Glistening in through the window and past the drawn curtains drift the first rays of sunshine, illuminating the faint specks of dust floating past its beam. After travelling through space the rays fall gently onto the two heads sharing one pillow. Lighting up the sparse room with the dim light of the early morning sun the change in luminous flux diffuses through the heavy eyelids of Yamcha. Trying to flee back from the light and into the murk of the room in his scarcely semi-conscious state, he burrows his head into the sea of pink hair in front of him. Snuggling back down into the velvety locks, sleep burrows its claws back into his mind dragging him back down to the depths of slumber.
Woken up in the same fashion of so many men before him, Yamcha awakens with his air supply blocked off by the hair of his lover. Coughing and spluttering to clear his throat of the asphyxiating strands he sits up massaging his temples, his hand sliding down as he rubs the last remnants of sleep away. Flicking his own unruly mane out of his eyes and embracing the dawn he turns to get out of bed and …
" Morning Yamcha." The high pitched voice of Puar startles him as the blue fuzz ball hefts up a circular device nearly larger than itself. Slamming his paw down on the single button the black screen of the radar bursts into life, lights blinking and beeping urgently.
" Morning Puar, you know what this means don't ya? Next time you want to show me something though can you wait outside, all that beeping's going to-"
" Going to wake me up? You are so kind and considerate aren't you, but I've been awake for a while now. Don't eat my hair please." Yamcha looks behind him to see Washu stirring and rolling over to face him and the hovering blue mammal, her yawning and unfocused eyes tell a different story from what she says though. Smiling, he strokes her cheek then carefully throws the covers off of himself so that none of Washu's modesty is hazarded.
" It's 'bout time, 27 days and we can go and get him back now. Better tell the others, I'm sure this will brighten up their day." Rolling his shoulders as he stands and cricks his neck. As Yamcha leaves the room dressed and ready he grins and winks at Washu. With him out of sight she sets about picking up the many articles of her clothing strewn about the room, same as she has done for over two weeks now.
The first stop is the room closest to his, the closed door leading to where a certain space pirate has holed herself up in. Neither hide nor hair has been seen of her for many days and any attempt to open her door has been greeted by a ruckus of angry shouts and threats. This time though being a bearer of good news he taps gently on the hard wood of the door, bracing himself for a slurry of insults and foul language. Instead the ominous silence he thought she had moved on from returns in full force. Sliding open the door just a crack Yamcha is nearly knocked out.
A faint whiff of the fumes released from Ryoko's room is enough to make the corridor start to spin. Channelling ki through his body as protection from the toxic miasma she has created, he enters through the great stench of alcohol. Empty and discarded bottles clink together as he tries to force the door so it is fully open, maybe one per cent of her floor can be seen through the wasteland of cans, flagons and flasks – not one of them containing a single drip of booze any-more The pungent reek of her binge drinking completely masks that of her perspiration, being still worn out from the workout she has finished but seconds ago – the secret ones they still are in the dark about.
Hovering over the field of detritus and litter, he goes over to where she is sat, his eyes starting to sting from the alcoholic atmosphere. Not facing him, sitting with her knees on her chest and head hung low, she ignores this intrusion into her self inflicted seclusion. Landing beside her in a small spot clear of all obstacles he waits for her to acknowledge his presence She just sits there, her fringe hiding her face and soft, shallow breaths breaking the silence. Looking around, Yamcha flings open the curtains though not brightening the room as apparently Ryoko did not turn off her lights last night. Kneeling down by her he gently taps the dragon radar against one of her hands.
" Hi Ryoko. I think you'll want to see this… .Do you more good then drinking yourself into oblivion." The offhand insult catches her attention, glaring menacingly from under her hair she snatches the machine from his hand. Fumbling clumsily as she hurries to activate the locating device, her trembling fingers tripping over themselves with anticipation now she sees what he has brought to her – he has given to her an end to this nightmare. Dreading her hopes being dashed, she hesitates in pressing the single button. It would be too cruel for this ray of happiness to be slapped away from her, she could not bear the pain of this emptiness again.
