat. He felt so drained and he didn't know why. He was fine a few minutes ago.

"Yeah, yeah." Bulma scratched behind his ear and was startled when a low rumbling sound started in his chest.

If he was drained before, he was practically helpless now. Every muscle in his body was so relaxed he couldn't move, as much as he wanted to. His jaw was slack so he couldn't even tell the girl to stop her ministrations. His eyes closed and he fell into an almost hypnotic state until he couldn't even be bothered to care about his humiliating situation as his purring became more audible.

"So you're ok now?" she asked, her lips twitching with hidden amusement.

"Hn." He leaned his head into her hand as she continued scratching.

She broke into a wide grin. "I'm not even kidding when I say you're more like an animal than a person sometimes. Seriously, are you purring?"

"Hn…saiyans…do…" his voice trailed off in an incoherent mumble as he explained why he was so animalistic.

"What's a saiyan?"

"My people…" He sighed contentedly and nuzzled into her. He suddenly felt very tired and wanted to take a short nap in the comfort of the girl's lap.

When she realized what he was doing she considered shoving him off her lap, but he was really too cute to disturb. She maneuvered into a more comfortable position and slowly raked her fingers through his upswept hair. It was weird how it defied gravity even when wet. But then, just about everything about Vegeta was kind of weird. Maybe that was why she liked him so much. He was an oddball like her.

She hadn't really understood anything he said after he regained consciousness. It sounded like gibberish in his half-asleep state. With Vegeta asleep she was able to think about what happened to start his bizarre behavior. They were talking when all of a sudden he blew a gasket and had some royal temper tantrum. He was frightening. How was it that he seemed to generate some kind of power around himself?

"You're a strange one, alright," she murmured. "I've got to learn more about you."

Vegeta didn't sleep long, only fifteen minutes, but he shot up when he realized where he was and why he could smell the blue-haired girl so close to him. He grimaced when he looked at her and backed away until he was precariously close to the edge of the pool.

"What the hell is going on?" he hissed.

Bulma laughed at his reaction and stood up, patting the dirt off herself. "So you still don't remember? You passed out and then went to sleep."

"Let me clarify. What the hell did you do to me?"

"Nothing."

He growled as his tail unwrapped itself from his waist and flicked from side to side. "You did something."

"Nope."

Vegeta sighed and rubbed his temples. There was no possible way he put himself in such a position. He wracked his brain for the elusive memory of the past half hour. He remembered swimming. Then the idiot girl challenged him to a race, which he declined. Then… a metamemory flashed through his mind. Ah, yes, he lost himself in a flashback. But then what? He woke up, his mind still hazy, and felt someone scratching behind his ear…and then lost consciousness again. He slowly shook his head when he remembered what happened. He was disgusted with himself for losing his grip on reality. But he was more irritated with Bulma for taking advantage of his vulnerable state.

"Do not ever touch me again," he snarled.

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Fine, I guess that means you can't teach me to fight anymore, if I can't touch you."

"Fine by me."

She scowled at him. "Seriously, what's the big deal? It's not like I hurt you."

"I would rather you have hurt me!"

"Ok, I get it! You don't want me to be nice to you. You don't have to blow a fuse over it."

He ignored her last comment and wrapped his tail around his waist again. He figured there was nothing more to discuss, so he headed back to the compound where inside he could hopefully have some solitude for a while.

"Wait, Vegeta!" Bulma smiled shyly when he turned to glare at her. "I was wondering… when you got really mad… were there really…sparks…around you?"

He stared at her a few seconds before continuing back to the compound. "You were imagining things, girl."

"No, I don't think I was," she told herself. Either way, he obviously wasn't going to talk about it. She sighed and dove in the pool to swim a while longer. It wasn't as much fun alone, but that was ok. She needed time to think anyway.

At dinner that evening Bulma was abnormally quiet and couldn't seem to keep her eyes off Vegeta. He was mostly ignoring her but occasionally snarled when he caught her staring for too long. She knew he was keeping secrets and wanted to figure out what they were. Vegeta, on the flip side, was determined to keep everything to himself. He'd already let too much slip when he wasn't being careful.

"Bulma, dear, how was your swim this afternoon? Did you have a good time with Vegeta?" Mrs. Brief asked as she passed the steamed vegetables to her daughter. She could sense the tension between them and wanted to make it go away. They were getting along so well earlier in the afternoon.

"Yeah, Mom, it was a lot of fun," Bulma mumbled.

Vegeta snorted when he heard her response. 'Fun' was an interesting way to describe it. Not that he was going to contradict her. He didn't feel like talking to anyone or bringing up what happened.

"I'm glad, honey," Mrs. Brief said. Now that that issue was taken care of, she felt much better.

