The Sheep and the Hedgehog   von <span style='color: gray;'>abgemeldet</span>
================================================================================
                               Prolog: Prologue
                               ----------------


<b>The Sheep and the Hedgehog
 Prologue</b>

Bulma leaned over the computer typing feverishly. It was a mere research,
nothing of important or urgent, but anything was good to keep her mind away from
that subject. She was almost sure her current indispositions had something to do
with the tension and stress it was causing to her. She wasn't feeling like
herself ultimately; she wept without any reason in a moment and in another a
single innocent comment was enough to make her burst out in rage. She slept bad
and ate worse. Her mother had suggested her to see a doctor, but Bulma promptly
dismissed it. She hated doctors, hospitals and anything relationed to them, and
anyway it seemed too much ado about so little. It was probably a flu, yes,
that's it. She would be fine.

She scratched the back of her neck, her fingers brushing her fresh-cropped
lashes. Trying to rise her spirits up, she had visited the beauty parlor that
morning to cut the rest of the permanent off. The result was both simple and
elegant, remembering a bit the haircut she wore when Radditz had showed up. Not
as beautiful as long hair, but very practical, it didn't get in the way when she
worked with her inventions. Besides, by her first time in her life, Bulma didn't
care (too much) if other people would think she was beautiful or not. She sighed
bitterly.

Almost in silence, the door opened up, but Bulma didn't turn around. Even not
hearing anything further, she could perfectly feel the short, muscular figure
walking towards her in his feline pace, sting-eyeing at her now very smaller
head. She stiffened defensively. He would probably say that she looked like a
man, or that she'd look better bald. Or even pretend to not recognize her. The
most probable, however, was that he didn't even take notice of her new hair.
Saiyans or humans, men were all alike. Boor and unsensitive...

"Hrm. Much better."Vegeta grunted.

Bulma almost jumped in her chair. Had she heard well? Had Vegeta made a
compliment?? Forgetting her initial plan of ignoring him, she turned on her
chair, a beautiful smile lighting up her face:
"Do... do you like it? Really?" her voice sounded disbelieving, but as well
anxious.

Vegeta felt the familiar pang he always had when she smiled at him like that,
with her blues eyes shining like they were filled with myriads of mycroscopic
stars. Automatically, he folded his arms across his chest, like shielding
himself from her: "No. But at least you stopped looking like a silly sheep ."

Bulma felt her blood pipe hot. Should had expected that! How could she had been
so naive to believe that, just for a moment, that self-centered jerk would be
able to say something gentleeven to her? Only the smirk at the corner of
Vegeta's mouth kept her from bursting out. That was what he wanted.

"Hmpf!"she primly closed her eyes and lifted up her little nose" Better to be a
graceful sheep than a arrogant hedgehog! At least someone here changes her hair
occasionally." and returned to her work. Vegeta sneered:

"Occasionally? Since we met, I already saw you with FOUR different hairs,
including that junk! A Saiyan's hair doesn't grow that odd way, and doesn't has
to be cut all the time, either."

"So if I cut and shaved all your spikes off you'd be bald forever? How
temptating!"Bulma scoffed, her eyes on the computer screen "But you haven't come
after hair-fighting, Vegeta. What do you want?"

Vegeta shut up, irked at her question. Actually, he didn't know why he was
there. It had been just like a sort of magnet had pulled him towards her place
against his own will, just like it happened so many times before. Like if he
just had to see her, one last time, before he ... Vegeta nearly shook his head.
Absurd. That was what he got for bedding an Earth woman: her race's
sentimentality was contaminating him. No wonder that a pure-blood Saiyan like
Kakarrott had become a soft-hearted dumb just for living in that sickening
planet. But not him.

They stayed there a long while, one working and another watching, one without
knowing what to say and another fearing to listen. The air between them was so
tense that could be cut in half, the woman thought. Vegeta had avoided her by
the last couple of weeks and she finally had found why. A hard lump began to
form in her throat. In part, it was her fault, as much as it costed her to
admit, but blaming herself wouldn't do any good now. She peeked at Vegeta
through the corner of her eye: he was still there, frowning and arms folded,
like an statue. Bulma couldn't stand it anymore.

"When are you leaving?"she asked a very casual tone; only a slight tremble in
her fingers betrayed her anxiety, and she prayed for him to not notice it.

Vegeta suppressed a gasp. He had deliberately concealed his plans of training
out in space from her: the woman was getting more and more unbearable each day
and if she learned that he was going off again, every window and glass at the
Capsule Corp would be shattered by her shrieks. He didn't fear her, of course,
but he also didn't want to be deaf. Besides, that diabolic vixen was downright
able to do anything to keep him, from sabotaging the ship to slip that blasted
"pee-pee" stuff in his food.

And now she calmly asked about his trip, like it was nothing. He never would
understand her.



               Kapitel 1: The Terror Chamber or How Did it Begin
               -------------------------------------------------


<b>Part 1 - Gravity, Senzus and Soup</b>

<i>One year and a half ago...</i>

Vegeta fell to his knees. He felt dizzy, his body aching in several spots. Even
though he recovered quickly, his wounds still weren't completely healed; some
had even opened again, either due to his efforts or because he had ripped off
some bandages to keep them from restraining his movements. He hadn't stopped
training since that annoying woman (Bulma... what a ridiculous name) had finally
switched off the holographic screen and left him alone. Bitch. Who did she think
she was? What did she care if he was healed enough to train or not? Did she take
him for a loser, like her pathetic boyfriend?

A vision of Bulma sleeping beside his bed flicked in his mind. He shook it off
with a frown, and began to float again. His sharp ears caught a soft buzz. He
dodged a laser beam as he blasted off its source, one of the two training robots
that he still hadn't destroyed. The laser rebounded off the opposite wall and
hit Vegeta's side before he could avoid it again. It produced nothing beyond a
slight burn, but he lost his balance and fell on his back.

Hell. What was wrong with him? He had endured much worse on Namek, or even in
his first battle on Earth. With more than half of his bones broken, he had
crawled to his pod after he being crushed by Kakarott's son in his oozaru form.
A few wounds weren't supposed to cause him any trouble. Vegeta almost could hear
B... the woman saying he should rest. He clenched his teeth. His anger gave him
strength to spring up to his feet. He would show her that he didn't need her
advice!

So absent-minded was he that he didn't even notice he was too close to the last
robot. The droid's electronic eye blinked as the Saiyan entered into its firing
range.

Meanwhile, inside Capsule Corp., Bulma paced around like a beast in a cage. Her
mother had called her for lunch one hour ago, but Bulma ignored her, so the
elder woman left her alone with an understanding shake of her head. Bulma didn't
even notice her mother go; the only thing she could hear was her last argument
with Vegeta:

"Will you die in three years"

"No, I'm too young and beautiful to die"

"Then SHUT UP"

"Shut up... shut up..." she repeated over and over. How dare he? She was the one
who told the others to shut up, not the other way around! Why couldn't he see
that she told him to rest for his own good?

"That's it" she yelled at the room"If he wants to kill himself, it's fine with
me, he'll be doing us a great favour! I wash my hands! And I'll tell him now"
the woman concluded as she ran back to the lab.

Her voice seemed to be rebounding off the chamber walls even before she had
turned the screen on:

"Vegeta, I'm telling you three things: One, no one tells me to shut up! Two: I
don't give a damn if you kill yourself! Three..." she silenced, a little
surprised at the absence of a response, and also for not seeing the Saiyan
floating around. "Vegeta"

He was sprawled on the floor, his face down. Still. Next to him, the half-melted
remnants of a training robot.

"VEGEETAAA"

He didn't answer.

Bulma put her hands on her head. Oh Kami, she knew that would happen. That
stubborn, thick-headed Saiyan! She looked at him more intently. He kept still,
and despite the redness of the chamber lights, Bulma thought she had seen some
blood on his body. It was serious. She had seen him collapsed many times, but
never for so long. Maybe he was dead... Her heart tightened at the thought.

To her relief, his head moved a little, then it went still again. Whew. But,
what now? Entering there, impossible. Her father said 10 G was enough to snap a
human's bones like they were twigs; under 200 or more, that was what Vegeta
used... Bulma shuddered and hugged herself.

There was no way of turning off the gravity without entering the chamber. She
could power it off, sure, but then the ship would be closed shut with Vegeta
inside. She would have to summon a bunch of employees with light torches to open
an entrance in the ship, and before that happened Vegeta could already be dead.

Then it clicked in her mind. Of course! How could she have forgotten something
so simple? Frantically, she searched through the lab lockers until she found a
single device. It was constructed of two small boxes bonded to one another by
green leashes, like a knapsack's. She put it on and adjusted the leashes, tying
them around her thorax, in such a way that one of the boxes rested on the middle
of her back and the other between her breasts. It was a new invention she and
her father had come up with since Vegeta had forbidden them from installing an
emergency switch outside of the ship, saying that he wouldn't have his training
interrupted at every minute by the "dumb blonde" and her sucky pastries.

The device created a personal gravity field around its user. Theoretically, it
would make a balance with the gravity of the chamber, allowing Bulma to

reach the machine and turn it off. They had planned to wait for a moment when
Vegeta wasn't using the chamber to make a test. However, since he almost never
left it, the small invention ended up forgotten on a shelf.

Well, its day had come.

She ran toward the ship and pressed the on button. A soft buzzing was heard and
almost instantaneously she felt lighter. Not light enough to fly, but she
smiled, realizing it was difficult to keep her feet on the floor, a bit like the
astronauts on the Moon.

"Here I come, Vegeta."

Clenching her teeth, she slowly opened the door. There he was, as quiet as when
she had turned off the screen. She put a foot inside...

WHAM!

A second later she was pinned, or rather, smashed against the floor.

Damn...

The personal gravity field was just strong enough to keep her alive, but not to
allow her to stand. How had a genius like her not thought of this? Well, at
least she hadn't been smashed to atoms, but... man! That was what Vegeta
experienced in there? It felt like she had a Trans-Atlantic steamer on her
back... worse, it was like she was getting compressed by a hydraulic press. Her
nose throbbed from the fall and Bulma tried to reach for it but discovered, in
panic, that she couldn't even move a finger!

"H-heeellp..." she tried to scream, but the only sound to leave her throat was a
soft moan. It was hard even to breathe, let alone scream. The air came in slowly
and left her pressed lungs even quicker.