" The Dragonballs aren't inert any-more Ryoko."
Beep, beep, beep. Seven yellow dots scattered far and wide are shown on the invention of Bulma's. Seven separate things that when brought together would grant her only and greatest heart's desire. She does not hear the door close behind him as he leaves her, nothing could distract her from what the pixels on the screen she holds in front of her face represent. Salty tears trickle down her face and drip onto the device, obscuring and distorting the basic images shown on it. The dams holding back her long since dried up reservoirs of tears crack and spew out the secret reserves for these feelings of ecstasy. Enraptured with joy a large stupid smile grows across her face, the first one to appear in too long, and hugs this bringer of hope tightly to her chest that feels as if it will explode.
Next on Yamcha's agenda is Ayeka, from what Sasami has told her about her sister's unusual and introverted behaviour this ought to bring her back to her old self. Rapping his knuckles as he slides open the door he is so thankful that she has not taken to drink like her rival. Sasami must have entered whilst he was telling Ryoko and as the kind and considerate younger sibling she has brought breakfast on a tray for Ayeka. Sat up in her bed having unquestionably just arisen from being asleep, Ayeka's glazed eyes drift over that of her sister and this strange man she has hardly seen and settle on the food set upon her lap – a simple round of buttered toast and a boiled egg. She does not even question a man entering her chambers.
The bright pink eyes of the younger girl look up at Yamcha from her sister's side, her infectious smile and kind heart lighten this bleak bedroom. The one with a scarred face walks up to her and ruffles her hair affectionately as he turns his attention to the older princess.
" Um Miss Ayeka, can you hear me? …" Yamcha's question goes unanswered as Ayeka continues to stare blankly at the air in-between her and the plate with her breakfast. "… Well it's time to go get your prince back, the dragon radar shows that we can revive him now. Ain't that some good news." He departs from the room having said his piece. Overjoyed by this prospect, Sasami is as giddy as a little schoolgirl smiling gaily up at her big sister. A slight trace of a smile births itself across Ayeka's face as she blinks her eyes into focus. Now with her will to go on restored she looks down at her little sister and embraces her in a warm hug.
Heading downstairs Yamcha finds waiting for him at the bottom one person who already knows, the only person here who has a true claim to living in this house. Trunks is wearing the Saiyan raiment like his father does and which he had on during that fateful visit to that unknown planet which cost this lad dearly. Both warriors nod at each other, understanding what they now have to do – a simple chore that also reaps great rewards. Impatiently waiting for a dragon radar so that they can initiate their mission, the two warm up their bodies and muscles with some simple stretches to pass the time. The rising agitation of Trunks during this delay is clearly visible, children are never the best at waiting and under these circumstances it is anyone's guess what he might do.
Time ticks by agonisingly slowly in its never ending march onwards, a quarter of an hour passes and still there is no sign of the additional dragon radars. The thin threads of patience tying Trunks to rational behaviour have been all but severed, frayed to their limits by this pointless lingering and loitering. Fidgeting on the spot restlessly, fingers drumming against folded arms, teeth grinding and feet tapping urgently on the weathered floorboards, Trunks' vexation rises. Second by second the fact that an uncontrollable Saiyan might swiftly become a reality looms over Yamcha.
Saved from this by Washu as she leaves her laboratory carrying with her 3 of the spare radars she made all those days ago he thanks his lucky stars. 2 are in her hands by the time she has taken a few steps into the hallway, unperturbed by Trunks snatching one at the supersonic speeds he is capable of, she continues towards Yamcha as she hands him the penultimate device. With this piece of technology in his grasp he turns to set off on his quest to see that the brash youth is already outside ready to take off into the bright blue yonder.
" Trunks, just wait there a sec. C'mon it'd be better if we did this as a group, besides you can't carry all seven on your own."