"Yeah." Bulma pushed her food around her plate, not really having much of an appetite. She watched Vegeta eat out of the corner of her eye. He wasn't going to contribute anything to the conversation.

Dr. Brief dropped his evening newspaper on the table and looked over at the kids. Neither looked happy with the other. Or maybe they weren't happy in general. His mustache twitched in mild amusement when the saiyan's lip curled in a snarl and his daughter quickly looked away from him and resumed playing with her food. His wife may have been convinced that everything was copacetic, but he wasn't. He wouldn't interfere though. Resolving conflicts was not his forte.

Vegeta finished eating and stood up to leave the kitchen. "Don't forget your end of the deal, girl," he said on his way out.

Bulma groaned and slumped down in her chair. Vegeta did swim with her so she had to train for an hour. It wasn't going to be much fun if he was still in a bad mood.

"What deal did you make with him?" Dr. Brief asked.

Bulma pushed her chair back from the table and got up. "I have to train with him because he went swimming with me."

"Do you think all this 'training' is a good idea?" he asked his wife when his daughter left the room.

Mrs. Brief shrugged. "She isn't getting hurt and I think it's wonderful that they're spending time together. He's a sweet boy, he just needs a friend."

"You're probably right," Dr. Brief conceded. He finished his dinner and went to the indoor garden to see what the kids were up to.

"Like this," he heard Vegeta growl when he opened the door of the garden.

"I can't do that!"

"Yes, you can. Stop whining and do it."

There was a shriek and a soft thud followed by grumbling. "I told you I can't do it."

Dr. Brief walked into the garden and saw Vegeta standing near his daughter who was sitting on the ground pouting. Vegeta rolled his eyes.

"Get up."

"I don't want to."

"I don't care."

Bulma reluctantly stood up and crossed her arms over her chest. "Show me how to do it again."

"It's not that hard."

"For you."

"Fine. Watch carefully because I am not going to show you again." Vegeta shifted his weight to his left foot and raised his right leg and kicked it high to the side.

Bulma frowned. "I don't get it. You make it look so easy, but I always fall over."

"Then you need to learn to balance."

"So teach me."

Dr. Brief strolled over to where they were training, chuckling lightly at their banter. He normally didn't interrupt them, but he was interested in watching their little session for a while.

"Stand on one foot for ten minutes," Vegeta said.

"What? Are you crazy?"

"No. Now shut up and do it." Vegeta waited for her to comply, which she eventually did. "Stop rocking like that. Hold still."

Bulma sighed in exasperation and tried to stop herself from wobbling around. It was harder than it looked and after only one minute she wanted to put her right foot on the ground. She knew if she did that, though, he would make her start the whole time over.

Dr. Brief leaned against a tree and pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He put one in his mouth without lighting it, knowing Vegeta hated the scent of the smoke. He chewed the cigarette and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he watched Bulma struggling to balance on one foot. Maybe this training would be good for her. If anyone could do it, Vegeta would be the one to teach her some discipline. He and his wife just didn't have the heart to do it. He would admit before anyone that his daughter was a bit spoiled. It occurred to him as it had often before how mature Vegeta was for his age. Though only a little older than Bulma, he had the mentality of someone three times his age. He was always so serious, well-disciplined, and reserved. What could have made someone so young act so grown-up? He shrugged, figuring he would never know the answer to that question, content with the young boy being able to help his daughter learn to control her mercurial temper and sharp tongue that so frequently got her in trouble.

"How long has it been?" Bulma whined as she almost lost her balance and fell over.

"Three minutes."

Dr. Brief chuckled again, knowing as well as Vegeta that it had been closer to five minutes. But Bulma didn't know that, so she didn't argue and steadied herself to go another seven minutes on one foot.

"Maybe if I had a tail like you this would be easier."

Vegeta snorted. "The only thing that will make it easier is practice."

"That's what you say about everything."

"Because it is the truth."

"I don't feel like I'm getting better at anything."

"You need to practice more."

"So you've told me."

"Then listen and do it instead of complaining so much."

"I'm not complaining!" she shouted, again nearly falling over.

Vegeta didn't grace that comment with a response. Instead he snickered to himself as he circled around her, assessing the way her muscles were trembling with the effort it took to hold her stationary position. She was still so weak. She would always be weak. But if there was anyone who could make her stronger, he could do it. If he cared enough. He hardly bothered pushing her because he didn't care enough to invest the effort it would take. More than anything he did it to humor her and it was a cheap form of entertainment for him.

"How long's it been?"

"Five minutes."

"It's been longer than that!"

"Would you rather do it for ten hours instead of ten minutes?"

"No! That would be insane! No one could do that."

He sneered at her and circled around her again. "I did it in my own training."

