"Hey… hey, um, Kress?"
"What is it, kid?" She didn't look up from her welding, intent on fixing that pesky plate.
Trunks shifted from foot to foot for a second, studying her, before finally heaving a breath. "Can I train with you?"
Her grip slipped on the trigger, and the heat from the nozzle petered out. After a second's hesitation, she set the torch down and flipped up the heavy mask, giving the teenager an incredulous "What? Why?"
"Well, Dad's busy, and Mom's been taking care of Bulla all day, and Goten is busy helping his mom…" he trailed off, giving her the Look. She hated those puppy eyes. "Please? Just once?"
"What about Gohan? Or Piccolo? Or Goku?"
"They're all busy too." He insisted.
Kress looked back at her welding longingly, before letting out a heavy sigh. "Just this once. I don't usually do that."
"Yes!" He fist-pumped as she set down her welding equipment and heavy leather apron.
"Yeah, yeah, let's go," she groused halfheartedly, shooing him out of the room. Her space pod could wait, it seemed.
The boy chattered all the way to the gravity chamber in a manner she'd only seen when he was around Goten. It was impressive, she had to admit. How much air was in there?
"-and we've been working really hard on mastering it, maybe even going further beyond!" He paused to take a breath. Ah, there he went. He'd lasted all of thirty nonstop seconds, impressive. "So yeah! If my dad could go Super Saiyan Four, I know Gotenks can!"
"Impressive," she murmured. "I thought he was bluffing at first, but I guess there really are other forms of Super Saiyan. Huh. The legends were true."
"What kinds of legends? Dad always talks about the Legendary one."
"Back when I was a youngling, I was only on Vegetasei for as long as it took me to learn how to make ki beams. I did hear murmurs among the lower ranks about a form beyond the legend, but everyone thought it was just a story. My supervisor hated hearing us talk about it. She said that kind of talk was gonna lead to rebellion against Frieza and get us all killed."
Trunks stared at her for a second before nodding in understanding. "Wow. Your teacher was hardcore."
"She had to be." She opened the door to the chamber, ushering him in. "We were being sent to conquer. Survival wasn't expected."
That really did make him take pause. Trunks stared at her with something like a deep, unsettled wonder. "She… she said that to you?"
"Yeah? What else was there to say? We all knew we were never gonna make it back." Kress scrunched up her nose.
The lavender-haired teenager opened his mouth to reply, but the door shutting with an audible slam made him close it. "... Never mind."
He found his way to the gravity controls and hummed in thought. "How much gravity can you handle? What did my dad set it for?"
"I believe your dad set it to a hundred times Earth gravity," she said flatly.
"Great! One hundred it is." With a beeping sound, everything suddenly felt a little heavier. Kress heaved a breath, feeling her muscles strain against the gradual change. For a second, her limbs shook like a newborn fawn's. Trunks seemed wholly unaffected, standing there with a smile just the same as if they were outside. On some level a pinch of irritation nagged at her. This child was able to withstand many times this planet's pull, yet she was still struggling to keep upright?
"Can I show you what I've been working on now?" He asked, warming up with a few hops.
Without waiting for an answer, he clenched his fists and took a breath. For a second, only the buzzing of the gravity room filled the silence. And then, his voice banished it.
"Haaaaaaaa…" he narrowed his eyes, and something lashed out from his body, a power that whipped about before taking hold in an aura that surrounded him like a cocoon. Kress pressed against the back wall of the chamber as his voice raised in volume, until he was nearly screaming with the amount of power pouring out from him. His hair defied gravity as it flashed a golden color, before the ends began to grow. They grew in length until his hair was like a golden crown on his head, waving with the immensity of the golden aura surrounding him.
Kress gaped at the sight, fingers digging into the wall as she beheld him. "Wh- what- the-?!"
"Haaaaaa…! HAAAAAAAAA!" Trunks clenched his eyes shut, and the crown of hair shot upward and out, until it fell in long waving tendrils about his shoulders and back.
When at last the youth opened his eyes, he grinned at the amazed adult. "Super Saiyan Three," he proudly stated, clenching and unclenching his fists. "Wow, I've never actually reached this form by myself before. It feels… so different!"
"Your hair," she spluttered, pointing a trembling finger at him. "It's so- long! Your eyes, your- your aura ! What in the world-?!"
