AN: I hope you enjoy the next chapter!

Chapter 12

All Bulma could hear was the blood rushing through her ears in a dull roar. She must have imagined those words. They might have been gibberish for the amount of sense they made. A fiance? Who? She had never so much seen him even look at another female with any amount of interest that went past a training perspective. How could he possibly have gained a surprise mate when he spent all of his time either training, eating, or with her? None if it made any sense…

"... Bulma…" she heard as if from a distance, the sound arising from deep underwater, finally piercing the fuzzy cloud her head seemed to be encased in. She blinked her vision clear and saw Vegeta's confused look at her. She wondered if he had been trying to get her attention for a bit now. She gave her head a little shake, imagining what her blank face had looked like to him.

"Um… Did you say… What did you say?" she stuttered, still trying to organize her scattered thoughts.

Vegeta looked away, uselessly trying to organize his already organized clothing. "My father has insisted that I have a mate, so he has procured me a fiance. I don't have much say in the matter as I am not yet the king, and I have put it off as long as my father will let me, it seems."

Bulma's mouth worked for words, but she appeared more like a fish with her useless jaw bobbing. "So…" she finally got out, "what does this mean?" The "for us" was implied, if not said, but Vegeta took her meaning. He looked at the floor for a moment, his hand resting lightly on his dresser.

"Nothing, for now. I don't want this, so I will put it off as long as I can. I don't plan on changing a thing."

Bulma felt relief fill her chest, though she wasn't sure how she felt about that relief. What that meant was she was happy to be able to flout a royal engagement; one that was arranged by the king himself. She felt she was swimming in some dangerous waters, but when the water was so warm… How could she not?

After the initial shock of his announcement, things did indeed return to normal. The predicament was one that was always in the back of Bulma's mind, which effectively drowned out any worries about Yamcha or discussing bonding, but she was able to ignore it when he was near and that ever-present pull was hovering between them. In fact, it seemed even stronger than before. It was getting harder and harder to focus on anything else other than him, and they found themselves sneaking off more often than before. Vegeta now made the schedule of training that every day he and Bulma were "working on tech" in their tech room for half of the day. While tech was being worked on, it certainly wasn't the main focus; though, Bulma did recognize that she needed to come up with something—and soon—so that it wasn't suspicious. Luckily, she was a goddamn genius and had something she just needed to do the finishing touches on before she kicked it out to the group, and the amount of time left after their shenanigans was plenty of time to polish it off.

It didn't take long for her to release her latest invention to the group of elites—an add-on of sorts to the current training bots that allowed them to be tailored to whoever was fighting them, sensing and cataloging their weaknesses. They would then focus on those weaknesses until they were no longer a hindrance for the soldier.

She stood off to the side, watching as the others took turns getting beaten over and over, learning what their biggest combat flaws were, and correcting themselves. She was not only proud of herself but proud of her fellow elites for how swiftly they adapted and altered their typical styles in order to not leave themselves open to defeat by anyone.

She was so engrossed in watching their progress—while also dreaming up new improvements—that she almost jumped when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Her head jerked around in surprise, and she instinctively stepped back when she met Yamcha's somewhat conciliatory eyes.

"Hey…" she said tentatively, not sure what was going to be said and if she should be concerned that it was in a public setting. Was this it? Was this when he would out their dalliance to the entire crew? Her entire body tensed in anticipation.

"Hey…" he replied, obviously a bit uncomfortable but not seeming openly hostile like he had previously. "So, I had a conversation with Chichi…" He trailed off, as if that explained everything.

"Oh," Bulma said shortly, not sure what else to say as his suspended sentence didn't really give her any insight into what he was going to say. She didn't know how to prepare.

He nervously scratched the back of his head while also refusing to make eye contact with her. He cleared his throat and finally said, "She explained the, uh, situation to me."

"How much of the 'situation'?" Bulma questioned. She wasn't sure how much she wanted Yamcha to know… The potential of a bond is not something she wanted widely known. At this point it was only her and Chichi who knew, and she wanted to keep that circle of knowledge very small.

"That this wasn't some sort of way to the top for you," he said sheepishly. "That this wasn't planned or strategized out. That it just happened organically, and you aren't looking for special treatment out of it."

Bulma stood there watching him for a moment, Yamcha still being very visibly uncomfortable. Her face remained unreadable and blank as she considered him. She stayed silent long enough that his eyes ventured up to hers to see what her reaction was.

"Do you know," she began, "what the most disappointing thing about that whole revelation is?" She waited until he gave her a little shrug. "That you didn't come to that conclusion on your own. You needed someone else to bring that possibility up to you. We've known each other since we began as elites. That you could have thought that of me is…" She couldn't finish. She didn't know how to describe it as "disappointing" didn't seem strong enough of a word to express how she felt about his ideas of her.