" Yeah, yeah I hear you and guess what? I don't care, so smell you guys later I'm off to bring back my dad on my own." Jetting into the sky, the boy begins to voyage across the globe leaving just a vapour trail dissipating into the air behind him.
" Well he definitely is his father's son that's for damn sure, s'pose there's no need for this any-more…. Hi again Ryoko and Ayeka" Returning the gadget to its creator, his hands linger on hers till he spots the three other residents coming down the stairs. Plain to see what kept them so long, no matter how quick they try and hurry, prettying themselves up as they have done still takes some time. Bar Sasami the two women have gone to particular effort over their appearance, wanting to appear their best before this miraculous return of Vegeta.
Ayeka, who for so long has not cared about such petty and vain things as the way she looks, has transformed herself back into the glistening jewel of Jurai. The shine and volume returned to her sleek and glossy hair, its vibrant colour reawakened and concealing the royal headdress she has retaken to adorning her forehead with. Life and colour back in her face complemented with some light make-up but nothing as ravishing as the lavishly ornate gown made of the finest materials decorating her slim figure. Delicate hand-spun satin conjoining the elbows of the flowing sleeves to the elaborate bodice of many colours in a cape of pure white. Broaches of the highest quality gold fashioned in the shapes of the leaves of Juraian trees affix vivid reds and greens encircling the navy blue collar and skirt. Lilac spaulders and a sea blue sash complete this most regal of outfits.
Ryoko as always has taken a different approach to things compared to the prim and proper blue blood. A very dark turquoise and also very short long sleeved dress lined with a hem of pink. A sharp and shockingly coloured bright green bow tie and a charcoal girdle is all that ties together the front of her dress. Unashamedly she walks around showing off a fair bit of her cleavage and her lithe, comely legs covered only by the front of the skirt and tailcoat with her own tail peeping out from underneath. Gracing the face of the tomboy for the first time are subtle hints at attempts of using make-up, cosmetics she has 'borrowed' from Ayeka without her permission or knowledge. Sweeping eyelashes defined and emphasised with mascara, feline eyes outlined and highlighted and her lips rouged.
Padding towards the desert raider is Sasami in her usual garb of natural blues and greens. Yamcha has smartly kept his eyes away from the procession of women down the stairs and instead continues to look at the only woman in the room his usually nomadic eyes find true beauty in. The first thing he knows of the juvenile moving towards him is the soft tug at his yellow jeans, he looks down at the small girl focusing her wide, pink eyes on his face.
" OK Mister, it's about time you stopped avoiding me and answered my question."
" Huh? What question Sasami, and don't think I've been avoiding you it's just that I've been … preoccupied." The puzzled expression on Yamcha's face isn't fooling anybody, somehow acting skills are not something he has picked up on his travels across the globe so even a nine year old girl can see through his lies.
" Well that doesn't matter, you're here now so … when are you and Washu gonna get married?" Her cheery smile once again freezing the very soul of Yamcha and making his flesh crawl. Keeping his hands in Washu's turns into a grave mistake, all routes of escape are gone as he feels her dainty fingers grip his like a vice.
If Sasami was trying to finish this Z-warrior off good and proper she is succeeding with flying colours, nervous sweat drips down his face drained of colour. Ayeka's eyes open wide in surprise at this news for in her seclusion the forming of this couple has passed her by, Ryoko knows from her training sessions as she heard their coupling. Washu is enjoying this way too much for him to be comfortable, clasping his sweaty palms tighter as she leans in with a coy blush on her face.
" Oh Yamcha I had no idea you felt that way about me, it's all so sudden. Well, give a girl an answer then." Dread knits itself into his bones, a cold shiver running up and down his spine. He tries to take a step back but her hold on him prevents him from doing so unless he unleashes his strength and probably break her arms in the process, that is probably one of the few things he could do to severely worsen the position he is currently in.