Dazed as her parents were, it would take hours, maybe days before they missed
her and decided to send someone after her. The employees, no way. Vegeta had
them scared to death and they would never approach the ship unless they were
expressly told to. Even if it occurred to anyone to look for her in the ship it
would be too late. She was going to suffocate there, still young, beautiful...
and without having found the perfect man. She moaned again.

From the corner of her eye, she saw something move. Something black and blurred,
like a bush of spikes...

Vegeta blinked and lifted himself, resting his weight on his powerful hands.
Shit. How could he faint like that? Then he remembered. Yeah, the robot. At
least he had blasted it before he blacked out. He looked down and clenched his
teeth at the sight of a small pool of his own blood. He hated to admit it, but
he had really pushed himself too much. There was no option but to stop and wait
for tomorrow. What a waste of time. Worse, he would have to endure that
unbearable little woman gloat when she saw him coming back. By the way, he felt
he had heard her voice calling for help. He threw a glare towards the screen: it
was black. Mm. Maybe he had just dreamed it.

Then he heard another moan, coming from the door, and spun his head in that
direction. What he saw made his jaw drop:

"You! What are you doing here"

Even in her situation, Bulma's eyes shot him hateful sparks.

"I'm dying because of you, idiot" she wanted to shout. Instead, the only thing
she could say was a pitiful moan"T-turn it off... please..." She closed her
eyes, seeming to pass out.

Vegeta stared at her for a moment, completely amazed by the fact that she had
survived under all that gravity. Then, he noticed the small box strapped to her
back and shrugged. He should have known. Another one of those crazy contraptions
of hers. Obviously, it hadn't helped much.

"Hmpf. Stupid woman. It's amazing that you're still not dead."

Vegeta struggled to stand up. He toppled, but rose up again and began to walk
with determination. Some blood dripped as he trudged his way toward the gravity
machine and he almost collapsed again, but reached the panel and turned it off.

"Normal gravity restored" droned the emotionless robotic voice. He lost his
balance and fell over on his backside.

Bulma felt the weight leaving her and opened her eyes. For a long moment, she
just lay there, inhaling and exhaling slowly, as though as to make sure that her
lungs worked normally. Her nose throbbed from the fall and she reached to touch
it. If it was broken, Vegeta would pay... Vegeta? Where was he?

She looked forward. Her heart sunk as she saw the bloody trail leading to the
machine. Vegeta was there, resting his back against its metallic wall and
glaring at the floor. He didn't look up when Bulma came towards him (after
getting rid of the anti-gravity invention).

"Now... go away" he snorted, his eyes set on the floor.

"What" Bulma snapped, her hands angrily planted on her hips"I risk my treasured
life to save yours and that's all that you say"

"I didn't ask for your help. And I don't need it, either" the prince tried to
stand up to prove it, but he was completely out of strength and collapsed. Bulma
grabbed him before he kissed the floor, but his weight caught her off balance
and they both slammed down. Without knowing how, the proud Prince of Saiyans
found himself plunged between the soft breasts of the woman he had been
avoiding!

"Aaah! You pervert! Let go! Let go" Bulma shrieked in his ears as she slapped
and pushed him. She hadn't finished and Vegeta had already sprung to his knees,
his face getting redder than a baked lobster:

"You wanted to help me LIKE THIS" he shouted.

"I..." Bulma started but she couldn't finish it. At the vision of a wide-eyed,
embarrassed Vegeta flushing like a schoolboy and without his usual frown, she
couldn't help but laugh.

"Don't laugh" he threatened, blushing a little more"Don't laugh, or I'll..."

The only effect it produced was to make Bulma laugh more. Deeply humiliated,
Vegeta snorted and crossed his arms over his bloody chest.

"C'mon, don't be silly" Bulma said. Still giggling, she seized his arm and swung
it over her shoulder. Surprisingly, Vegeta no longer objected. He leaned on
her.

Once again Bulma felt his muscular, pleasantly warm form against hers. The first
time, after the GR explosion, she was too worried about Vegeta's life to enjoy
the contact; but now his scent and his heat assaulted her senses with such an
intensity that she just couldn't ignore them. It would have been pleasant if
Vegeta wasn't quite awake, and that made Bulma rather uncomfortable. All the way
to the house she chattered to disguise it, her eyes avoiding his face. She
didn't have to worry, though. Vegeta himself was too embarrassed to notice
anything - and not only because he couldn't walk by himself.

Both were relieved when they finally reached the house. Their relief, however,
didn't last long, because Mrs. Briefs almost fainted when she saw her daughter
and the "handsome boy" entering soiled with blood. Bulma had to tell her at
least twelve times that the blood on her dress wasn't hers; still, the elder
woman became so hysterical that it looked like she would have not one, but two
people to nurse, instead. Fortunately, the practical Dr. Briefs showed up and
helped Bulma to calm his wife and carry Vegeta back to his room.



                       Kapitel 2: Music, Senzus and Soup
                       ---------------------------------


Part 2

Music, Senzus and Soup

"Hope you're not planning to make of this a habit," Dr. Briefs said after Bulma
and the stubborn Saiyan were conveniently examined and medicined. To the young
woman's relief, her nose was only slightly red, despite its throbbing. A good
cold compress would work wonders and tomorrow it would be like new, guaranteed
Mrs. Briefs, who had returned to her normal cheerful self. The Dr. said it had
been a miracle that Bulma hadn't broken a bone.

"You were very lucky, my dear," he said, with unnatural concern, "But I'm
disappointed in you. Since you were a child I've always told you to never use an
invention before you have tested it!"

"But dad, how'd you expect me to make a test if Vegeta never allowed us to use
the chamber? I think it actually worked well, if the gravity was at 200, his
usual."

"Actually, it was at 400." Came the calm response from the bed. Both father and
daughter turned to look at the Saiyan.

"You said... what?" Bulma ventured.

"Are you deaf? I put it at 400," he smirked, seeing first the shock then the
proud triumph in the woman's eyes, then threw the fatal blow, "or at least that
was my intention. I had to stop several times to adjust that piece of junk for
less or it would explode again, then it started powering down by itself! If it
was at 80, it was a lot!"

At 80? Bulma fell over. If Dr. Briefs was surprised, he didn't show it.

"Well, anyway it's very impressive, boy. I'm very grateful to you, for having
saved my only daughter's life."

"I don't want your gratitude. Just keep her away from me and fix that
contraption of yours, so I can train tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Impossible. It'll take at least two weeks."

"WHAT!" Vegeta sat abruptly, grimacing in pain. Bulma started a move to help,
but stopped in time, remembering he would shoo her off.

Instead, she just looked questioningly at her father.

"Two weeks? Vegeta is that seriously injuried?" Mrs. Briefs asked for her.

"No, no. It's the time it'll take for me to install a sound system in the
chamber. It's not easy to calculate the echo and the ressonance, so I'll find a
good place for the boxes..."

Bulma fell on her back again and if Vegeta wasn't already collapsed he'd
probably do the same.

His howl echoed throughout all the building:

"WHY DO I NEED A DAMN SOUND SYSTEM!"

Out there, a Capsule Corp employee that passed by was startled and dropped the
heavy box he carried on his foot.

"It's obvious," said the doctor, in his usual calm tone "For gymnastics, there's
nothing like some music for the rhythm!"

"YOU DARE TO CALL MY TRAINING GYMNASTICS, OLD MAN!" Vegeta started to raise his
ki.

"VEGETA! Stop shouting at my father!" Bulma interjected. "He's just being nice
to you, even though you don't deserve it."

"That's unbelievable! There are nothing but morons living in this place! You'll
die in three years if I won't become stronger, and..."

"Oh, as if you cared," Bulma cut him off. "Stop being a hypocrite: I know you
didn't kill us yet only because you need my Dad to make you stronger than Goku!
You're nothing but a parasite and without our help you wouldn't even have a
place to sleep! You should be grateful, instead insulting and threatening us all
the time."

A heavy silence fell over the guestroom. To the old couple's shock, Vegeta just
sat in silence and stared at their daughter in a strange way.

Mrs. Briefs felt that he was hurt because of Bulma's lecture and scolded her:

"Bulma! How can you say something so cruel? Vegeta's just saved your life!"

The prince, however, smirked cynically.

"You're nothing but insects to me," he said very slowly, staring at Bulma as
though as there was no one else in the room, "Insects with some utility, I
admit. When I have done with Kakarott and the others, I'll reward you with a
quick, painless death." His stare at Bulma suggested that her death would be
much less painless and quick than her parents'.

"Well, so that's all right" Dr. Briefs agreed cheerfully, like the promise of a
quick death was the most usual expression of gratitude he received. "So, are you
sure you don't want the system?"

"NO!" Vegeta and Bulma shrieked in a chorus. They looked surprised at each
other, then exchanged glares.

Fortunately, Mrs. Briefs butted in before they started to fight again:

"Now, now, you two. Bulma, leave Vegeta alone. He's been through too

much and needs some rest. I'll cook a good soup for you, my handsome

young man."

The "handsome young man" grimaced in respost. Bulma remembered one night when
they had soup for dinner and Vegeta had hated it. She wasn't much fond of soup,
either, at least not her mother's. It occurred to her it was the first thing she
had in common with the rambunctious Saiyan.

"Soup, mom? " she said dismissively, "Vegeta's injuried, not sick!"

The proud prince, however, was determined to not owe anything else to her:

"Whatever I eat is not of your concern. Woman," he said to Bulma's mother, like
she was his maid "Make that soup now."

"My pleasure, dearest," Mrs. Briefs turned to follow her husband, who seemed a
little upset, most at the dismissal of his musical gift than at their guest's
rude ways. Only Bulma remained in the room, standing in front of the bed, her
face white with fury.

"What?" the Saiyan snorted. "The morons are already gone; what are you

waiting to leave for?"

Bulma had a lot to say to him: what she thought of his manners, his ingratitude,
his way of treating her parents and an amount of other little things. Strangely,
however, his remark calmed her down.

"This is my home; if I go or if I stay is not of your concern," she said,
mocking his way of talking.

She expected him to become angry, like it always happened when she and her
friends mocked him. The prince, however, just stared at her in the same strange
way he had before, then shrugged indifferently:

"Makes no difference to me," he glanced at a chair near his bed then looked up
at the ceiling. It was so fast that Bulma wouldn't have noticed were his eyes
had landed at first if she wasn't looking so sharply at him. She looked puzzled:
was it her imagination or had he invited her to stay with him?

"You're absolutely incomprehensible," she said, taking the seat.