Yamcha's eyes widened, and he gaped a bit like a fish as he took in what she said. "Bulma," he sputtered, "I don't know what I was thinking. I was just shocked at finding it out, and then I got mad. I had thought—" He cut himself off.

Bulma raised her brows, her hands on her hips. "You had thought what?"

He lowered his head, almost in shame. "I had thought maybe we would get together," he said quietly.

"And you thought this was a good enough reason to act toward me the way you did? And if you liked me so much, how did you switch to believing such a thing about me? If you thought I was capable of that, why did you like me?" Bulma felt like a mother berating a child, but he had to know that he was in the wrong.

"Bulma, I'm sorry!" he finally said, making the first sincere eye contact with her in weeks. He truly looked repentant. She looked around, noticing some eyes on them, and grabbed his arm to pull him off to a less populated section of the training rooms.

"I wasn't thinking. All that was going through my head was that there was no other reason that you would be with an asshole like him unless there was something in it for you. I know you aren't the type of person to do that, but I also know what your aspirations are. In my mind, that was the only reason you would have done it." Yamcha was letting it all pour out—thoughts that had probably been pent up for weeks. Bulma just let him talk without interrupting until he was done.

Once he had fallen silent, she let the quiet hang in the air. She took a deep breath before starting. "Did it ever occur to you that since I worked more closely with the prince and have spent more time with him, I may have seen a different side of him than you? Or that maybe there's just something there? I'm not a person who does things very impulsively. You know this about me. You think I would do something like this for—what?—fun? Put myself in this kind of situation if it were something that was just… a choice?"

She stopped herself. She didn't want to say too much about her situation or her worries about what was happening. Based on the look on Yamcha's scarred face, though, it may have been too late…

"What are you saying, Bulma?" he asked quietly. She snapped her mouth shut and looked away. "What do you mean it's not a choice? I may not like the guy, but you're not the type to be forced, and he's not the type to force."

Bulma's eyes widened in shock. "No!" she blurted out before quickly lowering her voice. "No, no one is doing any forcing."

"Then what do you mean you don't have a choice…?" he asked, confused.

Bulma sighed. This conversation was going somewhere she didn't want it to go. She was more used to talking to Goku where things like this went over his head. "Nothing. Don't worry about it. Just know that this didn't happen because I was trying to up my status."

Yamcha nodded, his expression guarded. He was dropping it for now, but he wasn't going to forget. "I know that, Bulma. I really do. I can't say I understand, but I trust you."

It felt like a knot of tension was released from between Bulma's shoulder blades, and her body relaxed. "Thank you, Yamcha," she said sincerely. "I would like it if this was kept quiet. I don't need others coming to these same conclusions. If you came to it, others will come to it sooner and with more conviction."

"Of course," he said, giving a clipped nod.

"Well," Bulma said, giving a little clap of her hands, "have you tried out the latest update?"

The blue-haired warrior was surveying the other elites as they worked with the updated bots. It had been a week since their implementation, and the bots were continuing to pose a challenge to the soldiers. When they began to correct themselves for the weaknesses that were being thrown back in their faces, they developed new ones that were being exploited. It was forcing all of them to perfect their fighting style without creating new openings for their opponents to exploit. Needless to say, Bulma was feeling not only proud of herself but also in her comrades as they continuously adapted.

She barely registered the sound of the door opening. The only thing that made her look was that connection to Vegeta across the room pinging like a tripped booby trap. A surge of some sort of strong emotion flew to her, almost like a physical sensation, which caused her to look at him. His eyes were on the door, his body so tense he appeared frozen. Her eyes went to where his were fixed—and landed upon one of the most beautiful saiyans she had ever seen walking toward Vegeta. Her long hair swayed behind her as she all but glided across the hall, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room. Her hips swayed slightly in a natural, unforced way. She was tall and lean with an underlying strength that was felt rather than seen. Her deep ebony eyes were locked on Vegeta's as she made her way to him. The prince had yet to move or even blink.

The woman came to a stop a few feet before him and sank into a deep curtsy. "My prince," she said, her voice melodious but powerful. A commanding voice.

The voice of a future queen… Bulma thought, her stomach feeling like it had dropped to her feet. This was her. Bulma could tell. The woman gave off an air of power and authority. She could also sense that Vegeta was less than pleased to see her. That made her feel slightly more comfortable, but not by much.

The statuesque saiyan straightened and gave the prince a serene smile. "You have been so busy as of late; I figured I would come to you and see how you spend your days." Her voice was like water flowing over rocks—smooth and liquid. By now, everyone in the room had their eyes trained on this unexpected exchange, and it appeared Vegeta knew it. He unfroze enough to glance around the space, noting the attention.