" N-now w-what uh you, well, it's you see umm... I-I haven't even proposed yet and -"
" Yet? So you were actually planning to then? My, you are full of secrets aren't you." He walked straight into that one. The universe's most intelligent woman was not going to let that slip of the tongue escape her and the pressure on him now to try and think of a good, or at least adequate, response that will not dig the hole he is standing in any deeper is crushing down on his brain. The radar in his hand beeps.
" Hey would ya look at that Trunks has all the dragonballs and is on his way back." Getting himself clean out of the frying pan and dodging the fire he has shifted all attention off of him onto the more pressing matters that they have gathered for. Yamcha knows this will come back to bite him later and once Washu sets her sights on something she will not drop it, he will have to prepare for this before it takes him by surprise again. Although all four females are looking out of the front door at where they expect the second child of Saiyan and human coupling to land his hands are still kept in his lover's clutches.
Right on cue Trunks touches down on the turf with seven hand-sized crystalline gemstones of a fiery colouration dropping down onto the grass still wet with the morning's dew. Bouncing off of the soft loam and coming to rest in a neat cluster at the kid's feet the life within the dragonballs begins to awaken. Twinkling from the epicentre of each mystical orb, a pinprick of light bursts forth illuminating the objects created by Dende. Pulsating in synch, the septet awaits for one to conjure forth the beast held within. Stood before these glowing spheres Trunks stands without a clue what to do now, he has never seen Shenron or been around when a wish has been granted. Infuriated by his own confusion and inability to rescue his own father from Abaddon, the boy wracks his mind over every tale he has been told concerning the immemorial dragon called Shenron.
Wriggling forth out of Washu's hands, Yamcha leads the group outside into the fresh air, walking briskly to retain his freedom. He puts one of his weathered hands on the shoulder of the hybrid son.
" It's OK, I got this. Eternal dragon by your name I summon you forth, Shenron!" As soon as the command is uttered from Yamcha the throbbing incandescence of the magical globes hastens. All light is blotted out from the Sun as blackness envelops the sky, a horizon of darkness lit up by the seven motes flashing at the lakeside. The rhythm of the shining dragonballs becomes a steady glow as bright orange sparks jet off from it. One massive lightning bolt of gold blasts off straight into the heavens tearing the all encompassing unnatural night asunder in a blaze of brilliance. The yellow fulmination continues to jet out of the seven gathered items, taking up more and more of the sky as it reaches the higher altitudes of the troposphere. At its zenith four prongs jut out of its side and the head of the mass of energy culminates into a large horned snout.
The radiant luminescence dies down as the thing taking up the heavens takes on form, a massive serpentine bulk of green scales and a thick, cream hide on its underbelly. Miles of ridges running along its great expansive river-like back, the antlers of an enormous stag and whiskers of an equally monstrously large catfish spring into existence on the rapidly solidifying being of Shenron. Large jaws full of serrated pearly whites loom down at the one who dares to conjure it from its interrupted slumber. Red eyes centre on the six humanoids and the two tasty morsels hissing insistently at the god-like reptile, Ryo-Ohki is definitely not pleased with this large, terrifying creature as it raises its hackles.
" Speak your wish and it shall be granted." A voice as deep as the roots of a mountain thunder out this same line it has said countless times before. Mixtures of awe, fear and trepidation spread through the members of the fairer sex seeing this colossal lizard gazing down at them as if they were a bunch of meagre insects scurrying around at its feet. Washu seems more interested though not in the dragon but the dragonballs themselves, she sees Shenron merely as a physical manifestation of their weird power. One of the little people below the hovering dragon steps up towards it.
" Eternal dragon, we wish for our companion Vegeta the Prince of Saiyans to be brought back to life."
