Special thanks to BluEydMnstr for another great beta job.

Chapter Ten

It took a little while, but Goku finally managed to calm himself down, much to Bulma's immense relief. She couldn't help her mate or their son without Kakarotto's alternate self, and the thought of her only possible alternative - Vegeta - was unacceptable in her mind. She didn't give a damn that Goku seemed to trust him; she wasn't about to ask him for anything. Now her problem was how to make this man that seemed so different from her own Kakarotto understand? There was so much to tell, and very little time to do it.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow as he observed Bulma from his place several feet away. As if reading her mind, he uncrossed his arms and turned his attention to his fellow Saiyajin. "Kakarotto, you will need her memories before we can proceed."

Bulma gasped sharply and turned her wide, questioning blue eyes towards the stony Saiyajin Prince, both from hearing Vegeta voice the very same thought she had kept silent and the sheer idiocy of such a statement. Then, to her even greater surprise, Goku nodded as though it were the most obvious solution in the world.

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing," he replied, all traces of humor suddenly vanishing from his face.

Bulma blinked several times. Moments earlier, Goku was laughing his ass off like a small child who'd heard a good joke, and now... It was like a light switch being flipped. In the time it took her to breathe, his entire demeanor had changed to one that was much more familiar to her, though it seemed to do little for his intellect, she mused sourly. "What are you two talking about?" she cried, throwing her hands hopelessly in the air. "Just because I'm mated to a version of Kakarotto in my timeline doesn't mean that Goku will be able to use our bond," she pointed out impatiently. "I would think you of all people would know that."

"I am well aware of the bond's limitations, woman," Vegeta responded evenly.

"Yeah, I won't use the old bond," Goku assured her casually.

Bulma threw wary glances at the two. "I don't know about this," she murmured uneasily. Sure, she needed him to know what was going on, but it didn't change that fact that Goku seemed a little too unpredictable for her to feel comfortable with him attempting to do anything related to being inside her head. Besides, she was aware that their race held greater telepathic abilities than most humans, but it was only strong enough to do what they were suggesting with a mate or child. Had her Kakarotto been able to read anyone's mind, he would have done so any time one of Frieza's spies was apprehended, and lord knows it would have saved many lives in her reality. Still... what choice did she have?

Vegeta smirked caustically. "Your concern is pointless," he stated matter-of-factly. "You have no other option."

It was the second time he had spoken her inner thoughts out loud, and that was two times to many for her liking. "Stop doing that!" she cried, her voice tinged with anger and confusion as her eyes flashing dangerously. "What the hell do you know? You know nothing about me!"

"Hn." Then, before Bulma had a chance to move, Vegeta was directly in front of her, deep obsidian eyes boring into hers meaningfully. When he spoke, his words were a mere whisper that Goku had to strain to hear. "You are very similar to the woman of our time, and I assure you that I know the mother of my heir quite well. It is you who is unfamiliar with me."

Bulma opened her mouth but found she couldn't come up with a good reply to that simple truth. And as if cued, her mind suddenly recalled Isaka's words: the Bulma Brief of their timeline had a son that was half Saiyajin as well, but that boy - Trunks was his name, she remembered - wasn't Goku's child. It was Vegeta's.

Seeing the mixed emotions sweeping her delicate visage, Vegeta stepped back and took his typical defensive stance, though he did not release her gaze. "The only way we can bring the woman back is if you allow Kakarotto to look within your memories," he continued gruffly. "You will find that his abilities are sufficient to perform this task."

Goku could tell she wasn't totally convinced of that last bit, so he took the opportunity to turn her around, though he had to lean down so that their eyes could be level. "Listen, I know this is kinda strange. It is for me, too, but there are a lot of people down there" - his eyes darted downward - "that need Bulma. Her parents, her son, and my son, too... I have to get her back home, but I can't do it without you. And I can tell that you wanted something from me, right?" Bulma nodded slowly. "Then let's help each other out. I promise, I wouldn't do anything that might put either of you in danger. You have to trust me, Bulma. If you can do that, I'll handle the rest," he implored honestly as he rested his hands on her shoulders. "Do you think you can do that?"

