Chapter Twelve

Bulma let out a yelp of surprise as her clothes were literally torn from her body and scattered carelessly around her. Kakarotto's own bodysuit fared no better, and she wondered for a split second what she'd managed to get herself into. As though reading her thoughts, Kakarotto once again pressed his body against hers, making her gasp at the sheer heat of skin on skin.

"They were in the way," he hissed in her ear.

She couldn't argue the point; had she known it would feel so good, she'd have probably done the same thing.

In total contrast to the hasty disrobing, his mouth and hands both worked over her with such painstaking care she was sure it was a perfected form of torture in the alternate timeline. His lips traced the graceful curve of her neck and teased the hollow above her collarbone. One of his arms wrapped around her waist and held her firmly while his free hand slid down the length of her body and back again in a measured stroke. He raked his fingernails lightly against her hipbone and tickled her side before tracing the delicate outside curve of her right breast. His fingers spiraled around lazily around it as his mouth made its way to the other one. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, he took one ripe mound into his mouth while he massaged the other within his hand.

Bulma gasped and writhed under the combined attentions, and groaned even louder as a purr erupted from his throat. The vibration assaulted her nipple and added to the already erotic suckles and nips from his teeth and tongue. He continued on until she was sure she would implode, then moved his mouth to the other one while his hand slid under her bottom, lifting her up so that his erection rubbed against the sensitive flesh between her thighs. She cried out in impatient pleasure; his manhood moved like silken steel against her hardened nub, sending wave after wave of liquid fire through her belly. Every inch of her skin tingled, every muscle tensed in anticipation, and she held her breath. Surely soon...surely now he would end her suffering and slide into her, filling her with his body and spirit...

With a show of self-control which surprised even him, he ignored the painful throb emanating from his groin and continued his oral exploration. His tongue memorized the salty taste of her skin as it ran down the slope of her stomach; his lips worshiped the crease of her hip; his teeth nibbled on the tender flesh along her inner thigh. Without warning, he shifted slightly and hooked her legs over his shoulders. He felt her shudder as he took in a deep breath, immersing himself in the raw scent of her deepest desire.

She screamed and wove both hands in his ebony spikes as his mouth descended upon her womanhood, his tongue lapping and stroking roughly. Her back arched and her eyes rolled as he continued, back and forth, in and out and in again until the individual movements all blended into one chaotic sensation which drove her toward a level of pleasure she was sure would drive her to madness if it continued.

He smiled despite himself as he held the human woman just at the brink; she wailed, she squealed, and she cried out several words even he didn't use very often. He didn't think he'd be able to hold off much longer either-it had been a very long time for him as well, he reminded himself-so he redoubled his efforts to give her what she wanted so desperately. With one final scream, she bent like a bow being strung as he felt her climax quake through her entire body.

Once the erratic spasms subsided enough for Bulma to regain use of her limbs, rubbery as they were, Kakarotto slid upward until they were face to face again. He crushed his mouth to hers in another feverish kiss as he positioned his manhood against her. She didn't have time to pull away to beg for a few more minutes to recover before he thrust into her. Legs she would have sworn hadn't the energy to bend, let alone lift entirely, wrapped instinctively around his waist, increasing both his leverage and depth. She wound her arms around each of his shoulders and clawed him, her fingernails mercilessly tearing at his back. Unlike Vegeta, who had often bitched about the habit by saying he could never live down the embarrassment of allowing a mere human onna to scar him, Kakarotto's throaty growl-purr intensified ten-fold.

Indeed, the pain of her nails cutting his skin and the immense pleasure building with every rock of his hips, combined with the smell of her first orgasm and his blood in the air, nearly made the brawny Saiyajin forget she was only human. Had he closed his eyes even once, he was sure he would tear the otherwise delicate woman apart without realizing what he was doing. Knowing it to be true and therefore holding back his natural strength with every ounce of concentration he possessed, he kept his eyes focused on her face. It was both a blessing and a curse; she was truly beautiful, sexier than he remembered either Bulma to be. Her normal creamy complexion was flushed to vibrant rose and shining with perspiration, her eyelids fluttered as though she had little control over them, and her mouth stayed slack as she gasped, whined, moaned, and cried out his name.