" The one called Vegeta has already been resurrected by me when he died on Namek, it is … was beyond my power to do so …. It appears my creator has been busy upgrading my powers during my sleep. Your wish has been granted." Optical orbs the size of small houses gleam a warm lambent ruby red as the magic happens. The colour from Shenron's eyes fades as once again its corporeal form transmutes into pure energy piercing the sky, taking with it the seven artefacts that are responsible for its existence. Surging into the air as lightning, the dragon coalesces into a far off speck of light nearly out of orbit as it scatters the dragonballs far and wide to random positions across the whole globe. Reverting back to the natural hue of blue the celestial sphere and Sun return to the vista above the lake. Tranquillity resumes, birds in the forests begin to take up their chorus again and the world goes back to the way it was.
Yamcha walks back towards the rest of the group with his job now done and pleased that Dende has finally got the Earth's dragon closer to the level of power as Porunga, the true Namekian dragon. He seems the only one happy though. The lack of Vegeta stood before them has sent the women frantically looking about to see where he is, their histrionics seem to be infecting Trunks as well. Yamcha should have explained how Shenron works before he did this and avoided this whole kerfuffle but no-one is perfect, least of all him.
" Shh, calm down. Look when someone is wished back they don't just magically appear next to us, they either come back to life where they died or where their souls currently are in the Other world. He has Instant Transmission so -"
A great waft of brimstone and sulphur enshrouds them all, for a brief instant the sounds of the infinite damned legions screech into the realm of the living. Ryoko and Ayeka search about for the source of these perceivable clues that the one they have been waiting for has been spat out of Hell, no matter where they look neither can pinpoint where Vegeta has come into being. That is until a faintly perceptible whistling sound can be heard getting louder and louder with each passing moment.
Plummeting like a stone, the wind rips at the blue training gear around the Saiyan. Roaring fills his ears as he accelerates towards the ground barely conscious. Just managing to turn himself whilst free-falling, the squinted eyes of Vegeta have trouble focusing on this very large object rapidly coming to greet him. In one side and out the other, the mammoth mountain does naught to slow down his arrival to Earth, crashing through the rock and veins of dense metals secreted in its depths he pops out covered in debris and detritus as he completes the final descent. Plunging into the waters before his house and emptying the lake of most of its contents in an almighty splash, Vegeta is back.
Gobsmacked by such a dramatic reinstatement to life, both Ryoko and Ayeka run up to the agitated water's edge peering into the murky depths of stirred up silt for a sign of their prince. A whoosh of disturbed air and a perfectly dry Vegeta is crouched on his hands and knees panting heavily, eyes wide and staring wildly at the tufts of grass between his fingers. Clenching the fists of his new body he tears a divot under each hand, dropping the sod as he slowly rises to his feet. Glancing about at the familiar surroundings and faces fixed on him his cold eyes settle on one individual. Still reeling from the agony and torture that was existence in the infernal plane, his mind grasps at the concept of being alive again and what must have occurred. Walking towards this one person, this sole reason he was able to keep his sanity in the fiery pits, the faces of the two women light up enraptured by his presence Getting closer to the two women he outstretches one of his Goliath arms.
" Is it honestly too much to ask for one of you to have raised your power level so I could accurately Instant Transmission? Thanks, thanks a lot for catching me. What, were you afraid I'd gone soft or something when dead or needed to be rammed through a mountain for my own well-being? … It's good to be back my son." His large arm hugs his child close to him, pulling the son he treasures more than anything into a constricting bear hug. Trunks does not complain or struggle in this embrace even though his ribs are on the verge of cracking, the gladness of having his father back with him numbs the lad to the pain. Releasing Trunks from his iron grip, Vegeta smiles warmly at his offspring and tussles his lavender hair before ending this brief reunion.
Somersaulting high and landing far away from the duo of women who tried to blindside him, Vegeta scowls. Ryoko flying low and skimming the ground and Ayeka sprinting as fast as is physically possible in her dress, both with eyes moist from tears of joy at seeing Vegeta back in the flesh and no longer just a haunting memory keeping them awake day and night. Screeching to a halt and turning to face Vegeta with a look of befuddlement at his avoidance of them they stand, or hover, perplexed. Slower this time they walk hesitantly towards him only to have a knife thrust in their open hearts. Ryoko's and Ayeka's movements cease as they stand stock still staring at a white gloved hand pointed palm first aggressively towards them.