If there was one thing she had learned through countless years of senseless violence and endless espionage attempts, it was that she should never trust anyone she didn't know intimately. She had taken that to heart, only confiding in those who had proven their loyalty to her repeatedly. Hell, it was well after Isaka was born that Bulma began to trust her own mate entirely. She had loved him with everything she was, but she had also learned early on in their unusual relationship that love and trust were two very different things, and contrary to what she had been told as a starry-eyed little girl, it was very easy to have one without the other. She remembered the first few tense years vividly. It took her a while to learn how to explore his thoughts and feelings through their mental link, and it took even longer for him to allow her total access to everything within his mind. It had been more than worth the wait in the end, she knew, but it didn't change the fact that she had mated and had a child with Kakarotto, and she wouldn't have let him do this to her for the first several years she had known him, let alone the first hour. So why should she believe Goku now?

The voice in the back of her head was quick to correct that thought. It wasn't really about why she should trust him. The real question that plagued her was why she already did.

"Bulma?"

Bulma licked her lips anxiously, but she couldn't make herself look away. Even the most basic physical features that should have been identical to the Kakarotto of her time were almost unrecognizable on the warrior pleading with her now. The expression on Goku's face was one she hadn't seen on anyone for so many years... Onyx orbs that should have been narrowed and cunning were wide open and infinitely gentle, silently pleading for her help, for her trust, speaking more to her than any words could have and setting her spirit at ease in a way she knew she wouldn't be able to understand. Not yet.

For only the second time in her life, Bulma chose blind faith over proven fact.

Goku was already wearing a relieved smile before she had time to nod her head. "Thank you, Bulma." He straightened himself out, a thoughtful frown on his face. "About how far back will I need to go so that I can help Bulma and Isaka both?"

Good question. She considered for a minute. "If we're going to do this," she began softly, her cheeks coloring slightly, "you might as well start at the beginning. I think it's the only way we'll be able to figure out where the initial point of divergence is within the two timelines."

"I must be a lot smarter where you're from," Goku noted with an apologetic chuckle, "'cause you just confused the hell outta me."

"Fool, she needs to know what happened in the past that caused her reality to differ from ours," Vegeta growled irritably.

The younger Saiyajin scratched his head for a second. "So this is kinda like the difference in Mirai Trunks' timeline and ours when he changed our future by warning us about the androids and giving me the antidote for that heart virus?"

Vegeta nodded curtly. "As you will recall, his future remained the same while ours changed, although" - Vegeta's scowl deepened - "you were still unable to keep yourself alive."

"You know," Goku argued, a playful glint in his bright eyes, "by the way you talk, I'd almost think you've missed me, Vegeta."

Vegeta's arms tensed across his chest as he huffed dismissively. "Fucking asshole, my goal was to kill you with my own hands, and I was deprived of my right to do so."

Bulma felt her anger threatening to erupt at hearing such a blatantly aggressive comment towards someone as obviously kind and forgiving as Goku, but one look at the taller man stopped the budding hatred in its tracks. I'll be damned... She looked back to Vegeta and noticed the minute upward curve of his lips. What the hell kind of reality do they come from? They're almost acting like -

"Whatever you say," Goku answered, laughing before turning back to Bulma. "I get what you were saying now, Bulma," he reported, his entire attitude going back to serious so fast that it took Bulma a moment to process the switch.

"Wait a minute." Bulma took a deep breath and massaged her temple to try and slow her brain that seemed to be spinning out of control. "You mean this kind of thing's happened to you guys before? That's how you knew about alternate timelines?"