"Awesome, right?"
"Terrifying…" she breathed, clutching her tail. "So this is the power beyond… just like they said…!"
"You know it's just a story, don't you?" Hoka, a little Saiyan boy she'd known before, had snorted derisively once. "If a Super Saiyan whatever really existed, Lord Frieza would just kill 'em. Don't you listen to a word Instructor says?"
If Hoka had been here now, he might have spontaneously combusted from sheer awe. The legends all of them had heard passive murmurs of, all of them were real. This was real.
"And Frieza's dead," she whispered, a bubble of giddy laughter rising in her chest. "Frieza's dead, and the legends are all true. There really is something beyond Super Saiyan."
For a moment, she perceived the power radiating off of the youth with excitement. When she'd first heard that not just one, but two others were able to tap into the same well of power she had for mere moments as a child, she was a bit skeptical. But as she'd come to realize, perhaps there was more to their potential than she and the other younglings had been taught to believe.
"What else can you do?" She finally caught herself asking, blinking to wet her eyes. The air had suddenly become quite dry.
With a sharper grin, Trunks cracked his knuckles.
"What in the world happened to you?" Bulma demanded the second they were back in the house.
Kress grunted against the youth's weight resting on her back. "We went a little overboard on the Super Saiyan stuff," she explained wearily. "Your kid is really something. Did you know how powerful he is?"
"I know he has his father's might," the mother agreed tersely as she shifted Bulla's weight to her other side as she led them through the hall. "Nothing's broken, right? No ribs, arms, legs, gravity controls…?"
"Nope, just exhausted," the younger woman confirmed as they reached the stairs. Her own limbs felt like they were about to fall off, and Trunks was breathing heavily against her shoulder, clinging with all he still had to her back. She grunted, shifted his weight further up, and tightened her grip on his legs. Taking a breath, she tried to float up the stairs with Bulma's hand on her arm to steady her.
"C'mon…" she grit her teeth, narrowing her eyes in concentration. "You can do this… just pretend you're weightless and… just… float!"
Step by step she made it, toes barely brushing against the panels. When at last they were on the upper floor, she let out a breath she forgot she was holding and sagged against the wall with a huff.
"Hard part's over," Bulma encouraged, patting her shoulder. "C'mon, let's get him to bed for now."
"He's really damp and sticky," Kress complained. "You sure you wanna dirty his sheets?"
"I can just wash them later. Besides, he hates it when I try to bathe him." She rolled her eyes and added, "Apparently he's too old to ask for help from his mother anymore…"
With a contemplative hum, Kress followed her to a door with a sign on it that was clearly handmade. "Trunks", it read, with a scribbly doodle of the boy in question on the side and the undeniable emblem of the Vegeta bloodline more neatly traced out next to it.
"Cute, huh? He made that when he was about ten, I think." Bulma chuckled fondly before opening the door and ushering her in.
It was definitely a boy's room. Same bed, desk, chair, closet, and such, but on one wall was a TV and a gaming console, plus two controllers. Next to the bed on one side was a dresser with a few figurines and capsules on it. On the wall above the desk was a corkboard full of photos and various papers. One of them, a photo half-hidden behind what appeared to be a letter, depicted both this Trunks and his future self standing side-by-side with matching smiles on their faces. Another was of Trunks, Gohan, and Goten, the latter two in fighting gis similar to Goku's. A poster or two were pasted above his bed, one of Videl's father (autographed with a flashy style). Another was of some movie or other with someone in garish clothes called "the Great Saiyaman".
As she rolled him over her shoulder and lay him down, Bulma pulled off his shoes and set them on the floor. Wiping her brow with her sleeve, she kissed her son's cheek and patted his shoulder.
As soon as they were out of the room, she turned to the mechanic. "Alright, spill. What in the world did you do to tire out my son?"
"He wanted to show me a new form of his, and I figured it didn't hurt to indulge." She shrugged. "Why, are you upset?"
"Are you kidding? I'm impressed! Nobody except Goku, Vegeta, and Goten have ever managed that." The woman huffed a laugh, shaking her head incredulously.
A small burst of pride bubbled up in her chest, and she straightened her shoulders and smoothed her gait.