" No." The knife tears deeper... " Stop, come no closer." … and twists, ripping them apart from the core in their most vulnerable state. " I have no need of your stupid behaviour, … leave me be. … You think after literally going through hell I'd honestly be in the mood for such fools as you." The euphoria of life anew has not had enough time to break through the calloused curtain of ice frozen around his heart and mind after a month of knowing nothing but the greatest pains devised non-stop. Remorseless he ignores them and the abject hurt he has caused them, unable to deal with them at this point in time. As if he has done nothing wrong he faces the last pair of people outside his house who are stood close to each other. Priding himself on his great mind and cunning it embarrassingly takes his brain ages for the cogs to start to turn and churn out an answer. The linked arms, her nuzzling close to him and being in adult form can only mean one thing.
" Some good news then, seems you're going to rid me of a bothersome guest. Still a few tricks left in the old dog then or did you fall victim to that whole nurse routine she does?" Raising an eyebrow curiously at this most unlikely of pairings, the owner of the household questions the beauty and the brains and Yamcha.
" Hey give me some credit Vegeta, and you're older than me so I don't know who you're calling an old dog. She has a lot more than just that nurse's costume too I can tell ya."
" I did not need to know that. … Anyway I'm off to train, so don't disturb me. A whole goddamn month wasted and I bet that clown Kakarot's overtaken me again." Striding off purposefully into his house to sate his hunger for training and self improvement, totally ignoring everyone who gathered for his resurrection, he goes back to doing what he does best. With the show over and nothing to entertain them, the kids and feline mammals swiftly follow the man of the house back indoors as if everything were normal and fine. A faint, heartbroken sigh escapes from the two women stood forlornly looking at the doorway which the Saiyan prince has just rounded and left their sight.
" Hey, Washu …, um, y'know that now Vegeta's back what happens now? I mean, I was only here 'cos he kicked the bucket and someone had to look out for Trunks but he's back now so … I s'pose I'll … I'll have to leave now." It pains him to say these words, he has truly enjoyed his time with Washu but Yamcha knows that everything has its time and everything must naturally come to an end. Looking nearly as distraught as the melancholy statues gazing sorrowfully at the threshold to the dwelling, Washu fixes her pleading eyes on this man who has become so much more than just a guinea pig to her.
" No! Don't leave me! Y-you don't have to go Yamcha, please."
" C'mon, don't say it like that. It's not like I want to. What'd you want me to do? I doubt Vegeta's gonna let me stay with the amount of people already living here."
" But… but you could move in with me and live in my lab - "
" You really think that'll work? I mean your lab is still technically in his house …" Trying to mull it over in his mind all his freewill flies away from him as Washu unleashes the tearful puppy eyes on him, just the sight of it and he knows he will have to do her will. " … But OK, I'll go and give it a shot and talk to him. See if we can settle this man to man."
Sauntering off casually into the house, Yamcha tries to waste some time until he has to talk to Vegeta after seeing the kind of mood he is in when he spoke to the two women he is currently walking past. Washu sees what he is doing and cannot blame him, she has him wrapped around her little finger but he still has a sense of self preservation. Smiling in her confidence that her man will sort things out, she inspects the two stationary women who have not moved for some time now. The extremely scientific test of waving her hand in front of their faces concludes her experiment and proves her initial hypothesis that neither are paying any attention to external stimuli and have completely retreated within themselves leaving just empty, broken shells. Shrugging nonchalantly, Washu takes a leaf out of Vegeta's book and leaves them to their own devices. She has got more important things to worry about than those two such as completing tests on those few minuscule samples of Grah scraped off of the armour she manufactured, a few cells is all that Washu has to work on but the analysis is taking a lot longer than expected.