My name, not Goku's. Mine...

Bulma screamed and thrashed once again as her second orgasm hit. The feel of every one of her muscles inside and out clamping onto him sent him over the edge. With a roar, he spent himself within her heat. He buried his face in the crook of her neck while his body jerked roughly in the aftermath of his own glorious climax. Then, finally, his superhuman strength failed, and he collapsed, moving aside just enough to avoid trapping her beneath his full weight. She didn't seem to notice; she rolled onto her side, fitting herself against him with a sleepy smile on her swollen lips. Then, just as suddenly as she'd moved to him, she lifted her head and leveled an unfocused gaze on him.

"Damn, I forgot, I better take a shower first, huh?"

His eyebrows rose slightly, as it was the only movement he could manage to express his confusion and annoyance. "Is it necessary? Or possible, for that matter."

She grinned and laid back down. "Probably not, to tell you the truth," she murmured, her words distorted by a simultaneous yawn. "But I know Saiyajins are really sensitive to smell..."

"Very," he confirmed, his mind too sluggish to elaborate further.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go ta-"

He readjusted just enough to face her, one arm grabbing her around the waist while the other moved into her hair. "No, I do not want you to leave," he softly answered the unfinished question.

At the same time, a very small, ever vigilant place within his consciousness, the one which had delighted in hearing his name rather than that of his alter ego in her timeline, burst through the fog surrounding his brain with another startling and badly-timed realization. Unlike the other one though, this one made him feel as though gravity had increased very suddenly in his gut.

He didn't want her to go. He didn't want her to leave his bedroom; he didn't want her to leave his side. In truth, he didn't want her to go anywhere, period.

Once Goku and Bulma emerged from King Kai's house, they tracked him down and recounted what they'd discovered.

"So that's what happened!" the portly god exclaimed once they finished.

"Yep, looks that way," Goku replied. "So now all I need to know is how to get there."

King Kai shrugged. "You can probably contact her telepathically from Grand Kai's place," he said after a minute's thought. "Then all you have to do is tell her to do the same thing she did before..."

"No, I mean I need to know how to actually get there," Goku repeated. "Frieza's on his way in the other time, and unless I can train the other me to become a Super Saiyajin and control it, they won't stand much of a chance."

King Kai's forehead bunched over the rim of his sunglasses. He remained silent for several long moments before speaking again.

"Sorry, Goku, no can do."

"Huh?"

"You can't just zip around screwing with the fate of a different timeline, Goku," King Kai explained, though his voice betrayed his own wish it wasn't so. "You don't know what kind of effect you may have on it. For all we know, you could make things worse!"

Bulma, who had listened avidly to that point, spoke up. "There is nothing worse than Frieza."

King Kai sighed. "Yeah, there was a time when I thought so too, but we all found out the hard way there are beings stronger than him. Goku died because of one of them."

The point seemed to steal some of the determination from the lovely scientist's face, though Goku seemed totally unperturbed.

"That's true, but the only reason everyone else is safe now is because of Trunks coming from his timeline to help us in mine," he pointed out. "Besides, I was gonna die from that heart virus anyway, but thanks to Trunks, no one else had to. Seems like a major improvement to me."

He grinned brightly at the gaping Kai. "So how do I get there?"

King Kai opened and closed his mouth like a fish several times before he made any sound. "You...you just can't, Goku! And it's not just the timeline thing. You're dead, remember?"

"So?"

"So you can't just come and go whenever you want!"

"I know that, but there's gotta be something somewhere that makes an exception when it's an emergency, right?" Goku pleaded, complete with puppy-dog eyes and pouty lips.

The diety was already shaking his squat head. "Nope."