"The kids really seem to like you. I didn't even think it was possible that Trunks could like someone more than Goten," his mother joked, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "Though I think some of it is having another Saiyan around- er, another alien, that is. Life can be boring when you're surrounded by boring humans, I guess. That's how Vegeta puts it."
"Well, Vegeta is boring." Kress stated matter-of-factly.
That earned a laugh, and the inventor looked over at her with mirth in her eyes. "You have no idea."
The two made their way down the stairs, and Dr. Briefs met them at the bottom with Scratch comfortably perched atop his shoulder.
"Good afternoon," he greeted their guest before turning to his daughter. "Bulma, I need your help in the lab real quick."
Like a switch, it was like Bulma steeled herself and shifted from one demeanor to another. She nodded firmly and bid Kress a quick goodbye before walking past with her father. "What's the issue?"
Kress watched them go, discussing this and that until they turned a corner and their voices faded from earshot. Rolling her shoulders around into a stretching yawn, she scratched her side and made her way to the kitchen.
Mrs. Briefs was humming a cheerful tune as she stood over the counter, preparing some noodles for the baby in the high chair. She looked up as she heard the approach. "Oh, hello, dear! Would you like something to eat?"
Settling in at the table, she rested her chin in her palm. "What'cha got?"
"Hm, now let's see…" Turning, the blonde woman crossed the kitchen to the fridge and pulled it open, scanning its contents. "We have some casserole… and, hm, how do we have dinner rolls left…? Ah, would you like some lobster?"
"Um… could I get something else?"
Panchy nodded. "That's no problem, dear. How about some casserole? I'll even heat up a roll for you!"
"Sounds good," she decided with a nod.
Bulla made grabby hands and made a sound, reaching for the bowl of noodles. "Ah! Gib!"
"What's the magic word, sweetie?" Her grandmother cooed, looking over from where she was lifting a hefty serving dish out of the fridge.
Bulla pouted, hesitating for several long seconds. Then, "Pwease?"
"Ooooookay," Kress said slowly, brow furrowing as she took the bowl and set it on the baby's tray. "Uh… how do I…?"
"Oh, I can handle that!" Panchy wiped her hands off on her apron and hurried over. "Here, dear - go and give yourself as much as you'd like."
The Kypan nodded stiffly and got up, Bulla's inquisitive eyes following her all the way. Making her way over to the casserole, she inspected it, sniffed it, poked it with a fork - and smiled when she smelled curry spices. Out of everything the humans had handed her to eat thus far, she had to say curry was becoming one of her favorites; the spice pleasantly tingled on her tongue and the succulent meat and hearty veggies were nicely filling.
Scooping a nice portion out into a bowl, she hummed one or two notes before putting a roll with the bowl and putting it in the microwave. She hesitated when it came to buttons, but quickly recalled how to do it. "This isn't much different from tech on that one outpost… oh what was it called… Frieza 79? Nah, that wasn't it…"
Once the microwave was started and humming to fill the silence of the kitchen, she turned to the serving dish and gingerly picked at the top, clicking it back into place over it and putting it back in the fridge.
"Oh, thank you, dear," Panchy realized, looking up with a smile as she offered the last of the noodles to Bulla.
The microwave chimed pleasantly, and opening the door wafted out a delicious smell. Kress could feel her mouth beginning to water as she carefully took out the bowl and took a deep whiff of the food. Still just as appetizing as the night before.
Sitting at the table, she took a tentative first bite. It was almost too warm, but luckily her mouth was able to handle it. She wolfed down the food as fast as she could, yet still wanting to be careful not to get things dirty.
Bulla watched her eat with rapt fascination, and she giggled and clapped as soon as the bowl was completely empty of curry and rice.
"You must have been hungry!" Panchy chortled, taking the bowl. "Would you like some more?"
The Kypan nodded rapidly, swiping sauce from her lips with part of the roll still left - and then a second later remembered to say, "Uh, please."
The woman swept across the room, skirts swishing at her knees daintily as she went to get out the casserole again.
The baby clapped her hands again. "Wess! Hi!"
Kress paused in tapping on the table, slowly turning to stare at the girl. "Uh…?"
"Wess!" Bulla beamed at her, showing the few teeth she had.
Panchy gasped in delight, setting the serving spoon down in the dish and cupping her hands over her cheeks. "How precious! Oh, Kress, she said your name! Bulla, sweetie, can you say Kress?"
"Wess!"