Observing Vegeta through the porthole in the thick metal door leading to the training room for a good long while, Yamcha musters his courage and calms his beating heart as he attempts the impossible and slides open the door. His boots thud heavily into the tiles, crossing into the training room puts him into the artificial gravity well of the main console and his body weight jumps up to 500 times its natural level. Lumbering the few metres over to the prince of Saiyans practising the pinnacle of martial arts, Yamcha waits for Vegeta to pay attention to him or for the endorphins of exercise to make his task easier. Flowing like water, Vegeta's movements are completely unhindered as he ignores the desert warrior and Yamcha strains himself just trying to stay stood up. Clearing his throat several times yields no results for Yamcha so he decides on a drastic course of action.
Catching the fist flying towards the back of his head before ducking, pivoting and diving under the legs of Yamcha to flip him hard onto his back, Vegeta finally acknowledges the other in this room.
" You still here? Thought you were going to take Washu and fly out of here so what's with this lousy attempt at striking me." Offering his hand to help up Yamcha, Vegeta grins maliciously as he crushes the fingers of Yamcha with his tightening grip. In one fell swoop he flings Yamcha across the room and into the wall.
" Yeah well, I came to talk to you about just that. Y'see she kinda asked me to move in with her." Getting back up onto his feet he glances at the cold pieces of flint that are Vegeta's eyes.
" I wasn't aware that Washu owned any property on this planet or any other. I thought she just had that damn dimension thing, … oh no, you've got some balls to come in here and ask that of me. Well tell her she can move her laboratory over to a doorway wherever you live, end of." Hefty blows strike Yamcha in the stomach and chest just too quick for him to do anything about it but grin and bear it. Dropping to his knees as the onslaught finishes, Yamcha does not give up.
" She can do that? Always thought that thing was permanent. … Anyway more to the point, I've gone back to living in my old desert hideout and caves don't tend to have doors in them."
" Ha! A cave? Whatever happened to all that money from being the best player in some stupid sport? Did you waste it all?" The sole of pointed boots press down on the bandit's back, pressing him back down to the floor and making him unable to get up.
" No … it's not that. I might have gone and cocked up one of my games, that's all. I swung the bat too hard and you can guess what happened next. A whole neighbourhood destroyed and dozens of people injured and me up to my neck in lawsuits." Grabbed by the front of his vest and heaved back onto his feet he sees a smile playing across Vegeta's face.
" So now that makes two of us who have got a bit carried away whilst in a spectator sport, I killed not injured though. Hmm, pounding you was just the therapy I needed. I'm listening so now's your chance, persuade me."
" Uh, I have nothing to offer that you would want. We've lived together before, Vegeta, ain't nothing new, I know the rules and'll stay out ya way. How about if I leave then Washu would follow and probably cause a great amount of chaos if she were unleashed in a public environment."
" I suppose it would be far too cruel to let Washu loose on this world so it will be your job to keep her in line. Good luck, you'll need it. You owe me for this so if I ask something of you I expect you to obey without question." Circulation to Yamcha's head is cut off from the chokehold of Vegeta, giving him no chance to thank him or anything. Vegeta catapults him back through the still open door to the training room to skid face first along the floorboards of the living room as he slams shut the door to his sanctum. Bruised but mainly uninjured in the most part, the sound of footsteps approaching the prone Z-warrior resting on the floor causes him to look up to see the reason he went in to converse with Vegeta.
He picks himself up to see her face as she anxiously inspects his body to see the extent of his injuries. He brushes away her worries when he explains that he did what she asked of him and grins at her as her face erupts with glee into a bewitching smile. Overjoyed, she follows him upstairs to watch him move his stuff, as he requires no aid, and guides him through her labyrinth. He would be hopelessly lost without her, she will have so much fun now he is trapped with her in the place only she knows. A place of shadows and machinery, contraptions and guile, pleasure and pain but more importantly somewhere with only one single exit that she can make disappear.