Bulma clenched her jaw for a moment. Then with a deep breath, she stood, walked around the table they were sitting at until she was at the side of King Kai's chair, and dropped to her knees. "Please...there has to be something we can do," she begged below a curtain of blue hair which fell over her eyes as she bowed her head. "I can not just sit and watch as my world is destroyed. If we do nothing...my mate and my son...all of my friends and colleagues...they will all die..."

It seemed the sight of a helpless and needy woman was more persuasive, and King Kai cleared his throat for a moment. "Well...okay, maybe there's something we can try"-he waved his hands in front of him when Bulma jerked forward-"but I can't promise anything! And you two won't be able to go."

"I understand," she answered breathlessly. "I will do whatever I must to save my family."

Goku, on the other hand, looked confused. "But if I can't go either, who's gonna train Kakarotto and his son?"

"There is no need for Isaka to fight," Bulma cut in as though it was obvious.

Goku blinked a few times. "Actually, it's best to have more than one person doing everything. I mean, it's not like Frieza's gonna be alone, and his men are nothing to sneeze at. Even I had a lot of help when I fought him. If it'd been just me, there's no way I could've done it."

"So my mate will pick people to be trained with him," she shot back angrily. "I will not have my son face that type of danger. He would never survive!"

"Actually," King Kai cut in, casting a nervous glance at the irate woman, "I agree with Goku on this one. If you really want to get rid of Frieza and his men, the best way to go would be letting any Saiyajin there is do the fighting."

"But-"

"Look, I understand why you're worried," the god interjected, "but I don't think you're giving your son enough credit. Goku's boy ended up being stronger than his dad after the same training, and that's a kid that spent the majority of his life with a nose crammed in a book because his mother didn't want him to train at all. Gohan's a powerhouse when he's backed into a wall, don't get me wrong, but I'm betting your son-he's ten, right?-is stronger than Gohan was at the same age."

"Fine," she conceded furiously, "but on one condition. He may choose for himself whether or not to take part in the battle."

"Of course," King Kai agreed.

"Then it's in the bag," Goku added with a broad grin.

Bulma once again glared at him. "What do you mean, `in the bag'?"

"Well...he comes from you and me, right? How could he be anything but a born fighter?"

Bulma's heart sank; Goku made an excellent point, much closer to the truth than he probably realized. She closed her eyes and tried to force back the gnawing fear welling up within her when she imagined her son in such a battle. "Then the only other thing I want to know is who will be training Kakarotto and Isaka, if not Goku."

"Well, there's only one option, isn't there?" King Kai answered as he looked to Goku, who nodded.

Bulma's sapphire eyes moved from one to the other, then became wide as saucer. "You...you mean...absolutely not!"

"Look, I know you have a problem with Vegeta, but-"

Goku shut up when Bulma rounded on him. "Kakarotto may do as he sees fit, but there is no way in hell I will allow my son to be taught anything by that...that..."

King Kai stood and made a move to calm the raging genius. "But Bulma, you're the one..."

"Actually, it's okay," Goku stated suddenly, his face alight as though he'd just had the best idea in the world. "Isaka can train with someone else. Actually, it might work out better this way!"

Both King Kai and Bulma froze rather comically and surveyed Goku. Then King Kai's mouth formed a round `O', and his head bobbed in agreement. "Yes, yes! You're right! He would be better!"

"Who? I thought there wasn't anyone else," Bulma inquired blankly.

King Kai acted as though he hadn't heard her. "Yes...yes!" he continued to mutter excitedly. Then, quite suddenly, his face fell slightly. "Um, Goku? You know she'll never agree to this."

"Don't worry about that," Goku assured him, his grin broadening. "I'll just to tell her until after he's here. I mean, it's not like she can kill me again, right?"

"What in all the hells are you two talking about?" Bulma demanded, furious to be excluded from something involving her son. "If this person is anything like the Saiyajin no Ouji, you can forget it."

"No, no, there's nobody else around like Vegeta," Goku commented with a chuckle. "Well, maybe Piccolo, but that's another story. No, I was thinking about getting my son, Gohan, to work with Isaka."

"Do you think he can handle it?" King Kai asked with a frown.

"No problem, just leave it to me," Goku answered with a thumbs-up and a wink.