"Kress," the Kypan corrected carefully.
"Wess!" Bulla's eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Oh, now I know you're just doing it to do it," she huffed, a playful smile slowly spreading across her face. "So I'm Wess now, huh? And who are you?"
"Buwwa! Duh!"
That got a sudden high-pitched cackle of laughter out of her grandmother, something that made both of them turn to stare at her in surprise. Panchy cupped a hand over her mouth to stifle it the second she realized, giggling and waving it off. "She must have learned that from Bulma!"
Crossing the kitchen, she poked the child's chubby cheek and cooed, "Or was it from Auntie Tights? Hmmm~?"
Bulla laughed giddily, slapping the tray of her high chair with tiny hands.
As Panchy looked over at the alien woman to gauge her reaction, she was surprised to see such a placid expression on her face as she gave the child a hint of a smile. She didn't usually look so peacefully fond…
All too soon, she must have realized what face she was making, because that playful grin was back as she poked the girl on the tip of her nose. "You definitely got that from your mom. The day Vegeta finds it in him to play around is the day pigs grow wings!"
Turning to the older woman, she inquired, "Did I say it right?"
An amused expression filled her face, and she nodded.
What should've been a peaceful afternoon was unfortunately interrupted as Vegeta stepped into the lab, arms folded. "Kress. Gravity Room."
The Kypan woman groaned with an eye-roll. "Come on, Vegeta, I'm busy helping."
"You'll never get stronger unless you push yourself," he demanded.
Bulma looked between them with a huff of quiet amusement. "Kress, if you want, I can take it from here."
"Don't you dare say that," she hissed, gripping the welding torch tighter.
"Too late, I heard her say she doesn't need help." Vegeta gripped her by the back of the collar and yanked her back, ignoring her choked yelp of surprise.
"Don't be too hard on her!" Bulma yelled after them.
"Hmph. I can show restraint."
"Not what it looks like from down here," the woman huffed, giving him the stink-eye over her shoulder. "I can walk myself. Let go."
Without a word, Vegeta let go of her shirt and she tumbled gracelessly to the ground with a grunt. He continued walking even as she rolled around to pick herself up, ignoring her seething look at his back.
"If you expect me to treat you gently just because you're female, you're sorely mistaken." The prince remarked as he paused mid-stride, turning to stare at her.
"I'd have been awfully upset if you did," she answered shortly, dusting off her shorts. "I'm not a human woman."
"You're not," he agreed, leveling her with a cool stare as they entered the gravity chamber. "You're a fighter."
"Are you still holding onto that ridiculous opinion?"
He didn't answer for a moment as he put in directions for the gravity controls. The entire chamber began to hum to life and already she could feel the forces of the artificial gravity increase pulling, threatening to drag her down to the floor. She resisted with only a little bit of trembling in her limbs.
"Until you prove otherwise, yes." Cracking his knuckles, he adjusted his gloves.
"I already watched your youngling tire himself out once today, and I'm not very eager to keep doing this." Kress huffed, throwing off her sweater, leaving her in a tank and shorts. Her tail twitched irritably from its spot on her waist. "One of these days I'm gonna kick your butt so badly you keep your distance. If that's what it takes, anyway, then I'll gladly take on that challenge."
A grin spread across the older Saiyan's face, and he got into a stance. "Try to hit me."
Rolling her wrist about, she clenched her hand into a fist and leapt forward with all of her might, attempting to land one on his face. She was swiftly disarmed, arm yanked behind her back and her cheek hitting the floor with a grunt of pain.
"You're too open with your attacks," he scolded with a frown. "Even a child could've seen that coming. Try it again."
With a growl of frustration, she rolled along the floor and picked herself up. She took a minute to study him - he seemed nonchalant in his stance, but the way his fingers were twitching, clenching slightly and relaxing rhythmically, belied his alertness. His eyes stared her down with a cool indifference, almost as if this was a bore to him. The thought made her blood rumble with anger; if anything, this was a waste of time to her.
Eyes narrowing in concentration, she made her way towards him. One step. Two. Three.
Vegeta watched her, silently daring her to act.
She made to punch him in the chest, and she noticed him try to block - but at the last moment she missed and her leg came up in a kick to the side. It connected, and for a moment she smiled triumphantly - but in the next he gripped her ankle and tossed her across the chamber. Kress hit the wall with a wheezing breath escaping her chest.