He said nothing. They remained in silence for a while, Bulma lost in her own
thoughts, Vegeta frustrated at the time he was wasting in that bed. This way
he'd never overcome Kak...

"Kakarott!" he shouted.

"Huh?" Bulma started and fell with the chair. She stood up and angrily rubbed
her sore butt:

"Damn you, Vegeta, do you have to scr..." she started, but Vegeta seized her by
her dress and pulled her closer before she could finish it :

"Kakarott's magic seeds! Go to see him and get some, so I can go back to my
training! Now!" he demanded.

Bulma took a few seconds to understand.

"T-the senzu beans, you mean?" the woman's blank look hardened:"Sorry but I
can't."

"How come?" Vegeta was so shocked at the response that he released her.

"Since I let you stay here you have given me nothing but reasons for regretting
it. You've stolen our ship, enslaved my parents, scared our employees to death,
you've eaten all the food we have and you never said thank you for saving your
worthless life twice! Worse, you've never called me by my name! It's only woman
this, stupid girl that!"

"I never name unworthy creatures. Now, go get the senzus...if you want to live a
little more."

"In your dreams!" she raised her little nose and strutted toward the door.

"Come back! Or I'll kill you!"

"Go ahead. If you kill me, Dad'll put you out and you'll never see your precious
Gravity Room again. And Goku'll chase you around the world to avenge my death;
I'm his lifelong friend, y'know. You won't

have any chance."

By one turn, Vegeta really wanted to kill that woman who humiliated him in such
a low way; by another, he admitted she had guts. Rare creatures, even among the
ones stronger than him, were able to stand a verbal duel like that. They usually
gave him hateful looks or cursed him pathethically. That weak human female had
more guts than all the rest of Kakarott's useless friends. Such an enemy he
would be pleased to fight; she hadn't any fighting power, however. While the
greatest moron in the universe...

Tsc. Fate had an odd way of giving its gifts.

He snorted in defeat.

"Alright! You helped me, I admit! Now get me the blasted senzus wom... Bulma!"

It wasn't one please, let alone one thank you. However, when she heard her name
pronounced by Vegeta, Bulma stopped and turned around, her blue eyes beaming
happilly. Vegeta had seen her eyes sparkling many times in anger, but never like
that... like they were filled with tiny stars, looking even more blue. A strange
chill ran down his spine and he unconsciously sat back, a

sweat drop on his forehead.

"I wish I could, but I can't." Bulma said with sincerity.

The Saiyan woke up from his stupor:

"How come you can't? I said what you wanted to hear!"

"It's just your idea has come too late. Yesterday, soon after you almost blew up
the house, I called Goku for the senzus. Unluckily, Master Karin... the guy who
has them, has planted the last seeds, and

they'll take a little while to grow. Seems you'll have to be there for a good
while."

Once again, Vegeta would have fallen back if he wasn't already on his back. He
clenched his teeth and his eyes shook in hateful anger:

"Grrrr... y-you... you tricked me!"

"No I didn't! I just said I couldn't get you the senzus, and it's true. If you
misundertood it, is not my fault." Bulma grinned sheepishly. The way Vegeta
looked at her, however, told her that maybe

she had gone too far, so she added quickly: "...but, if you're in such a hurry
to kill yourself, I can build you a regeneration tank."

"What?"

"I can build a regeneration tank! Gohan and Krillen told me how you healed Goku.
I can build a lot of them... if you give me some info, of course." Her eyes
shone with greedy eagerness, "Wow, the hospitals'll have to go!"

Vegeta snickered.

"What's so funny?"

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," his voice dripped with sarcasm, "But everything I
know is how to operate a tank in an emergency. I don't know the details of its
structure, nor the composition of the nutrient

for the baths, because those things don't interest me. I'm a warrior, not a
scientist," Vegeta concluded, as he was proud of his ignorance.

"Just like Goku." Bulma pouted in disappointment. "You Saiyans haven't a single
bit of scientific curiosity. I wonder how you managed to leave the Stone Age."

Vegeta pretended not to hear.

"Even if you could build a tank it would be a waste of time, because by the time
you finished it I'd had recovered by myself. Saiyans heal quickly, and since I'm
the prince, my capacity's even bigger than

anyone's."

"And your ego, too. How long do you think you'll take to get completely
healed?"

"One day, maybe two, but it doesn't matter," he said indifferently. "Anyway,
I'll have to train hard tomorrow, to compensate the time I'm wasting collapsed
here."

"I can't believe this!" Bulma shook her head. "You're really trying to kill
yourself!" A horrible thought occurred to her and she blanched.

"You... you want the senzus for this, don't you? Are you injuring yourself on
purpose to get stronger when you recover? That's insane! You'll end up really
dying and Shen-Long won't be able to

bring you back. He's not like Porunga, who can bring the same person back many
times. And even if the Namekians have new dragonballs there in their new planet,
I don't believe that they'll agree in..."

"SHUT UP!" Vegeta cut off her ravings with a shout.

Bulma, surprisingly, obeyed him.

"I'm not injuring myself on purpose and if you considered this possibility
you're stupider than I thought. We Saiyans really become stronger whenever we
recover from death; still, I could die and comeback a hundred of times without
never becoming a Super Saiyan."

No one knew that better than him. On Namek, he had forced the balddwarf to
injure him, so the little Namekian brat would heal him,supposing that it was
enough to make him able to defeat Freeza. It

hadn't. He called Bulma stupid, but actually he had been the stupid one. And,
thinking hard, even if he had become immortal and Freeza injured him to a point
that he'd surpassed his level of power, what if he hadn't known how to heal
himself? Even if the white maggot couldn't kill him, he could have mutilated
him, shearing his arms and legs off, then conserving him in his ship as an
object of eternal torture. He would do that, for sure. Vegeta felt a chill
inside by thinking what could have happened if he had his wish garanteed.
Chill... and a bitter feeling that all those years planning had been a waste. He
never had any chance of making his dream come true.

His teeth were clenched with hate.

"So much work to make myself immortal, only to know that, even if I had become a
Super Saiyan, it would had been useless against Freeza. Damn him!"

"Is that why you wanted immortality?" Bulma asked. She knew the whole story, of
course, but she was curious to hear it from Vegeta's point of view.

Vegeta looked annoyed at her for asking something so obvious, but he agreed:

"Yes. I meant to become more and more powerful. There would be a point where my
level of power would surpass Freeza's..."

"Instead, it was Goku who surpassed you both. I see."

"YOU SEE NOTHING!" Vegeta burst out, and not only in the figurative meaning. The
wave of energy from his body wasn't strong enough to cause any damage, but sent
Bulma flying back. Even though she couldn't feel ki, the blue-haired scientist
could see the faint gleam of a white aura around Vegeta, as he roared:

"Do you know how it is to be born to rule a world and instead, to spend your
entire life receiving orders? Do you know how it is to depend on the monster who
destroyed your planet even to eat and dress? Do you know what it is to spend
years planning a vengeance but end up begging to

another do it for you, because you were weak and couldn't make it through to the
end? No, you don't know! Nobody does!" He clenched his teeth and fists, a vein
beginning to swell in his forehead. He wasn't used to openind his feelings that
way and he didn't know why he was doing that now, humiliating himself in front
of that Miss Wise Prick. But he couldn't bear it anymore.

"The only thing that kept me standing all those years was my pride. I was the
Supreme Prince of Power, the Number One of the Saiyans, and Kakarott took it all
from me! And what's left for me? To spend the rest of my life in this mudball,
surrounded by morons and having their pathetic charity thrown in my face at
every minute! Why was I wished back... only to suffer that disgrace?"

"Would you rather have remained in Hell? " Bulma asked, a little offended.

Vegeta didn't answer right away. He was huffing and staring at the wall in front
of him, like he was considering what to say next.

"Of course not," he said at last, his voice husky and low, "Of course not. When
I was brought back I received a new chance to regain what was mine. Kakarott
took everything that was important to me... but he gave me another thing to rely
on: my hate." He snickered bitterly. "Isn't that ironic? The one who destroyed
my life has become my new reason to live."

He paused a bit before he continued: "I don't expect to you understand, nor the
rest of your good-for-nothing friends. I don't care about whatever happens to
me, either, as long as I can defeat him..." his fist clenched tight until it
become almost white, "I might go back to Hell, but not without Kakarott!"

He silenced and lowered his head, as that outburst had worn all his forces out,
sweat pouring down his face darkened by shadows. Bulma stared at him in
amazement.

It looked like he was... crying?

No, he wasn't. His eyes were dry, but there was sorrow in them, indeed. Bulma's
heart tightened in her chest. Since Vegeta had come to live with her family, she
almost never had seen him show any emotions, rather than anger or amusement.
Some shock or embarassment, too, when she and her mother tricked him. Most of
time, however, he remained cold and expressionless, like... like he was dead
inside. Many times the young woman had wondered if he was really able to feel.

Until now.

Her eyes ran through Vegeta's room and his clothes scattered around. Nothing in
there was really his: it was a guestroom of the Capsule Corp. His clothes, Bulma
and her mother had given him because when he moved to Earth he had nothing but a
battered jumpsuit and armor. Even those ones weren't really his: they were
battle clothes given to Freeza's army, an standard - factory-made stuff, without
any trace of personality. How many years had he spent dressed only in that,
instead of dressing as a prince?

"Do you know how is to depend on the monster who destroyed your planet, even to
get dressed and fed? No, you don't! Nobody does!"

But he was wrong. She knew it. Well, not in the complete definition of the word,
but she knew how humiliating was to depend on others goodwill to get dressed and
fed, even to have where to sleep. Like when she traveled with Goku and Oolong
and they had nothing but a RV to sleep in, a generous gift from the desert
bandit Yamcha, and she had to sleep naked because her clothes were filthy and
there was nothing else to wear. Until the perverted Oolong gave her a cheap
Playboy Bunny

fantasy outfit that he had gotten from Kami knows where.

But it was one thing to lose your luggage and have somewhere in the world a cosy
home and a warm, caring family waiting for her. And it was another thing to have
been absolutely stripped from everything. Nowhere to go, no one who wanted him,
no real purpose... only hate and desire for vengeance.

How many times had she taken her own life for empty... Vegeta was right, she
knew nothing. Bulma tried to picture herself without her work, her riches, her
family, her friends, her planet... but she

couldn't.

<i>"I would go crazy."</i>

As soon as the thought hit her mind, she started to understand.