The Saiyajins glanced at each other, and Bulma couldn't get over the feeling that they were somehow trying to come to a decision without actually saying a word. A moment later, Vegeta turned his head to the side and snorted while Goku shrugged noncommittally. "It's kind of a long story," the taller man explained somberly. "A lot happened, and it'd take forever to tell you all of it. It's gonna take a while for me to get through all your memories as it is."

Vegeta's eyes narrowed critically. "Exactly how long? I've wasted enough of my training time as it is, Kakarotto."

"Well, if this works and the dead Bulma and I are able to figure out how to get to our Bulma, hopefully it won't take too long after that," Goku reasoned. "It's sifting through over twenty years of memories that's the trick. That's gonna take several hours, I'd guess. Then figure in the time it'll take for me to try and come up with what happened that made things change, and then -"

"Stop babbling and take me back," Vegeta commanded roughly. "It's obvious that you will not be available to spar, and I will not lose another day of training wasting my energy in this wretched dimension." When Goku looked like he might protest, Vegeta stopped him with a dismissive grunt. "You will inform me immediately when you've drawn the necessary conclusions and are ready to retrieve the woman."

Goku was satisfied with that, especially since Vegeta had a good point. There wasn't much he would be able to do until they figured out how to get Bulma back. And the Chikyuu-raised Saiyajin had a suspicion that Vegeta wanted to check in on Trunks, though he wasn't about to try and confirm that with the proud prince. Instead, he nodded in agreement and put a hand on the diminutive Saiyajin's shoulder. Then he turned and gave Bulma a wave.

"Be back in a flash!"

Bulma was gaping at the two, her face contorted with shock and rage. How dare they go off like this... there was no time! Didn't they hear a word she said? Did they think they could do whatever they pleased just because they were tough guys? Never mind that she had fallen God-only-knows how far to find Son Goku, but did he even care? And what the hell was Goku talking about, 'in a flash'? The fool was putting two fingers to his forehead and narrowing his eyes in concentration as though he believed that if he thought about it hard enough, he'd get where he wanted to go. She couldn't decide who she wanted to strangle more - Goku for acting so stupid, or Vegeta for going along with it. She'd been all over this realm, and she knew firsthand that it would take them at least two days just to get back to the check-in station, let alone -

The pair became a blur, then vanished before her bulging blue eyes.

Her jaw worked furiously, though her voice wouldn't come out for several minutes, making her look like a fish out of water. Of course, when her throat did manage to make a sound, it was loud.

"Damn them, I want to know what the hell is going on here!" she bellowed furiously at the top of her lungs to the empty planet around her - or so she thought.

"What's all the racket?"

Bulma spun around to find Kaio-sama waddling through the front door of the small house, a ruffled eye cover sitting lopsided on his forehead while he fiddled to straighten his trademark sunglasses. She blushed in embarrassment; she had forgotten that he would be somewhere around here. He froze when he noticed who it was that had actually made the ruckus and made several indistinguishable croaking sounds. Bulma opened her mouth to apologize, but she stopped short and her brow furrowed when she noticed that he seemed to come out of his initial surprise; he fixed his unseen eyes on a point just over her left shoulder and frowned, antennae twitching.

"Damn it, Goku, are you trying to see if you can scare Bulma back to life?"

"Sorry, Kaio-sama," came Goku's light-hearted reply from just behind her.

She did another full one-hundred eighty degree turn, ignoring the sudden feeling of light-headedness that came with it. "What... but you... how...?" Bulma stammered helplessly before her brain finally hit the breaking point. With a final unrecognizable squeak, the aqua-haired woman went limp and crumpled. Goku, having sensed that she was about to faint, was already there, and he pulled the unconscious woman into his arms, glancing at King Kai uncertainly.

The portly deity put his hands defensively in front of him, flailing them frantically. "Don't look at me!"

Goku looked down once again at the lovely woman lying cozily against his chest and sighed. "Ah well, I guess we'll start when she wakes up."

"How do you want us to proceed in light of this situation, Kakarotto-sama?"