He squared his shoulders and set his jaw. "An unnecessary visit. Other than our updated drone technology, it is typical training," he responded in a short, emotionless tone.

The woman let out a little gasp and clasped her hands together, a smile spreading across her face. "That's right!" she exclaimed. "Where is Bulma Briefs?"

Bulma felt her face flush, and her tail that was wrapped around her waist squeezed her in response to the tension. She instinctively took a small step back before all eyes fell on her. Oh god, she thought, does she know? Does everyone know?

The mystery saiyan followed the room of eyes and landed on the blue-haired warrior. She turned and made a beeline to the frozen woman in her sights, coming to a stop a few feet in front of her. "How could I miss you? Your coloring definitely stands out. It makes sense that you would stand out in other ways as well."

Bulma stood there blinking at this woman, unsure how to respond. Did she bow? Did she avert her eyes? Did she shake her hand? She chose the safer and, to be honest, instinctive option of not moving an inch.

"But here I am, going off without even introducing myself. My name is Kari. I am Prince Vegeta's betrothed."

If Bulma's stomach was on the floor before, it was now being stomped on. She knew that this was likely the woman's identity, but to have it said out loud from her mouth carried a different weight. Her brain felt like mush, and she did not like that feeling. The blue-haired genius was someone who prided herself on being a quick thinker who could outsmart any situation in record time, but this was beyond anything she had experienced. It was like her thoughts were wading through mud.

She didn't know how long she had been standing there staring at her dumbfounded before she snapped herself out of it and bent into a stuttering bow. She didn't say anything because not only did she not trust her voice, but she didn't know what to call this woman. She wasn't yet Her Highness, but she didn't think she could just call her by her name, could she?

The woman—Kari—gave her a warm smile and gestured for her to stand up. "No need to bow to me," she clarified. "I hold no title as of yet. But I knew I needed to meet the person I had heard so much about and has caused such a stir here. I have been told that it is because of you we did so well on the last mission."

Bulma's eyebrows forked; this woman was already being informed on things that the common saiyan was not. She shook her head a bit. "I was not the cause. My drones didn't fight for us, only helped us prepare. It was our soldiers who shone, and they continue to improve every day."

Kari chuckled slightly and shook her head. "Humility is not something most saiyans are known for. I commend you for that, but I also believe that everyone here would agree with my initial statement." She gestured around the room to the impromptu audience who all gave nods in agreement. Bulma felt her cheeks flush slightly; she did not like all of this attention in this way. Not in front of this woman who was threatening her by her very existence with nothing she could do about it. She felt helpless while on display which is not a comfortable feeling.

"For this reason," Kari continued, waving someone over to her whom Bulma hadn't even noticed, "I have brought someone for you. This is the head of the Science Department, Parnas. He has heard tell of your accomplishments here, and I have heard a rumor that you have an interest in ending up in that department." She winked at Bulma. How did she know that?

"While you are an accomplished fighter—you wouldn't have made it onto this team if you weren't—we feel that your scientific mind would be better utilized in that department. Congratulations, soldier. Or should I say scientist," Kari finished with a smile.

Bulma didn't know what to say. She knew what she was expected to say, and she knew what she should say, but she couldn't string the words together nor get her throat to open up enough to get them out. It felt like her world was closing around her, blackness invading the edges of her vision.

Until she felt the thrum of that string, the anger seeping through from the other side of the room. She felt as much as heard the boots striding across the room.

"Who gave you the authority to make decisions for a team that I lead?!" Vegeta bellowed.

Kari calmly turned toward him. "This decision was made by you father, my prince. I merely offered to be the messenger."

"So my father decided to transfer one of my best fighters?" he retorted, his voice becoming deadly low.

Unphased by this reaction, Kari looked back at Bulma who had yet to say a word during this entire exchange. Bulma couldn't see any maliciousness, but there was a calculating mind behind those eyes. With that warm smile still on her face, she replied, "With her help in the science division, we can make all of your fighters as good as her. She can help with advances that help all saiyans in all ways of life."

With a small incline of her head, she turned away from the fuming prince and once again faced the dumbfounded fighter in front of her. "You will be a boon to the saiyan people, I just know it. Parnas, why don't you take her to the lab and introduce her to her new position?"

Parnas placed a hand on Bulma's shoulder, breaking her stunned fixation on the soon-to-be princess. "Come, Ms. Briefs. I can show you around, and we can discuss what your role is to be and if there are any ideas you have."

Before he had a chance to turn her around and walk her to the door, her eyes locked on Vegeta's onyx orbs. She could only imagine what her face looked like because she felt like she had no control over her body, but his was fiery with an underlying panic. Was this purposeful to separate them? Did someone know? Or was this just a coincidence?