Vegeta was already near insanity: his obssession with defeating Goku was the
only thing that kept him from the abyss. A goal. Something to grab. Even though
he insisted that his pride was the only

thing that had kept him alive during his years with Freeza, in fact it had been
his thirst for getting revenge from his torturer. Beating Freeza, Goku had
inadvertently taken his place in the prince's twisted mind. One enemy for
another. She shook her head sadly for her best friend's fate.

But, if Vegeta managed to surpass Goku, what he would do next, when he had no
one else to beat? Worse, what if Goku died as that mysterious boy from the
Future had predicted? What would happen? She imagined Vegeta completely taken by
madness, killing and destroying everything in sight just for the pleasure of
destroying it, with a real meaning. The Capsule Corp in wrecks, the dead bodies
of her

parents, friends and herself lying among the wreckage, scattered and
dismembered. A shiver ran down Bulma's spine. Suddenly, she felt like she had
invited a planetary time bomb into her house.

"Let's suppose you do it," she said, trying to remain calm.

"Huh?" Vegeta looked up with surprise. He had forgotten the woman's presence
completely.

"Let's suppose you become Super Saiyan," she continued "You'll destroy the
Androids, then Goku and the rest of my friends - and myself, judging from this
nice front-, perhaps the Earth, too. What are you

going to do next?"

The question caught Vegeta off-guard. He hadn't thought of this before -
actually, he avoided it. He remained in silence for a moment, considering her
question. Then his arrogant mask took over again:

"I have no reason to tell you."

"Ah," Bulma nodded with a grin. "You don't know."

Vegeta clenched his teeth in anger, because it was pure truth.

"Just think a little," the woman went on in a lighter tone "You aren't even
supposed to be here, for a start; you were resurrected by pure luck, 'cause no
sane person would wish you back."

Vegeta just raised an eyebrow, in a "tell me about that" way. Bulma went on
irritably:

"What I mean is that, maybe you haven't been wished back by accident.They say
there are strange forces in the universe, even stronger than Kami-sama or Mr.
Kaioh. Maybe this force, or deity or whatever who has made you be wished back
has something in mind for you. You said yourself

you've received a second chance: why don't you take it and...AAAHHH!" a strong
hand grabbed her forearm and pulled her forward violently. At the next second
her nose was at milimeters from

Vegeta's:

"If what you say is truth and some force or god wanted to give me a new chance,
whether it is crazy or it knew what I would do. Anyway, that's only of my
concern."

"Let go! You're breaking my arm!" Bulma was almost falling on her knees in
pain.

Vegeta relaxed his grip a little.

"Why do you insist in nosing into my life?"

"I-I... I..." Bulma stuttered, her cheeks becoming red " Because you're my
guest, sure! While you're leaving here I have the obligation of concerning
myself with your damned welfare, that's all!"

He gave her a long, silent stare. Then, in an abrupt movement, he pulled her
forward, so fast that when Bulma realized it, she was pinned to his bed with
Vegeta over her.

"What are you doing? Let me go!" she struggled and kicked vainly.

"I'm going to shout, I'm telling you!"

"So do it. Those two old fools will love to see their beloved guest assaulting
their one spoiled child! Maybe they'll put me out, " he smirked in amusement as
she silenced. "Why, wasn't that what you

wanted? Now you have a chance to get rid of this parasite."

She said nothing.

"What, no more babbling?" he teased amusingly.

Bulma just threw him a venomous look. More she couldn't do, because she wasn't
sure if she could control her mouth. He was almost naked over her, and the
bandages covering him partially weren't enough to keep his warmth and scent from
assaulting her senses, with an intensity much stronger than when she had just
helped him to walk. She felt like she was completely undressed, her blood
running up to her face in a wave of heat and shame. Then she noticed that Vegeta
was getting red, too. He shifted and leaned his weight on his elbows, raising
his body enough to diminish the contact but not to let her go. That calmed her
down.

She was completely vulnerable in his hands, she knew it; he could do anything he
liked to her and even if her mother or someone else appeared there they could do
nothing to stop him.

But he wouldn't.

She almost smiled in amusement, by realizing that she actually trusted in the
last creature in the universe to deserve trust. Her absence of fear seemed to
irritate Vegeta, because he went on with impatience:

"You called me a parasite, but if I'm causing you any distress it's only your
fault. You knew the way I am, and still you invited me along with the Grand
Namek Circus; no one has forced you, just as as no one has forced you to save my
life."

"I would have done the same for Goku or Yamcha!"

"Don't lie! " he yelled at her face, "I have been watching you and I know you're
nothing like your stupid parents or the rest of Kakarott's friends. You're vain,
boorish and self-centered, as much as..." he

would say as much as I, but corrected it in time "...almost as a Saiyan. Why
would someone like you to risk your treasured life and for me?"

He was tense. Bulma could feel it in his muscles, even though he was no longer
leaning on her. His heart thundered against the wall of his chest, his muscles
hardened and his teeth so clenched that they seemed about to crack. Only his
eyes remained the same, but the slight twitch in his eyebrows betrayed his
anxiety. Suddenly, Bulma wished to feel again that chest against hers and touch
those muscles and that stony face. To caress them until they relaxed, to make
him understand he had

no reason to be like this...

So close, still so far away...

As though Vegeta felt what she was thinking, the expression in his eyes softened
a bit. He bent his head, almost brushing his face on hers.

"Answer me, Bulma," he insisted. His voice was still little rough, but sounded
more like a beg than an order.

Bulma... he had called her by her name. He said he never named those who weren't
worth it; so that meant she was worthy now? Why?

And why did he need so much to know? If her opinions or her presence make no
difference to him? He said that the whole time. Or...

A crazy thought struck her brain like a lightning.

Could he... could it be?

"Will you die in three years? ... almost as a Saiyan. I've been watching you...
I've been watching you... I've been watching you..."

Did he actually care about her?

Bulma's lips opened, but something still held her back.

"He's playing with you," whispered a little voice in her mind, "He's using you
the same way he used your friends or your parents. RememberVegeta is: a
heartless, cold-blooded killer," although the voice was hers, Bulma felt like
she was seeing Yamcha speaking these words.

"But he does have a heart," she retorted mentally, thinking of Vegeta's outburst
before. His pain had been too real to be pretended. And if he was able to feel
pain then he had feelings, even if they were only selfish ones.

"And you think that someone so selfish could have feelings for anyone beyond
himself?" asked the voice with scorn.

A vision of Vegeta laughing at her pathetic feelings for him appeared in front
of Bulma's eyes and put her blood to boil. How could she think, even for a
second, that he ...?

No. She wouldn't be like this. She could be not Saiyan, but she had her pride,
too.

"Are you dreaming, woman? I'm not hanging over you the whole day," the Saiyan's
voice brought her back.

The image of the laughing Vegeta melted away to be replaced by his real, usual
scowl. One way or another, it looked equally for Bulma.

She pressed her lips tight.

Vegeta noticed the sudden change in her expression. If he got a little confused,
he didn't show it.

"You want to know the reason for my concern about you, do you?"

Bulma asked in the iciest tone of voice she could produce.

Vegeta didn't respond, but his eyes said yes.

"Because no one else does, that's all. Not even you. I think's so sad to live
like this, without anyone who cares if you live or die. It's that simple."

Vegeta pulled back as she had smacked his face. Even though his face remained
expressionless, Bulma had a strange feeling, like something had closed inside
him.

"Of course. Pity. I should have known." He pushed her down. Bulma landed on her
backsidefor the third time that day, she thought as she rubbed her sore rear.

He continued in an expressionless voice:

"I was wrong: you're just like the rest of Kakarott's friends, filled with this
sickening Earthling kindness." Each word of his was heavy with disdain "Get out
here and never talk to me again. And tell your father I want the Gravity Room
fixed for tomorrow without a sound system or any other junk he wants to put in
it!"

"No way!" Bulma leapt to her feet and stood in front of the bed, hands on hips.
"As your hostess, I forbid you to use that chamber until you're completely
healed! Understood? I forbid... " a light flashed

past the corner of her eye and she heard a soft rumble at her back.

Bulma turned around. Her eyes widened in disbelief. At the wall opposite to her
there was now a smoking hole, a little wider than a baseball ball, a few
centimeters from her head.

"Are you crazy? " she turned at the Saiyan, her eyes sparkling angrily. "You
could have killed me!" then her eyes widened again.

Vegeta was seated on his bed, a new ki ball in his hand and a smirk on his
face.

"The next is yours," he said simply.

Bulma gathered all the strength she had on her wobbly legs to burst like a
rocket through the door. After she was gone, Vegeta let himself fall on his back
on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. Suddenly his body seemed to had been
drained of all strength.

"Idiot..." he muttered, unsure if it was for Bulma or for himself.

Meanwhile, Bulma darted through the corridor without even noticing where she was
going. A yell alerted her and she saw her mother coming in her direction,
carrying the promised soup in a bowl on a tray. Bulma tried to stop, but it was
too late.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" they yelled in chorus.

If the next events had happened in a movie, they'd certaily had been shown in
slow-motion. A second before the encounter, Bulma's mother still lifted her arms
up in an attempt to save the soup; however, when Bulma hit her, both the tray
and the bowl flew from her hands. The bowl sommersaulted a double Olympic twist
in the air as it spilled all its content over the two women (luckily it wasn't
very hot) before it exploded in shards against the floor.

SSPLASSHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHHH! CLINK! CLINK!

"Oh heavens!" Mrs. Briefs put both hands to her head, getting angry for once.
"Bulma Briefs! What you..." she turned to scold her daughter. Seeing that she
was shaking however, the concern fast took

place of the anger. "What happened, dearest? You're white! Something wrong with
Vegeta?"

"W-well, sort of," Bulma managed to blurt out, still trembling. Her arm ached
where Vegeta had grabbed her and it was probably already getting purple.
Fortunately her dress was long-sleeved; otherwise, she would have to give her
mother some explanations she didn't want to.

"Oh dear. I told you to leave him alone. Vegeta's such a sensitive boy and you
hurt him too much. You really shouldn't have said all those horrible things."

"What!" Bulma's eyes opened wide. "I hurt him! Listen, mom..." then she saw the
soup on her mother's clothes and hair, the floor, the corridor, and trailed off.
Part of her anger melted away. All

she wanted now was to hide herself to cry alone somewhere else.

"I'm sorry, Mom. Didn't want to cause this mess. But you don't need to worry
about Vegeta, believe me. He's okay - more than I would like" she added
begrudgingly "And you don't need to bring him more soup; he told me himself he
wasn't hungry anymore!"