The frowning Saiyajin stalked across his private chamber. Upon arrival, he found that Isaka had already gathered Serori, Laresk, and several officers of the army. It was a particularly burly, orange-skinned humanoid who was almost two feet taller than Kakarotto that had asked the question.

"That depends, Nesu. Has there been any intelligence that would have forewarned us of the presence of Frieza's spies on Earth?" Kakarotto questioned darkly.

Everyone in the room except for Isaka blanched visibly at the threatening tone, knowing that if anyone had known and hadn't told their leader right away, that very unfortunate individual would likely not be alive to see sunrise.

Nesu remained still, the sound of him clearing his throat the only indication of his nervousness. "There has been nothing, my lord. I have personally overseen the results of every watch since we learned that Frieza was en route. If they came within the past seven days, they are using a form of stealth technology to infiltrate our shields that we are unfamiliar with at this time."

"It is more likely that they have been here for some time," Laresk offered shakily. "If we check the registry, I'm sure -"

Isaka was already shaking his head. "I already have, Laresk-san. That species was banned from Earth two years ago after Mother intercepted questionable transmissions from a small colony within District 32. As soon as it was confirmed that they were part of Frieza's group, the ones who attempted to contact him were executed, and the rest were exiled."

When Kakarotto turned to Serori, the scientist's silver eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Perhaps they have been in hiding?" she mumbled after a short pause. "They could have gone underground to avoid being discovered until the time when Frieza planned to attack."

"It would have been difficult for them to remain undetected for any length of time," Nesu pointed out, "but I suppose that it is possible."

"Um, I don't mean to interrupt, but I think you're forgetting something?"

All heads turned toward the new voice coming from the adjacent bedroom. Laresk and Serori threw furtive glances at Kakarotto, who was scowling impatiently at the blue-haired woman entering the room. Nesu and the rest of his comrades, having heard of a newcomer in rumor only, looked as though they were seeing a ghost.

"This is not your concern," Kakarotto growled warningly at the approaching female.

Bulma stopped once she was beside Isaka, arching an eyebrow and placing a thin hand on her hip. "I can help you," she stated matter-of-factly. "Besides, it'll be my business if I'm not able to get myself back before that freak attacks you guys."

Isaka's eyes darted between the equally determined faces of his father and his mother's alternate self before taking a tentative step between them. "Bulma-san is right," he noted quickly. "There is very little time before his arrival, and she may have knowledge that can assist us in defeating the Icejin," he went on, his voice growing more confident as his thoughts came together. "He has already been destroyed in her timeline. Perhaps we should listen to what she knows," he suggested hesitantly.

The older Saiyajin's fiery eyes widened marginally. "Frieza is dead in your version of time?"

"Yeah, he's been dead for over three years," Bulma confirmed as she took another step towards the glowering Saiyajin. Her eyes stayed firmly planted on his as the distance between them was closed to within a few inches. "I can help you," she repeated meaningfully, "if you'll let me."

Nesu shifted uncomfortably, witnessing the bizarre scene unfolding before him. "Kakarotto-sama... I... I don't understand -"

Kakarotto's unblinking eyes never wavered from Bulma's. "Leave us," he commanded quietly, though his voice was easily heard within the entire chamber.

A number of apprehensive looks were passed between the other occupants within the circle, but none deemed it necessary - or healthy - to question the powerful warrior's order. Serori lead the way with Laresk and the small security force behind them, Laresk whispering that he would bring Nesu and his troops up to speed on Bulma's startling presence. Isaka was the only one that remained, and he waited until the room was clear before speaking.

"Does this mean you will allow Bulma-san to stay and help us?"

"We will see," Kakarotto conceded after a moment's consideration. "I would like to hear what she has to say on this matter." He finally looked away from the cerulean gaze of Bulma and moved his attention to the identical eyes that belonged to his son. "But I make no promises."