"Are you even trying?" Vegeta scoffed.
"Well excuuuuuuuuse me…" Her limbs shook terribly as she tried to get up. The wall had barely even budged, much to her relief - she remembered Bulma complaining when she had to fix the floor. "I never learned how to fight. And somethin' tells me you aren't gonna like what I did learn…"
"Survival is survival. Whatever you learned can be refined into an impressive arsenal." Beckoning her with a hand, he declared, "Come at me with everything you know."
"... I'm not upset enough," she declared, sitting back and relaxing with her arms behind her head.
The prince of Saiyans felt his eye twitch.
"Hey, Geta! Thought I'd drop in and- oh great Kami in the Lookout what in the world happened here?!"
"Don't just stand there, Kakarot - pull her off of me!"
"You said no holding back!"
"ARGH-! SHE'S BITING MY FINGERS!"
"Hang on, I'll get-"
Chomp.
"OW!"
"She keeps aiming for my legs!"
"Almost got her! Brace, Vegeta!"
"DO IT! DO IT NOW! SHE'S KICKING ME IN THE-!"
Kress sat stubbornly silent on the couch, arms folded across her chest. The makeshift muzzle on her face was beginning to dig into her skin.
Vegeta sat across on the other couch, death glare centered squarely on her as he rubbed his bandaged arms. The bandages on his face crinkled with how severe his expression was.
Goku stood between them, looking at Bulma helplessly as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Here I thought you had a problem with biting people," she scolded the orange-clad man.
"He said to show him what I knew." The Kypan calmly shrugged her shoulders. "So I did."
"You ripped holes in my bodysuit," he hissed angrily. "You scratched my face. You bit my nose! You kicked me in the dick!"
"Then maybe you shouldn't have called my master a low-brow useless little-"
"Okay, okay," Bulma loudly interjected, raising her hands.
Kress leveled him with an intense stare. She said nothing, but her eyes said everything.
"You can't rely on fighting like a savage forever." He accused, folding his arms across his chest. "Not everyone you meet is going to fall to some biting and screaming. You need to learn disciplined techniques!"
"I hate to say it, but I agree." Scratching the back of his neck with his unbitten hand, Goku frowned at the older woman. "I didn't get this strong from refusing to fight."
"Y'know, it might actually benefit her to go train in the Room of Spirit and Time for a while." Bulma leveled the both of them with a glare. "Preferably with a decent teacher."
Vegeta looked away and Goku hummed to himself, tapping his chin.
"Well," he said, "having some physical attacks wouldn't be too bad to have in case ki fails. I wonder if I could get Piccolo to train her for a while. He's pretty good at physical offense."
"The Namekian?" Kress spoke up curiously.
"He's really strong. And despite how he looks, he can be patient." Goku seemed to puff up with pride as he said it, a smile in his voice. "If there was anyone I'd trust for training, it's Piccolo."
"He's formidable now that he fused with Kami again," Bulma mused in agreement. "Plus, didn't he fuse with someone when we were on Namek? I keep forgetting what his name was…"
"Nail."
All three of them looked up at Vegeta.
At their staring, he heaved a sigh and repeated, "Nail. The Namekian's name."
"I didn't think you remembered," Goku hummed.
"Unfortunately." The older of the two snarked. "He mentioned once that he named a technique after him. One doesn't tend to forget when they're hit with a..." He paused, rolled his eyes, and used air quotes, "...Nail Gun."
After a moment of silence passed between them, Bulma cleared her throat. "Well. Goku, go talk to Piccolo and see if Dende or Mr. Popo will let you use the Room of Spirit and Time. After it got rebuilt I don't think there should be much of a problem…?"
"Dende likes him, so he'll probably say yes!" He chirped, raising his fingers to his forehead. "No sweat, I'll go talk to him."
With a pop, he was gone from the living room. Now Kress could more easily see the extent of the damage she inflicted on the Saiyan.
With a grin and a flash of her teeth, she smugly inquired, "So. Do ya have feeling back in your fingers yet?"
A/N: Can you tell yet how much fun I'm having writing Bulla as a precocious cutie? I seriously love her. I hope we get to see her and Pan as snarky teenagers someday just like we did in GT... oh the fun they would have (at Vegeta's expense)!