A yell from his room proved the lie in her words:

"Womaan! Blonde woman from Earth! Where's my food?"

Mrs. Briefs gave a confused glance toward the room, then to her daughter and
smiled:

"Seems he's changed his mind. Isn't it wonderful? I'm gonna go get him another
bowl."

Bulma clenched her teeth in anger. It wasn't enough that bastard had spoiled her
dress, threatened to kill and probably rape her, no, he had to put her parents
against her, too!

Then, her eyes suddenly sparked. She had an idea.

"Wait, mommy," she stopped her with a gentle smile, "I'll get it for you. I'll
get a broom and a cloth to clean this, too." Then she left by the corridor,
rubbing her hands deviously.

Mrs. Briefs stood watching her daughter go and shook her head.

"That girl... She won't admit it, but she's in love again," she said with a grin
as she bent down to gather the pieces of china.



            Kapitel 3: Saiyans are from Mars, Women are from Venus
            ------------------------------------------------------


Saiyans are from Mars, Women are from Venus

After shooing Bulma away, Vegeta wondered if he hadn't crossed the line. As much
humiliating as it was to admit, she was right: he really lived there out of
charity. The simple fact of those people accepting him back after he had stolen
their ship was unbelievable; this time, however, they certainly wouldn’t be so
forgiving. Of course, he could threaten to kill them if they tried to put him
out, but Vegeta didn't believe they would take him seriously. At least, not the
woman or her moronic excuse for a mother.

But the moronic excuse appeared by next with the promised soup, babbling
cheerfully as if nothing had happened. The hole at the wall rendered nothing
beyond an absent look and a comment that the termites were probably attacking
again and that she would have to call that handsome boy from the terminating
service. At this, Vegeta began to relax. The woman had no guts to turn him in.
He should have known. Despite her bravado, she was as cowardly as the rest of
her weak-blooded race. He smirked, feeling a mixture of disdain and deception.

Next morning, he woke up at the 5:00, a little earlier than his usual. Thanks to
the indiscreet "old" blonde, he knew that Bulma wasn’t exactly a morning
person, so he would take one extra hour to train before she was up and in his
hair.

At least that was what he thought. He had just switched the machine on when the
holographic screen appeared showing a sleepy-faced, blinking Bulma.

"Good morning, Vegeta" she said at the middle of a yawn "You're really early
today."

The Saiyan widened up his eyes. That woman was the entire Ginyu Troop in one
person!

"You slept there?" he asked irritably. She nodded and yawned again.

"I knew you would come despite my warnings, so I got up a little earlier too,
but… (yawn) I fell asleep again. Luckily I had installed an alarm to wake me
as soon as you turned the machine on. You should rest a little more before
coming back to train, Vegeta. Maybe tomorrow..."

"I'm not interested in your opinions. Why won't you go and hassle your
boyfriend, if you still have one?"

Bulma’s blue eyes stung.

"You asked for this!"

He saw her open her mouth wide, spray something in her throat, make a gurgle
sound, and finally take a deep breath. Then, she started yelling with all her
lungs:

"PEEEE...PEE,PEE, PEE, PEEEE..."

The Saiyan stared at her in complete bewilderment.

What she was doing now?

“PEEE….PEE, PEE, PEE, PEE….”

Suddenly, his legs started to entwine onto each other, moved by a very unusual
feeling that assaulted his body. It was a sort of pain he never had felt
before.

"W-what's this?"

The response soon became obvious. Vegeta literally flew towards the restroom in
the ship, and if it wasn't his super-velocity it would had been too late.

His howls could be heard outside of the ship:

"#$HELL&(WOMAN! & (WHEN I'LL GET YOU! AAAAARRRGH!"

He yelled so much and so loud that Bulma’s parents woke up and came to see
what was happening. They found their daughter in the laboratory, rolling on the
floor and holding her belly as she cackled hysterically.

"But... what is Vegeta doing now?” asked the doctor.

"H-he is... he's having a pretty bellyache!" Bulma barely could breathe from
laughing so much, let alone to talk.

"Oh poor little thing” said Mrs. Briefs "Did he eat something wrong?”

For the couple's puzzlement, her question just increased Bulma’s laughs.

A few minutes later, Vegeta, red with fury and shame, came back fuming and
sending smoke from every hole in his head. At the holographic screen, Bulma
calmly read a fashion magazine.

"What have you done to me, you bitch?" he demanded.

"Bitch? Watch your mouth, Saiyan. I am a lady!"

"You're worse than a bitch! What kind of magic was that?"

"Do you like it? It's an old invention of mine. I call it Pee Pee Candy. I
slipped one in your soup yesterday."

"You messed with my soup? That explains why it tasted so terrible!"

Bulma ignored the insult.

"Since you won't listen I had to make something drastic. The Pee Pee Candy’ll
give you a bellyache every time I’ll shout pee-pee. If you don't want me to do
it again, you’d better settle down and rest. Tomorrow you may train again, if
your wounds are better."

"Who do you think you are to tell me what to do or not..."

"Pee, pee, peee..." she said mockingly.

Vegeta tossed a ki ball at the hologram before he ran back to the bathroom.

He was wrong: that woman wasn't the Ginyu Troop.

She was Freeza.

They didn't exchange a word for the rest of the morning.

On one hand, Bulma was happy with the success of her plan; on the other, this
same success started to get on her nerves. After recomposing himself, Vegeta had
threatened to kill her again and called her a lot of ungodly names: he simply
didn’t understand that was for his own good. Then, since that didn’t work,
he adopted the tactic of silent terrorism, by crossing his arms and scoring the
walls of wherever she was passing by and shooting her murderous looks. Bulma
pretended not to notice it, but she shrunk inwardly.

The lunch was something close to an ordeal. They both ate in silence, with
Vegeta occasionally looking up to glare at Bulma, who seemed very fascinated by
her own food. Between them, the Dr. Briefs tried unsuccessfully to pull some
talk, puzzled at such a gloomy mood at table. Only his wife kept talking in her
bubbly usual way as she didn’t notice anything:

"Why did you wrap this cloth on your arm, honey?" Vegeta suddenly heard the
elder woman ask. He didn't pay any attention. If he had, however, he could have
seen his blue-eyed tormentor flush slightly:

"What, this? I- I... I hurt myself yesterday. I took a spill, that's all. But
this color matches greatly with my new dress, doesn't it? " she said with a
forced grin "I think I'm gonna release a new fashion!"

Her father gave her a concerned look.

"Maybe it'll be better if you'll not work today, dear." he said.

"But dad, it's just a... "Bulma started to say, but she gave in and sunk her
shoulders. Inwardly, she felt like smacking on herself. As she had previewed,
Vegeta’s grasp had produced a horrible purple bruise on her arm, which would
take weeks to fade away entirely. No one had noticed it the previous day because
she had worn a long-sleeved dress the whole time; today, however, it was too hot
to do the same without causing suspicion, so she had no way but wrapping a
bandana over the bruise. She thought about telling her parents the truth, but
her tongue refused to move. Damn it, why did she keep protecting that ungrateful
asshole?

"Huh? What did you say, mom?"

"I asked why you and Vegeta won’t take a day-off.” Said the blonde woman “
You could have a picnic together..." she stopped by noticing the two murderous
stares directed at her, from the opposite sides of the table, and opened her
eyes in puzzlement "Did I say something wrong?”

Dr. Briefs tried to calm down the mood:

"Your mother made a great suggestion, Bulma. You could go to the movie with that
boyfriend of yours...”he made an effort to remember the name “…Yamcha. By
the way, where is he? That’s twice we haven’t seen him for lunch, he and
that cute little blue cat …ouch!” he felt something sharp plunging in his
skin and whipped his head aside. From its perch at the doctor’s shoulder,
Scratch, his small black cat, stared at him with visible jealousy. The old man
gave him a reassuring smile and a tiny bit of his beef.

After his resurrection, Yamcha had moved back to the Capsule Corp and joined
Pual and Oolong. When Vegeta returned from the space and Bulma invited him back,
too, the cowardly pig had fled to Kameroshi’s house, but Yamcha and Pual had
stayed bravely in the house, despite the little cat’s misgivings. Inwardly,
Bulma suspected that Yamcha wanted to protect her. Ha! She could tell him he was
wasting his time. Vegeta never would look at a woman unless she had black spiked
hair, a tail and a permanent scowl.

At her father’s mention about her still boyfriend, however, Bulma realized
that she hadn’t given him a single thought since the Gravity Room had
exploded. She felt a pang of guilt.

“Funny, Dad, now you said that I haven’t seen Yamcha for a good while.
You’re saying he and Pual haven’t come for lunch since yesterday? Even to
dinner?”

"None of them, honey." her mother laughed "It’s just..."

Vegeta stood up, for the Briefs’ surprise. Usually, he never left the table
before cleaning up his fourth plate of food (and he was just on his second ).

"Why are you going, Vegeta? " asked Mrs. Briefs "You hadn't finished your
lunch."

"Your empty talking is turning my stomach." he snorted "I’ll get some air...
though this is not of your business."

Bulma stood up, too.

“Some air my foot!” she yelled at him“ You’re going back to train until
you’ll be almost dead again, that’s what you’re planning to do! Well, give
it up, cause you’re not going anywhere until you’re completely healed!”

“And what are you going to do?” he sneered “To fly after me screaming
pee-pee with a loudspeaker?”

Bulma started to open her mouth, but noticed her parents staring at her and
closed it again. She couldn’t use her power in front of them, and gave him a
glare of frustration. Vegeta smirked at her and left. She slumped back on her
chair, her appetite completely lost.

“What’s Vegeta talking about, honey?” asked Dr. Briefs.

“Oh nothing, dad. It’s a Vegeta’s thing . “she played with a small piece
of noodle “ You know he’s a little touched in his head. What you were saying
about Yamcha, mom?”

At the streets next to the Capsule Corp, several people turned and yelped,
scared with a sudden wind storm that hadn’t been announced by the
meteorologists. A lady that left the beauty parlor found herself only in
undergarments at the middle of the street, and worse, with her fancy 70 zeni
hairstyle completely ruined. Newspapers, purses, hats and many other objects
were found by their owners (or others) in the most odd places. A worried mother
found her baby boy cheerfully shredding some daisies in a flower box where he
had been swept from her arms.

At the same way it appeared, the windstorm left the city, seeding surprises and
distress on its way. It flied over a river, pushing a lot of fishes to the
earth, for the glee of some impoverished families that lived around. A couple of
pterodactyls that were cheerfully feeding their baby chicks at the top of a
mountain almost had no time to save the nest with the chicks, because at the
next second there was no mountain beneath them.