"Father, I really think -" Isaka began quickly, hoping, praying that he could sway the man's opinion.

A wave of a hand stopped the young demi-Saiyajin immediately. "I have said that I will consider it," he affirmed impatiently. "You will retire for the night," he went on, a small smirk curving his lips. "You have a rigorous training session tomorrow, and you will need your rest."

Isaka had almost begun to believe his father would let him go without punishment for his journey into the city, but he realized how silly that idea had been. And on the bright side, he reasoned, he needed to train anyway, or else his father wouldn't let him help fight against Frieza and his minions, either. With one last helpless glance at Bulma and a reluctant nod, the boy turned away and began walking to the open door.

"Good night, Isaka," Bulma called just as Isaka entered the hall. "And thanks... for what you did earlier, I mean," she added with a gentle, maternal smile.

Isaka blushed lightly and grinned back, inclining his head slightly. "You do not have to thank me. I..." His smooth brow furrowed slightly as he debated what he should say next. A fraction of a second later, he shook his head dismissively and let the rest remain unspoken. "Goodnight, Dad, Bulma-san."

As soon as the heavy door closed with a dull boom, Kakarotto's calm appearance fell away. He glowered down at the smaller woman, growling menacingly as he closed what little distance remained between them. "I will have you know," he hissed, "that if I had not given my word to no longer kill unless lives were at stake, you would be dead right now."

One of Bulma's thin blue eyebrows lifted skeptically. If Kakarotto was betting on frightening Bulma into submission, he was going to be very disappointed, and Bulma set her jaw stubbornly, placing her hands on her hips. "Even if you hadn't made that promise, you wouldn't kill me, so don't try to scare me with empty threats. I've been listening to them for years, and I know when a Saiyajin is bluffing."

"You are trying to involve yourself in things that are not your concern," Kakarotto seethed. "You have been treated as a guest, and I have been willing to overlook your curiosity into this reality. It... it was no more than I would have expected," he admitted under his breath, almost as if he were talking to himself, his eyes distant for a brief moment. Then he shook his head roughly to banish the thought away, and those obsidian orbs came back into focus. "But I will not tolerate anyone jeopardizing the welfare of my son."

Bulma shuffled guiltily and cast a furtive glance at the floor. "I didn't mean to put Isaka in danger. If I had known -"

"I warned you. I told you that you know nothing of us or our time," Kakarotto interjected impatiently. "You chose to ignore it."

"That's not true! I stayed up all night reading about this place!" Bulma shot back, glaring at the towering Saiyajin.

"And you assumed that a half-assed history lesson would prepare you for the dangers that lay outside these walls?" Kakarotto raged, his eyes blazing so brightly that Bulma unconsciously took a hasty step back, which he quickly matched with one toward her before leaning forward so that his eyes leveled with hers. "Damn it, Bulma! Earthlings who have not been genetically enhanced are not allowed within certain areas for a reason."

Bulma spluttered uncertainly for a moment before collecting herself. "And why is that exactly? Why should people have to be herded like cattle around here?" she asked indignantly.

"Because there are over seventy different species that inhabit this planet, and every one of them is considerably stronger than humans!" Kakarotto forced himself to calm down, closing his eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath. "And it is especially dangerous for one such as yourself. Half of those creatures come from cultures that consider rape as an acceptable form of courtship, and it is not unheard of for an attractive woman who strays out of bounds to disappear without a trace. You see, it is widely believed that human females make excellent pleasure slaves because of their situational adaptability and their virtual inability to defend themselves," he added darkly. "And that is only if you were not identified as Bulma Brief."

"And if I had been recognized?" she countered. "Sounds like it would have been better for me to go into town as myself! At least those goons in the alley wouldn't have tried to attack me. I saw how scared that guy was when he saw my face."