"Well, I suppose that would be all right then," Bulma conceded after a minute.

Goku clapped his hands together and sprung to his feet, almost upsetting the table in the process. With an apologetic laugh, he put his hand to his forehead. "Okay, I'll get Vegeta and Gohan and bring them back here."

"Wait!" Bulma cried, also getting to her feet. "I want to come with you."

King Kai yelled, "Absolutely not!" just as Goku shrugged and said, "Sure thing." Bulma chose the answer she wanted and moved beside Goku amid a flurry of protest from the other.

Goku took her hand, gave her a nod, and said, "Hang on."

The last thing she heard was a string of curses stream from King Kai's mouth about stupid Saiyajins and stubborn women. Then her vision was filled with every color of the spectrum as they passed through something she could only liken to a funnel. Just as suddenly as it began, they were on solid ground once more. She blinked several times to adjust to the dimness; apparently it was just after sunset as far as she could tell. Goku seemed to be concentrating for a moment, then smiled.

"Wow, we lucked out! Gohan's the only one home."

He made his way toward the small cottage, and she followed, all the while surveying the area with a critical eye. In her world, no place still held the feeling of natural beauty and peace this home of Goku's held. There were no places where lush, healthy trees went on as far as the eye could see, nor was there thick carpets of grass or flowers that hadn't been planted by man. By contrast, the entire area surrounding Goku's house felt untouched by the evils of the universe, and she immediately knew why he'd chosen to live in such a place rather than a city.

They walked through the front door, Bulma more hesitantly than Goku, realizing for the first time his son might not know what to make of it if his dead father suddenly showed up. Goku, on the other hand, seemed not to think about it, or he didn't care.

Goku could feel Gohan was in his room, so he did what he would've done anytime he came home to announce his presence.

"Hey, Gohan, I'm home!"

He heard a cry of surprise, followed by one loud crash and several dull thuds. The boy must've had piles of books on his desk, Goku was sure. He smiled to himself as he heard his son tear out of his room and run down the hall.

"Dad! Dad, I knew it! I knew you'd come back!"

Bulma watched, a strange sensation similar to longing building within her, as she watched the boy pounce on Goku, wrapping his arms tightly around the man's torso. The first thing that struck her was how little he looked like his father. Unlike Isaka, this son was taller, and his hair seemed to obey gravity to some extent, though his bangs appeared to be the lone rebel, the telltale ebony spikes sticking every-which-way. He definitely had his father's smiling eyes though, and his physique was lean but looked well definted and powerful, even underneath the white button-up which seemed at least a size too big.

She stopped staring with a start when she realized Gohan was peering around his father at her. The look on his face became even more delighted. "Bulma-san! You're back too!"

It took her a second to remember he knew a version of herself and had obviously confused them. Before she could correct him, he let go of Goku and enfolded her in a similar hug which nearly cracked her ribs.

"I knew Dad would find you," he babbled happily. "Mom thought it was hopeless, but I knew he wouldn't let us down, especially not when it's you. I'm really glad you're home, Bulma-san..."

"I...I'm sorry, but..." she began, throwing Goku a helpless look.

"What? What's wrong? You are okay, aren't you?" he asked, pulling away from her and looking up at her. His eyes met hers, and in a flash, those wide eyes narrowed slightly. She watched in amazement as the happy-go-lucky persona fell away from the young man and was replaced by a scrutinizing gaze which made her breath catch in her throat. No, he didn't look like Goku at the moment, his eyes were identical to Kakarotto's.

"You're not our Bulma-san, are you?" he questioned after a lengthy pause, his face showing his disappointment. Despite the fact she'd never met the child before, seeing such a look on his face made her feel guilty. Still, she could not deny his words, so she nodded. His young brow furrowed, then, "So...you're the other one?"

Her mouth dropped open and, once again, she looked to Goku, this time for an explanation. He looked just as confused as her.

"Vegeta-san told me when he came back," Gohan explained before either had a chance to answer. "He said you dropped into King Kai's because you needed Dad to help you save your timeline. And he said that's where our Bulma-san is right now."