Vegeta flew so fast that only the Z warriors could see him now. Hardly.

Grrrr. Who did she think she was?

To the hell with that woman and her ridiculous concern and her stupid boyfriend!
If he couldn’t use the Gravity Room he would train at the woods or anywhere
else. Maybe the best to do would be look for another place to stay, a cave or
whatever, so he would no longer have to put up with that crazy family.

“YAMCHA’S GONE! Like this, without having said me a word!”

Mrs. Briefs had just told Bulma what happened to her boyfriend. Yamcha had left
the Capsule Corp. right at the same day Vegeta had almost died in that horrible
explosion. She was still so stunned and shocked by the event, wondering if the
poor dear wouldn’t pass away when Yamcha appeared overloaded with suitcases
and packs as Pual floated behind asking if he wasn’t being too hasty. The boy
almost ran onto her, literally.

“Yamchie? Where are you going?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Why won’t you ask your daughter!” he snapped out before
the two left, without even saying goodbye. Mrs. Briefs shook her head
sympathetically as she remembered:

“I don’t know what bit him, but he looked really upset… what’s wrong,
Bulma?”

She didn’t respond. Just stiffened in chair, her face pale and her eyes
staring at the opposite wall. He thought… he had thought that she… oh Kami.

”That idiot!” she jumped to her feet, almost pushing her chair down “I
know exactly what he’s thinking. That stupid, dirty-minded jerk! But if he
thinks that I’m going after him, he’s deadly wrong.” She mumbled as she
stomped her way out of the kitchen.

Her parents just exchanged a puzzled look.

“Young people… “ the blonde woman sighed and bent to pick up the plates of
food that Vegeta and Bulma had left almost untouched.

Vegeta flew for a long time, without taking directions, until he felt a very
familiar ki.

“Kakarott!” he stopped into middle- air and looked down. A few meters away
from him there was a mountain, from which there was a small house in the
domo-shape he was already used to see. To not leave any doubt about the identity
of its occupant, there were a famous orange gi and pants among other dripping
clothes that hanged from a rope attached between two posts. There was also a
navy-blue undershirt lying on the grass (too heavy to be hung).

The Saiyan prince powered down and hit the floor as silently as he could. He
could feel Kakarott’s and his son’s kis inside the house, along with a
human’s, whom he couldn’t identify. Its ki was too small to belong to any of
Kakarott’s friends, still it was a little bigger than the kis of Bulma and the
rest of the humans with whom he was forced to live. Feh. It didn’t matter. At
his level of power he couldn’t defeat Kakarot, of course (to not mention the
wounds), but a little fight would help him to quell his anger.He looked around,
checking on the yard, with the trees and the bath, and the humble looking-house,
and couldn’t help to compare with his fancy accommodations at the Capsule
Corp.

“So that’s where Kakarott lives. What poverty. “

If he was Super Saiyan he would be living in a palace, not in a run-down hovel
in the middle of nothing.

He heard steps and the voices of Kakarott and his son getting louder, signaling
they were leaving the house. He slipped behind a tree, expecting to catch them
by surprise.

“WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING?”

The scream almost sent Vegeta back into the air. It couldn’t be! Even there
she didn’t leave him alone? Then he came back to reason. It couldn’t be
Bulma, the voice was different. That voice obviously belonged the creature whose
ki he had detected… As to confirm his thought, at the next second Kakarott and
the brat broke out of the house, with an odd-looking woman running after them.
She had jet black hair pulled back and tied in a bun, and wore a dark-blue dress
revealing a pair of baggy trousers underneath. Over the dress, a sort of orange
bandana wrapped over her shoulders and a white rectangle of cloth that Bulma’s
mother called ‘apron’. Vegeta never had seen anything so bizarre, despite
having met lots of alien cultures.

“Come back, I’m telling you!” she grabbed Goku by his shirt and seized the
leg of Gohan, who had already begun to float. “Who taught you two to leave the
table before finishing to eat! Come back inside, it’s almost Gohan’s
studying time. (For her, every time is Gohan’s studying time ’ ).

“But mom,” Gohan whimpered “We’ve got no time for this now! Mr.
Piccolo‘s waiting for us.

”Let him wait! I gave you my permission to train, alright, (and I’ll regret
that my entire life) but it doesn’t mean I’m going to have you pushing your
studies aside. Today we’ll review everything you have learned.

“But we already did that last night!”

“Then we’ll do it again! And don’t talk back to me, young man. Since that
year when Piccolo snatched you away you’ve become quite disrespectful to
me!”

”You’re overreacting it, Chi-chi,” Goku butted in “Gohan didn’t
disrespect you. He just said the truth.”

”Stay out of this!” for Vegeta’s shock, she turned around and smacked Goku
on his face. He fell seated on the grass.

“Ouch! That hurts, “he moaned, brushing his now reddened cheek.

“It’s supposed to! I told you so many times to never argue with me in front
of Gohan but you insist it! Don’t you see you’re subverting my mother
authority?”

Goku took a few steps back.

“I-I didn’t argue with you! I just said…”

”See? Did it again!” she bent with a fierce look over her cowering husband
“Nice example you give to our son! That’s why he doesn’t respect me
anymore! If he’ll become a delinquent it’ll be your fault! “

“Hey, it’s not …”

“SHUT UP!”

Vegeta was terrified. Where all the women in Earth completely insane?

“Need something, Vegeta?” asked a voice. He turned around to see Piccolo
standing by his side.

“None of your business,” he snapped, irked for having not felt the Namekian
coming “But don’t worry. I’m not going to make a boo-boo in your precious
little pupil.”

Piccolo frowned but said nothing.

“But Chi-chi… “Goku’s voice whipped their heads back to the familiar
scene “I felt Vegeta’s ki around here! I have to check on what he’s doin
…”

”I don’t care about whatever you’ve felt, if it was Vegeta, Cabbage or
Beet!” Chi-chi cut him off. Piccolo snickered. Vegeta clenched his teeth.

“I’m sick of spending my days all alone while you two are out training.
You’re staying home today and it’s final!” she grabbed Goku’s arm and
started to drag him towards the house “I’m going to clean the house and you
can help me by dusting the carpets and moving the furniture, since you’re so
strong now. Then, you’ll wear something decent, for a change, so we’ll go to
the East City.”

”To the East City?” Goku echoed “What for?”

“To negotiate Gohan’s matriculation in the Blue Star School.”

”B-blue Star?” Gohan stuttered in horror “Mom, that’s a secondary
school! I heard it doesn’t accept kids under 12. I ain’t got even seven
yet!”

Chi-chi stared at her son as if he had said the sky was blue:

“Of course it’s a secondary school! Did you think I’d put you in a
kindergarten? It’s true you’re very late in your studies, thanks to your
father and the crooks he has for friends” she shot a look towards her husband
“but still you’re very ahead from the other children! Can you imagine if
you‘ll get your diploma before you’re fifteen? “she dreamily joined her
hands together, her eyes dripping with motherly pride “My son, a little
prodigy!”

At the vision of Gohan stumbling on a long black robe of a graduate, with a
large squared hat covering his eyes and a gigantic diploma in his little hand,
Goku and Gohan fell over with their legs up. Outraged by their lack of
enthusiasm, Chi-chi sullenly dragged her ‘ungrateful’ family inside. Their
voices were reduced to a baffled murmur.

Meanwhile, Vegeta and Piccolo remained at their spots like statues, both with
arms crossed and stoic looks. Only the sweat pouring on their foreheads revealed
their mutual discomfort.

“So, that is Kakarott’s wife.” Vegeta stated, after a long silence.

“Yes.” Piccolo shut his eyes in disapproval “Pathetic, isn’t it? Be
proud of yourself : you’ve just met the only weakness of the Super Saiyan.”

“Why does Kakarott lets that woman treat him like this? She’s just a…
human!”

“That is exactly why.”

“Huh?” Vegeta arched a confused eyebrow.

“Human’s weakness can be a weird, but a powerful weapon, believe me. Don’t
underestimate them.” A few more sweat drops slide down on Piccolos’
forehead, while he recorded the way Chichi had forced him to take driving
classes along with Goku. As if the Great Demon-King needed a driver license.

“Speak clearer, Namek. I hate riddles."

"I already said more than you should know. If you want more details go in there
and ask Goku, but I wouldn't do it if I were you." Piccolo showed his fangs in a
smirk "Chichi would love an opportunity to get revenge for all those times you
beated on Gohan."

"Do you dare to insinuate that I'd be beaten that nasty lousy human?" Vegeta's
eyes bulged in outrage.

"Are you afraid to try…Cabbage?" Piccolo sustained his look.

They glared at each other for a long moment. Vegeta felt like rushing inside the
house and showing that arrogant Namekian that he didn't fear anything,
especially a loud little woman. But he wouldn’t. It had to be a trick.

"My goals are Gero’s tin dolls and Kakarott" he said arrogantly "I ‘m not
interested in insects."

Piccolo smirked again.

"I'd become surprised if you’d succeed where Goku did not," he said "I don't
know much about human females," he blushed a little" But I wouldn't bet on
you."

"What makes you so sure about this?”

"Those ridiculous clothes you wore when Goku came back to Earth." his smirk
enlarged a little, as if he found his own joke amusing.

Vegeta opened his mouth just to close it again. No… he couldn’t be
insinuating…

He straightened up and tossed the Namekian a very cold look.

"Want an advice? Stop hanging around Kakarott. You're starting to babble the
same kind of nonsense he does." he said, before taking off and flying away.

Piccolo stood watching the Saiyan prince getting smaller and smaller until he
turned into a dark spot in the distance.

“Stupid, imprudent moron... Why did you say that? “he berated himself in his
thought.

At that moment, Gohan, who had taken advantage of a moment of distraction from
his mother to slip out of the house, showed up at his side.

"That was Vegeta?" he asked, looking at the direction where the prince had
disappeared.

"Yes." Piccolo snorted.

"What did he want?" the little boy asked with concern.

"To chit-chat."

Gohan stared confusedly at his mentor and best friend, but Piccolo said nothing
else.

"GOHA-AN! Where are you?" Chi -chi's high-pitched voice could be heard even at
kilometers from the place where they stood “Goku! This is your fault! “

“But what did I do now?” they heard Goku moan.