Before Bulma knew what was happening, Kakarotto grabbed her arms as roughly as possible without bruising her, and Bulma gasped when he gave her a firm shake. "If they had immediately recognized you as my mate, they would have acted much more quickly, and I probably would not have gotten there in time! The one that tried to escape did not run simply because he identified you and Isaka." He gave her a moment to let it sink in, and when he saw comprehension within her stormy eyes, he allowed his grip on her to lessen.

"But... but Isaka - "

" - exhibited strength and ability beyond anything I had expected of him," Kakarotto cut in firmly, "but if the situation had happened differently, I do not know if he would have been able to protect you. Now do you understand the danger you put yourself in?"

Bulma swallowed before nodding resignedly. Kakarotto regarded her solemnly for another moment before finally releasing her, quickly stepping back and folding his arms over his chest. "Then I will trust you not to venture outside of this complex again." He held up his hand to stop her imminent protest. "Anything you need can be found here. I have already advised Laresk that you are free to explore these grounds, but anything beyond that is off-limits. Should I hear that you have violated my hospitality a second time, I will have you locked in your room until one of my technicians can repair your craft."

"You're out of your mind!" Bulma wailed derisively. "No offense to your expert staff or whatever, but there's no way in hell they could fix the time machine without me, and that would mean that I'd be stuck here with you guys indefinitely."

"That is true, but you would be safe and, more importantly, out of my way," the Saiyajin noted impatiently. "There is much to be done before the Icejin tyrant arrives, and little time to do it."

Bulma sighed in exasperation. "Fine! Fine, I'll stay here, but at least let me help you get ready for him!"

"No."

"But you told Isaka -"

"I told Isaka that I would consider it, and I have," Kakarotto replied sternly. "Tomorrow, you will go to the secondary engineering bay and begin repairing your ship, and you will have it operational before Frieza's arrival."

"And if I don't?" Just as she expected, Kakarotto spun around, his face contorted in a mixture of disbelief and renewed rage. She refused to cower in front of him like she knew anyone else would have - three years living under the same roof as Vegeta had schooled her in such displays. Keeping her own visage perfectly calm, she tilted her head slightly and shrugged. "Well, there's no guarantee I'll be able to fix it in time," she elaborated evenly. "I'm not even sure what happened. Working that problem out on its own could take weeks."

"Woman -"

"And then," she continued as if he hadn't even spoken and began making her way around the room, ticking each point she made off on her slim fingers, "there's the technology thing. You guys seem to have a lot of different stuff than what I used to build the thing. Finding replacement parts alone could take... oh, I don't know. If they can be salvaged from somewhere, a few days, but if they have to be manufactured from scratch, I'd have to draw up designs myself, and I'm not sure I remember all those measurements..."

"You know damned good and well you remember every placement of each individual nut and bolt and the exact color of every wire in anything you build, so do not pretend to be dense," Kakarotto sneered.

Bulma came to a halt and glanced over her shoulder, contemplating the strange and frighteningly accurate statement. "Normally, you would be right about that," Bulma allowed cautiously, "but I already told you that the time machine wasn't my original design, remember?" After another significant pause, Bulma made a sudden about-face and moved forward resolutely until she was the one forcing Kakarotto to step back, studying the familiar features curiously.

The confused warrior leaned back even further, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he snapped callously.

"I just realized something." Bulma continued staring at the man's guarded expression, her own face softening significantly as she drove on. "I thought you were angry because of what could have happened to Isaka, but so far, all you've really talked about is what could have happened to me. Why is that?"

The muscles in Kakarotto's jaws flexed erratically for a moment before he cleared his throat self-consciously and forced an indifferent gaze on Bulma. "I am the ruler of this planet," he replied tightly. "It is my responsibility to ensure the safety of those who are" - he smirked negligibly - " too weak to protect themselves and too arrogant to admit that they have that unfortunate shortcoming. Humans seem to have an endless supply of such traits."

Bulma leaned in another inch and smiled humorlessly. "Bullshit."