Again, she nodded, though this time it was because she didn't trust her voice when he sounded so...old...so much like her own son.

"So I guess that means," he muttered, turning to Goku, "you're still dead, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm afraid so," Goku replied.

Gohan seemed to think the whole situation over for a minute. Then, to Bulma's utter amazement, he looked up and smiled at his father once more. "Well, either way, I'm really happy to see you again, Dad."

"Me too." Goku gave his son another hug, then let him go, though he kept his eyes firmly on his son's face. "Listen, the reason I'm here is because I need you to do me a really, really big favor."

"Anything," Gohan answered without hesitation.

"Hold on, son," Goku said with a tender smile, "hear me out first because this won't be easy. For one thing, you'll be gone for several days-"

Again, there was no pause. "Okay."

"-and you're gonna have to travel to the other timeline, where Bulma is now, with Vegeta-"

"Okay."

"-Vegeta's gonna be training the version of me in that time, so I'll need you to keep an eye on him so he doesn't go too far now that he'll have a chance to actually beat me-"

A laugh. "No problem, Dad."

"-and most important of all, I'm gonna need you to train Kakarotto and this Bulma's son, Isaka, so he can be as strong as you are now."

This time silence was the only sound which met his request. Gohan's eyes were back to their normal size and then some until they were like saucers. Then he shifted his weight from one foot to another and swallowed hard. "You...you mean, in her timeline..."

"Yeah, Bulma and Kakarotto got together in that timeline."

"Wow," Gohan breathed. "Vegeta didn't tell me that part."

It was strange to Bulma; the boy looked contemplative rather than shocked or upset by the news. As the silence continued, she decided now was as good a time as any to speak up. "I...I am sorry, Gohan-san," she offered hesitantly, unnerved further when the boy turned his attention directly to her. "Forgive me for not correcting your assumption about my identity when we first met. I have no real excuse, aside from the fact I was taken aback by your...enthusiastic greeting." She finished with a bow. When she lifted herself back to full height, the boy's eyebrows were almost to his hairline.

"You really are from a different time," he said. "I don't think Bulma-san even knows how to talk so formally." Then his face lit up. "Hey, does my dad talk like that where you're from?"

"As a matter of fact, he does."

Gohan laughed and turned to Goku, who was smiling sheepishly. "So I'm gonna get to meet him? Cool!"

"Isn't it, though?" Goku stated. "I wish I could go too..."

"Why can't you?"

Goku shrugged. "I dunno...King Kai just said I can't go."

"Is it cause you're dead here and alive there?" Gohan asked his father.

It was Bulma who answered. "I do not understand why that would make a difference. Vegeta no Ouji is dead in my time and alive in yours, and he will be going with you,"she pointed out.

"Well...maybe it's because they don't want you to go since the other you'll be there too," Gohan offered. "Help avoid anything funny happening if anyone were to see you and stuff."

Bulma's face betrayed the fact she was impressed with his deduction. "That makes sense. If Goku appeared and someone mistook him for Kakarotto, the effects could be catastrophic, and of course, since I've only been dead for a year, my reappearance would likely cause mass hysteria."

For the first time since meeting Gohan, she felt comfortable knowing it would be he who would train her son. As a matter of fact, they would probably get along quite well, she mused with a small smile of her own.

With her mind at ease, she was ready to get on with things. "Where do we go now, Goku? Do we need to teleport to where the Saiyajin Prince lives?"

"Nope."

"Is he coming here then?"

Gohan closed his eyes for less than a second, then turned toward the window and pointed. "Yeah, there he is now!" Sure enough, there was a bright blue light streaking directly at them.

"So what do ya say? Ready to go?" Goku asked his son.

"Ready when you are, Dad," the boy replied. Then he gasped. "Wait! Lemme write Mom a note real quick so she won't worry too much!" He dashed out of the room and down the hall.

Goku looked relieved. "Awesome, now I don't have to tell her!"

End Chapter Twelve