“You’re always running off home for adventures, that’s what you have done!
Now YOUR son’s starting to follow your steps! That’s the example you give
him, blablabla, I never should have married you, blabla, this way he’ll never
become responsible…”

They heard fast retreating steps mixed to metallic thuds and yelps, like if
someone was running and getting pelted with pans inside the house.

“Ouh! Please, Chi-chi, that hurts…. Oouch!”

"Better you go back before your mother decides to execute her hostage." Piccolo
said, half-sarcastically, half-seriously. Gohan nodded with a sigh and trudged
back home. The Demon King stood floating in the air, hoping his imprudent words
hadn't messed up with Trunk's future.

Vegeta could be anything but a fool.

<b>Notes:</b>

<i>It always puzzled me the fact that there are so many BV three –years fics
that show Yamcha living in his own apartment or house, when it seems clear that
he was living at Capsule Corp at that period at least before he went away to
train. In the mangá, there’s even a scene when Tenshinhan yells at Vegeta
that he doesn’t understand how Yamcha stands to live under the same roof as
the Saiyan. (True that there’s no Garlic Jr. Saga or Vegeta’s space journey
in the mangá – and no pink shirt stuff, too, unluckily – but, oh well,
you’ve got it)

I always wanted to know how could had been the first time Vegeta met Goku’s
home, and especially how he met Chi –chi. He probably must have been
terrified!  

Hope I haven’t overdone a little with Chi-chi, but that’s the way I see her.
A woman who pushes her baby boy to study like that so early seems perfectly able
to want see him graduated before he’s grown, too. I’m not sure if there’s
really a school (besides Hogworths) that admits only kids over 12, so
Applescruffs suggested me that maybe a secondary school was the thing I was
looking for. We hope it’ll fit.

Please don’t get me wrong about Chi-chi: deep down I know she’s a good
person (if even Vegeta has a gentle side, why not she? ;) ), but it always
angered me the way she picked on Gohan when he was little. That’s not a
mother, that’s a policeman!</i>



                          Kapitel 4: Unchain My Heart
                          ---------------------------


<b>Unchain My Heart</b>

<i>Disclaimer: I don’t own Yamcha, Bulma or Vegeta, they are Akira
Toryiama’s. I don’t own Unchain My Heart lyrics either; it’s an old hit
from Joe Cocker composed by and I thought it just fitted here. The only things
mine are Satou and the cruel things the characters are going through. ;)</i>


It was a good while they were seated there. On the table, a small mountain
composed by empty glasses and dessert plates had already begun to form, all of
them coming from the girl, who ate with an appetite able to put even a Saiyan to
shame. Yamcha hadn’t consumed anything beyond a beer because of the nervous
lump forming in his stomach.

“She’s already supposed to be here!” he consulted his watch for the
millionth time. As soon as he did that, his peripheral vision told him the door
was opening, and he looked up. His companion turned to watch the newcomer, too.

“Is it her?”

Yamcha gave her a crossed look. The woman that had just squeezed herself through
the door was probably 45 years old and weighed at least 250 pounds. Satou had to
be joking. But she wasn’t, and he knew that.

“No, “he snapped “Listen, you didn’t forget to tell Bulma where we are,
did you?”

She looked offended.

“Sure I did not! I even walked out there twice to check on the name of this
place. “ the pink-haired girl pointed at the exit with her spoon, spilling
some melted ice-cream on the tablecloth. She frowned, both at the waste of
ice-cream and the unpleasant memory of her call: “That Bulma of yours was very
rude to me. She hung up on me twice then yelled at me a lot at the third time I
called! But everything ended up alright. She didn’t even recognize my
voice!” she concluded with pride.

“Of course she didn’t recognize your voice, since she doesn’t know you!”
Yamcha snapped impatiently.

Her smile vanished in disappointment.

“But… so I didn’t need to cover the phone with my hankie to muffle my
voice, like in the detective movies. Damn it. I always wanted to do that.”

Yamcha gave her an admiring look.

“No, you were right! I hadn’t thought of that. That way, when Bulma gets
here she won’t recognize your voice and realize you were the one who made the
anonymous call.”

”Oh, good. But… you just said she doesn’t know me, so how can she
recognize my voice?”

Yamcha rolled his eyes up. It was really a shame that Goku had married Chichi.
He could have found his soulmate in Satou. Ah, Bulma, if she only could realize
the sacrifices he made for her! Fortunately, the door opened again, sparing him
from a long explanation that would puzzle Satou’s little head even more that
it already was.

They watched as the door opened.

Bulma had spent the hours after lunch pacing around, wondering whether or not
she should investigate where Yamcha was. More than once she walked towards the
telephone, but always gave in before even touching it. Big-mouthed as her
friends were, if she made called any of them in a couple of hours the whole
world would learn that she and Yamcha were split up again. Worse, he would know
that she had been asking for him, the last thing in the world that Bulma wanted.
She was sure that her still-boyfriend had stormed off because he felt neglected
in favor of the “cold-hearted murderer”. That was the main cause of their
fights. Not exactly Vegeta, but the typical macho mentality, which allowed a
betrothed man to flirt but prohibited his girlfriend from giving another guy a
single pure, disinterested look. The most incredible was that all their friends
seemed to agree with Yamcha at this. Despite all technological advances of
Century XX, people still think the same way they did in Middle Ages.

Mrs. Briefs was starting to complain that Bulma was driving her dizzy walking
into circles like this, when the phone rang. A chimy, timid voice asked if it
was the ‘Corpse Corporation’. Thinking it was a joke, Bulma slammed down the
phone, but it rang again. This time the voice said the name of the company
right, but it asked for “Blunt”. Bulma almost broke the phone.

It rang again. Bulma was already having a fit, and made it clear for the poor
creature at the other side of the line. When she took a pause to breath, the
timid, and now also shaking voice begged: “Please, don’t hung up again! I
have to talk to Blunder… I mean, to Bloomer, no, Bulma.. yes, that’s it,
Bulma!”

”That’s me.” snapped the one.

“Ah, is that you? I’m so sorry, didn’t mean to mess with your name, it’s
just I am, I was nervous. Look, I just wanted to say… what I have to say…
ah! Remember Yamcha, your boyfriend?”

”What happened to Yamcha?” Bulma straightened up unconsciously.

“He’s with me, I mean, he’s with another girl. Better you’ll come soon
to not loose your boyfriend. He’s a hot guy and…”

“Where is he?” the scientist interrupted with Buddist patience.

“At one of those places you always go… err, you used to go, because after
this I don’t think…”

”What place!” Bulma almost screamed.

It was one ice cream parlor where she and Yamcha habitually liked to go, but the
girl took too much to say that. The impression Bulma had was that she had first
to walk to the front of the façade to determine the name before she could spell
it correctly. After she finally clicked off, the curly-haired scientist sat and
remained a long time in deep meditation…

<i>I’m under your spell like a man on a trance
You know darn well that I don’t stand a chance</i>

Yamcha stared anxiously as the door opened again. It was Bulma this time. She
was as pretty as ever, even with that silly permanent. He thought that by the
time she had taken to get here she could perfectly have done a pit-stop in a
beauty parlor before coming. And why was she was wearing a jacket in such a hot
day? Ah, probably something she had seen in a fashion magazine.

She entered and glanced around. Luckily, the place was crowded because of the
unusual warmth of the day, and Yamcha had strategically chosen one of the last
tables at the backgrounds. He quickly avoided her look, but the same didn’t
happen to Satou, who kept looking back:

“Is that her? Wow, she’s more beautiful than I thought!” she said aloud.
Yamcha tugged at her arm:

“Chhh! Don’t look at her direction! She’ll notice us!“

“But didn’t you want her to see you with me?”

Desperately, Yamcha grabbed her by her shoulders, making Satou spin towards him,
but she let out a yelp that got the attention of the people around them,
including a waiter. To disguise it, he ordered a giant strawberry sundae, even
knowing that extra expense would put him in trouble later. The waiter blocked
his vision for a moment. When he walked away, Bulma was happening to stare right
at their direction. Her eyes met Yamcha’s before the young man could avoid it.
Oh damn. Well, he still could pretend he hadn’t seen her. He started
chattering amiably with Satou as he watched Bulma out of the corner of his eye.

Funny, she was doing nothing. He had expected that she would bully her way
towards them screaming at high decibels, then give a punch on his head or tried
to yank Satou’s hair off, any of her usual scandals. Instead, she just looked
at him thoughtfully. She even looked a little… sad.

“I wonder if I overdid it?” he thought.

She turned to glance at the door. Oh no! If she went away he would have to run
after her, and he had spent too much on this plan. Speaking of spending, the
waiter approached with the sundae, cutting his vision of the door for a minute.
When he left, Yamcha saw Bulma walking towards him, slowly still with decision.
He felt relieved, but couldn’t help feeling a cold in his stomach.

“Aren’t you going to eat this?” Satou stared at the strawberry sundae with
a desiring look.

“Huh?” Yamcha whirled at her voice. He had forgotten the damned ice-cream.

“No, no, you may eat. I ordered it for you!” he pushed the compote towards
her. Satou muttered a hurried ‘thanks’ and dug in, like she never had eaten
anything before in her life. Yamcha glanced back at Bulma’s direction, but he
didn’t see her. What?
In the next second, a voice whispered in his ear, at the opposite side:

“Stop pretending. The jig is up.”

The jump Yamcha gave from his chair wasn’t pretended.

“Bulma!” he yelped “Oh…uh… hi!” he chuckled humorlessly “I
didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Don’t play fool with me Yamcha! I noticed when you looked at my
direction.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. “ the scarred man closed his
eyes disdainfully “ I was here, eating some ice-cream with my little friend
Satou…”

“Friend?” asked his companion “But you said we were boyfriend and
girlf…mfff!” Yamcha put his hands over her mouth.

“Heehee. Satou*, I want you to meet Bulma. A great friend of mine.”

Satou gave him a puzzled look, but smiled brightly at the newcomer, forgetting
completely that she was the woman who had been so rude to her in the telephone:

“Hi! So you are the Bulma Yamcha talks so much about? You’re so pretty!”

Bulma stared at her with surprise. The girl stared back with sincere interest,
without any trace of hostility or embarrassment expected in a circumstance like
that. She was… pretty, of course, but in an old-fashioned way, very different
from the kind of woman Bulma expected to find with Yamcha. She resembled Lunch a
bit, although her eyes and her curly hair were both pink, and wore romantic
clothes in smooth colors, which gave her the air of a Disney girl.