She gaped at him. "No way!"

"Girl, I do not lie. I have told you before, I was born with a natural affinity for this sort of thing. What seems difficult for you is child's play to me."

"Hate to break it to you, but you are still a kid."

He shook his head and scowled at the floor. "I was never a child. I was never allowed to have any sort of childhood. I resent being referred to anything but an adult."

"Well, that's just too bad," Bulma informed him. "You're too young to be an adult."

"Being a child or being an adult is not fully contingent upon age. Experience and responsibility can age a toddler enough to be an adult before he can walk on his own."

"What sort of responsibility would anyone give a toddler? Or a little kid? Everyone knows they couldn't handle it."

Dr. Brief was interested in the turn their conversation was taking. It started with Bulma trying to distract herself from the task at hand so she wouldn't notice the burning in her leg, but it turned into something deeper along the way. Vegeta was telling her more about himself than she seemed to realize. But Dr. Brief understood the underlying meaning behind his words. He responded to Bulma's questions and assertions vaguely, impersonally, but it was clear that he was speaking as one who knew from his own experience what he was saying.

Vegeta sighed and raked his hand through his hair. She always talked too much and ended up making him say more than he wanted to. What was it about her that made him let his guard down like that? "It's been ten minutes. Stand on your other foot for another ten."

While Bulma switched feet Dr. Brief pushed away from the tree he was leaned against and quietly left the indoor garden. He could see Vegeta's discomfort in revealing anything about his past, and he knew his presence there was only making it harder. Though Vegeta never really acknowledged him, he knew the boy knew he was there watching. Vegeta had the uncanny ability to always know when someone was lurking around. Perhaps if he vacated the area Bulma would be able to glean some more information out of him. It wasn't that he hoped she would break his confidence by telling her parents what Vegeta said, but he, like his wife, was convinced that Bulma was successfully reaching out to him and could perhaps help him heal psychologically.

Vegeta watched the old man leave and released some of the tension in his body when the door latched shut behind him. He didn't really mind his presence, but he felt more comfortable with fewer people around. One person was about his limit. After that he got edgy. It didn't matter who the people were, aside from his compatriots Raditz and Nappa. Their loyalty was indisputable. But anyone else… well, he never knew who he could trust and it was easier to keep his eye on one person instead of many.

"How long has it been?"

"Not long enough." Vegeta sighed and rubbed his temples. The blue-haired girl was driving him insane, but it was his own fault for forcing her to train for a whole hour. He still had about half an hour to go, assuming she didn't wimp out on him. She had never lasted much longer than twenty minutes at a time.

Bulma frowned and flailed her arms as she nearly lost her balance. She was tired and bored and wanted to do something fun. Even practicing a simple blocking motion was more entertaining than standing around on one foot with nothing else to keep her mind busy. Apparently Vegeta was all talked out because he wasn't even humoring her by telling her how much longer she had to go anymore.

"So what do you want to do tomorrow?" she asked after another minute ticked by in silence.

"Train."

"Other than that."

'Contact Frieza's base and get some idiot technician to guide me through how to repair the coordinate system of my space pod,' he thought. He couldn't tell her that. So what could he tell her to make her leave him alone long enough to get something done? He wracked his brain for a good answer but came up empty-handed. He shrugged.

Bulma interrupted his thoughts as she continued talking. "Because if you don't have anything planned then I was thinking we could talk my parents into taking us to the beach. It's a lot of fun. You've been to the beach before, haven't you?"

"No. And I do not want to go. I have things to do."

"Like what? I'm sure it can wait, Veggie."

"It has been waiting long enough. Either you will stop distracting me from getting this done or I will forcibly remove you from my presence so I can get something productive done tomorrow. Then, when it is finished, we can hang out," he snapped. He left out the part where, once he was done doing what needed to be done, he would leave her and the planet behind and never see her again.

Vegeta left her standing on one foot and went to the other side of the garden to do his own training. He talked too much and needed to get away from the blue-haired girl. He ignored her as she shouted at him to come back, threatening to quit training early. He didn't care. He didn't want anything to do with her anymore. When did he start allowing her past the barrier he erected around himself? Why did he let her in? He couldn't figure it out, and he didn't trust himself around her until he could.

A/N: Aw, they're getting closer. How cute.

Answering reviews: Vegeta got to Earth in early March, went to CC in early April, and this chapter takes place in July. He is 11 at the start and Bulma is 9. Frieza knows where Vegeta is because of the transmission he sent before his scouter went on the fritz. A rescue team has been sent to get him. Bulma could still train with her broken arm because the cast was only on her forearm, so it didn't completely immobilize her. Vegeta could find Goku telepathically if he were looking for him, but since he doesn't know he's there he doesn't make the effort.