The increasingly wide midnight eyes blinked twice before Kakarotto snarled, retreating slightly before standing back up at full height. "I have given you my command, and you will follow it... to the letter," he growled menacingly. "Now I suggest you retire for the night. I will have Laresk collect you in the morning so that you may begin working on your ship."

"No," Bulma declined stubbornly.

"No?"

Bulma squared her shoulders defiantly and gave the stunned Saiyajin a curt nod. "That's right. I promised Isaka that I would help you guys get ready for -"

"I forbid -"

"- the attack, and I won't break my word to him. I don't give a shit what you command, Mr. Big-Bad Saiyajin. I'm going to stay, and I'm going to help whether you like it or not."

"Damn it, woman, I grow tired of repeating myself. I will not have this conversation with you again. I have made my decision, and you will abide by that if you wish to keep the freedoms I've allowed you!" Kakarotto shouted, his eyes boring into hers.

"Except we've never had this conversation before," Bulma stated sarcastically as she rolled her eyes, but when they fell back on the handsome fighter's form, she noticed that the tremendous fury was gone from him, replaced by something Bulma couldn't immediately place. His expression would probably seem blank to anyone who hadn't spent much time around Saiyajins, but for Bulma, it was startlingly familiar. It was an expression Goku had worn when something bothered him that he couldn't quite put his finger on. It was a mirror image of how Vegeta had looked since Son-kun died. She could only liken it to a weird hybrid of detached confusion and well-masked apathy, and seeing such a display on Kakarotto's chiseled features made her stomach sink to her feet. "I'm sorryi," she offered regretfully. "I guess you have had to say this all before," she added without thinking.

Her eyes widened as she remembered how he always reacted when her alternate self was mentioned... especially when she was the one to talk about her, so she was surprised when his body seemed to relax so much that she feared he might collapse. His eyes closed for a moment before he walked slowly over to the large bed against the back wall, sinking down onto it heavily and running his hands over his face.

Not sure of what to make of this, she took a tentative step towards him. "Kakarotto?"

"I have given that very speech, those very same orders, to Bulma Brief so many times over the past thirteen years, I can scarcely keep track anymore," he admitted flatly, "and it still was not enough to save her."

Unable to find her voice, Bulma gaped in undisguised astonishment instead. She had expected him to be infuriated with her once again, so she had been no more prepared for this than she would have been if Cell had suddenly materialized in front of her face and challenged her in hand-to-hand combat.

He continued speaking as his eyes glazed over in remembrance. "She would not let me go with her. She said that my place was here with our son. I should never have left her alone. My place was with her, and if I had been there, she might still be alive."

Bulma finally regained her wits and made her way to the bed. When she was directly in front of the slumping figure, she kneeled down so that she was eye to eye with him. "You're wrong. If you had been there, Isaka would have lost both his parents," she argued vehemently. "She probably considered what the risks were more than you realize, and she wanted to make sure that Isaka wouldn't be orphaned if something happened. I mean... I would have done the same thing if it had been me."

Kakarotto raised an eyebrow. "I have no doubt of that," he remarked dryly. "But her sacrifice will do little good if I am not capable of defeating Frieza when he arrives. He plans to destroy us all, and despite what I have told Isaka and Laresk, I suspect I am ill-equipped to stop him."

"Actually, you can beat him," Bulma replied confidently, "if you're willing to listen to a weak, arrogant, pig-headed woman like me."

Kakarotto drew in a deep breath before sitting up straight, his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on top of battle-hardened hands that had threaded themselves together to form a semi-flat perch. The pain and anger he had surrounded himself with for so long was slowly melting away in the woman's distinctive presence, and he mentally shrugged at its passing... for the moment. It would be much easier to keep his mind clear and focused on the task at hand. "Tell me what you know."

In a smaller room down the hall, Isaka could feel the subtle changes within the stormy soul of his father even as he slept, and the smooth, childlike mouth curved into an unconscious, imperceptible smile.

End Chapter Ten