Finally she was pulled enough that she had to turn away from him as Parnas began speaking to her, all words going in one ear and out the other. She caught Goku's eyes on her way out, his face just as confused as hers. She glanced over her shoulder one last time as she was led out of the room, catching Vegeta's fuming eyes before he turned away in a swirl of rage.

Kari watched Bulma leave. Her smile faltered slightly when she saw those blue eyes turn back one last time and stare right past her as she exited the room. She hadn't lied. The king did give this order; however, she had suggested it. She had been asking around about the dynamic of this squad and had been informed about their close working relationship. She wasn't a genius like this unusually colored saiyan, but she also wasn't ignorant. She had her suspicions, and this confirmed them in her mind. Now we would see if this separation would put an end to it.

She felt her future husband turn roughly and stomp away behind her. She turned to look at his retreating form, noting that he was headed for his private training room where he tested Ms. Briefs' bot upgrades before releasing them to his soldiers. Her eyes narrowed, and she turned to follow him before he could get too lost in his training. They needed to finally have a talk.

Vegeta was furious. The moment he walked into his training room and shut the door, he grabbed the nearest item—a random bot—and threw it into the far wall, watching it explode into a scattered pile of mechanical debris. The destruction did not calm his nerves. How dare his father do this! He had no authority over this group.

He was still struggling to contain his rage when he heard the door behind him open. He swung himself around to face whatever unfortunate soul decided to intrude at this moment and was met with the face he least wanted to see at that moment.

"What are you doing in here, woman?" he questioned the tall saiyan standing calmly just inside the now shut door.

"We need to talk," she stated simply.

Vegeta gawked at her. "About what? The authority you feel you have to alter my personal squadron of soldiers? You need to interrupt our work with idle chit chat? Throwing my life into chaos?" he exploded, letting his frustration out at her.

She flinched lightly at this attack. "First of all, I already told you that it is your father's authority, not mine, that transferred your elite soldier to a more suitable area. It was known that she, while being an excellent soldier, was an even better scientist. Is this incorrect?"

Vegeta didn't respond, knowing that he couldn't dispute that. In fact, she had already told him that she only joined the elites to get her foot in the door of the palace with the intention of moving to the science wing. But how his father knew this, he had no idea… That man did not pay attention to this kind of thing. Someone had informed him and made the suggestion. He just knew it.

"I thought so," Kari continued, taking his silence, correctly, as agreement. "Second of all, I do not come for idle chit chat. I come to observe. I prefer to not remain ignorant of the goings on around here if I will be involved in them. Third of all, the last thing I am trying to do is throw your life into chaos. I was chosen for this role of future queen, I did not seek it. While I do understand your frustration at the situation, know that I am not the cause. All I would ask is that you extend to me your patience as I try to fit in with this new part of life, and I will do all in my power to be a benefit rather than a hindrance to your endeavors."

Vegeta was taken aback. He had just assumed she was some power-hungry trollop who had won over his father in order to gain status. He felt his anger dissipate as his curiosity grew. He didn't intend to actually take this woman as his queen, of course, but he would be forced to be around her for the time being and would rather be in some sort of agreement and understanding rather than in a constant state of irritation.

"So why were you chosen?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

A small smile appeared on her face. He was interested in knowing more. This was progress. "My father is a high-level dignitary, and he ensured that I was raised in statecraft, especially considering my age was close to yours. It had always been his hope that I would be in the running to be the future queen."

"Was that always your hope?" the prince asked, cocking his head to the side. He was trying to determine if she was being genuine or selling him a bill of goods to lull him into a deeper relationship and ensnare him. If this was the plan, it would not work, but he would humor her.

She looked at him for a moment and then slowly shook her head. "No, my intention was to go into diplomacy and the like. I never intended to rule, I only wanted to assist in statecraft and various diplomatic efforts. I would have liked a high enough position that my ideas are taken into account, because I believe I have good ideas, but I never set out to enforce them. But if that is what I am tasked to do, I will do it to the best of my ability."

Vegeta nodded. This was acceptable. At least she wasn't an unbearable shrew who was desperate for power. He could put up with her until he figured a way out of this situation. "Very well. You may visit and observe when you feel it necessary."

She smiled at him. "That is all I was planning on doing. Enjoy your training, my prince." She bowed to him and exited the room, smiling to herself. That had gone better than expected.

AN: I'm not going to lie, I am not one who likes to have unecessary conflict all over the place. Yamcha's conflict was one I didn't feel needed to be drawn out as I have written him to be a reasonable person. But now we are introduced to the fiance! Wrenches have been thrown. Let's see where they land. :)

R&R!

- Trixie-chan