“Thanks Satou.” Bulma managed to blurt out “You are… very nice. Do you
mind if I borrow your friend for a little talk?”

Yamcha paled, but faked an indifferent look:

“Why? We’re so comfortable here, Satou and I. I have nothing to say to
you.” He glanced at Satou for support. The pink-haired girl glanced from one
to another and finally to the half-melted ice-cream.

“Yamcha, I think you should talk to her. The poor girl is so upset, and would
be a pity if all her time spent coming here was for nothing.” She said
sweetly, then started eating again as she had done her good deed of the day.

More sweat drops rolled down Yamcha’s forehead. Man, how had he gotten into
this? He hadn’t much time for regret, however, because Bulma had already sat
and asked him without more ceremony:

“Why did you run off that way?”

“What do you mean with running off? I always had the right of come and go from
your house as I pleased.”

“But not without warning! Never occurred you that I could be worried?”

”Oh, I saw how worried you were about me, while you were busy taking care of
your other guest. Did he turn you down?”

”No, Vegeta didn’t turn me down, especially because there’s nothing
between us!”

“Perhaps. “ Yamcha gave a skeptical smile “But admit that you’ve got a
thing for him.”

”Me? Are you insane?” screamed Bulma “Just because I was worried that he
could die?”

“Worried? The only thing you didn’t for him was to carry him to the
infirmary in your arms! You’ve never acted to me that way whenever I got
hurt!”

”That’s not truth! When Tenshinhan broke your leg I visited you everyday in
the hospital!”

“But after a few minutes you always got bored and found an excuse to
leave!”

”How could you know? Your sight was always covered by all those nurses
fussying and pushing food in your mouth like you were a baby bird!”

“And you, who’ve been ogling over that Zarbon guy, when I was dead? Kuririn
told me everything!”

’I’m going to kill that baldy’ Bulma thought.

“How do you dare to question my fidelity?” she screeched “I wasn’t
drooling, I was asking for him to save us from Ve… why, that’s not your
business!”

“You’re right. It’s not my business what you do, and it’s not yours what
I do. Right, Satou? Satou?” he turned to his accomplice for a confirmation,
but gasped. Having finished eating, she was busying herself folding napkins to
make little figures. She looked up:

“Huh? Did you say something, Yamcha?”

He brushed his own napkin against his dripping forehead.
”N-no, nothing important. Just finish your origami, honey.”

”I’m already done, Master.” She showed her little frog of paper.
“Isn’t it cute?”

‘Master? ‘ Bulma raised one eyebrow. She bent over the table, studying
cryptically the other girl “Satou, do I know you from somewhere?”

Yamcha fast cut her off:

“Satou, uh... hm… wouldn’t you like to make another pet for me?” he
handed out his own napkin, which had been turned into a wrinkled, sweat-soggy
ball “Maybe a camel or a… donkey? “ he said behind clenched teeth.

“Yamcha!” Bulma scolded him. He flinched, but she smiled amiably:

“She said she has finished.” and turned her smile at her supposed rival.
Satou smiled in return.

“You’re so funny Bulma! And you name’s funny, too. Isn’t it a sort of
underwear?”

Yamcha cowered and shielded himself with the menu. If there was something Bulma
hated was that people said the meaning of her name aloud, and worse if they
found that funny, as innocently as they meant it. Now it was really the end.

However, instead of the earthquake he expected, Bulma just kept her strange,
calm smile.

“Your name’s funny too, Satou… or should I say… Puar?”

Satou blinked. Was it Bulma’s impression or she had seen a glimpse of
recognition in her pink eyes?

“Puar?” she asked “Isn’t it a sort of tea?”

“No. It’s a sort of flying cat. A… shapeshifting one!” in a quick move,
Bulma stood up and grabbed Satou by her hair.

“Aaaahhh!” she bent with a squeal of pain “Yamcha, help!”

”Bulma!” he jumped up in defense of his accomplice “Are you crazy?”

A few people around also started to stand up from their tables, shocked with
that woman that really looked crazy.

“Let her go! She’s not Puar.” Yamcha insisted.

“Ouch! Ouch!”

Bulma released Satou’s hair, but snapped back:
”You’re not going to convince me this is a real woman! ‘Your name’s so
funny Bulma. You look so pretty, Bulma!’” she mocked the other’s
babblings”Come on, nobody sane talks that way...”

Just that exact moment Puar entered the place. It could be a movie scene, so
perfect was the timing .

“Master Yamcha, I know you told me to stay way, but I couldn’t... oh, hello,
Bulma!” he said.

She froze. Her widened eyes flew from Satou to Puar, from Puar to Satou, until
they stopped on Yamcha. A silence fell over the room. Even people around stood
in their places, like expecting what would happen by next. It was Yamcha,
however, who did the first move:
”See?” he asked in a mixture of triumph and censure.

“I’d just like to know why she called you master!” Bulma yelled.

“Satou heard Puar calling me like this and decided to do the same, as a joke.
Not that I wanted it.” the young man explained with some grudge. They glanced
at Satou, whose lips were trembling because of the brutal assault. It occurred
Bulma that she also could be Oolong .However, the little pig not only was too
cowardly to risk his hide against her possible wrath as well he couldn’t stand
more than five minutes transformed. And Oolong would complain by having his
‘hair’ pulled, not pout to cry as that big baby was doing. The scientist
felt her faces getting red with shame.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized “I thought it was a friend of Yamcha.”

“You are a very mean woman.” Satou whimpered. Bulma felt like offering her a
lollipop. She turned to glare at her ex-boyfriend.

“Your tastes have changed a lot, I see.”

He showed the palms of his hands:
”Bulma...”

Bulma interrupted him icily:

”Doesn’t need explaining, it’s obvious I’m not supposed to be here. But
don’t worry, I’m not going to bother you anymore” She bent over and pecked
on Satou ‘s face “Thank you for opening my eyes.” Then she fast head to
the door, looking upon her shoulder before she opened it:” Have a great fun
with you new girlfriend. Just take care to not be arrested for pedophilia.”

The customers and employeers sighed in relief. Yamcha, however, ran at the door,
too:
”Bulma, wait! It’s a big misunderstanding!”

”The only misunderstanding here was me thinking that you were a grow-up!”
she yelled, slamming the glass door on his face with such violence that its
panes shook. Satou caressed her own face in astonishment for the unexpected
kiss.

“She’s not that bad, after all. I just couldn’t get what she mean with
that pedo...pedofifie thing. Are you a pedicure, Yamcha? Why can be you be
arrested for tha...”

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP! This is all your fault!” the young man exploded. She
pouted and trembled her lips.
”You’re yelling at me, too? That’s not fair! All I want is to help people
but nobody understaaands meeeeee!” she cried, tears cascading down her cheeks.
Puar patted on her shoulders with sympathy.

”Now, now, Master Yamcha. Don’t need to be so…”

“Shut up! This is your fault, too! If you had agreed to turn into a girl I
wouldn’t have to use that moron!”

Puar gave him a very hurt look. Only then Yamcha noticed there were other people
looking at him. In their eyes, you could read one word clearly : MONSTER. He
realized the impression he must be causing: Bulma storming off , Satou melting
in tears and Puar looking about to cry, too. But that had never been his
intention.

“What are you looking at?” he snapped “It’s not my fault! I... oh, damn
it!” and with that he ran after his girlfriend. At least he hoped she still
was.

Fuming, Bulma marched her way through the street in a way that caused people to
jump aside to avoid a collision. That damned jacket was getting hotter and
hotter, which increased her irritation, and she started to take it off without
even stopping.

“Bulmaaa!” Yamcha yelled a few meters behind.

She fastened her pace as she fought desperately to dress in the jacket again.
With that, there wasn’t a way to notice someone was coming until it was too
late.

“Oouff! Sorry!” for a few seconds, the vision of a tanned face with cold
stony eyes flicked through her mind.

“It’s alright.” The voice of the stranger broke the spell. She blinked.

The boy that had literally hit on her was tanned like Vegeta and almost as tall
as she was. He had black hair too, but it was straight and tied in a ponytail,
and his eyes, though as cold and unexpressive as the Saiyan’s, were blue. He
was wearing an old jeans and a black t-shirt, with a red bandana wrapped around
his neck. He stared back at her in a available way, the corner of his mouth
raised as though he was liking what he was looking at –and why wouldn’t he?

Bulma always lost her control in the face of handsome boys, especially of the
bad boy type. However, maybe because she was still so irked or because he made
her remember the pesky Prince of Jerks, the fact was that instead of jumping and
drooling over him, she snapped angrily:
”Can’t you ever see where you’re going?”

The stranger took a step back, a little surprised with the attack, but by no way
looking offended or hurt. Instead, he widened his smile, as if he enjoyed that
fury against him. The voice of Yamcha reached them:

“Bulma! Leave my girlfriend alone, you runt…!” he yelled at the stranger
as he approached them.

“What girlfriend?” Bulma snapped back before whirling back at the boy ”See
what you did?”

“Me?” he showed the palms of his black-gloved hands dismissively “I have
nothing to do with this. But, if you like, I can get rid of him…”he leered
at her. Bulma wrinkled her nose.

“No, thank you.” She closed her eyes in disdain ”I can take of myself.”

”Be my guest.” He shrugged and crossed the street.

“Bulma… please, let me explain...”Yamcha approached her. He expected her
to walk away from him again, but she just crossed her arms and let out a
resigned huff. He interpreted that as an assessment.

“Look… all that stuff… you were completely right. Satou is not my
girlfriend, she never was. I asked her to give you that call and pretend that we
were dating, so you’d be jealous. After I saw you so concerned with Vegeta…
I lost my head, I simply had to know if you still felt something for me. Your
only error was to suppose she was Puar. Neither Puar or Oolong wanted to turn
into a girl and I had no way but asking for my friends, but only Satou agreed to
help.”

“The fact of only her agreeing to it should have given you a hint of how good
was your plan.” She said icily.

“Well, but what matters is that I wasn’t cheating on you, right?” he
smiled, but she didn’t smiled at him in return:

”I preferred you were.”

Yamcha looked puzzled, to not say hurt. He was so sure that Bulma would be
relieved when she learned it was all a joke. She still loved him, for sure; why
else she would have come running to see him? Then he remembered. Ah, that would
butter her up.

“Wait a minute. I almost forgot this… “ he reached in his pocket and
extracted a small box. Bulma’s eyes rounded wide:

”What’s this?” she had one idea of what it was, but didn’t want to
believe.

“Ta-daaa!” He opened the box, revealing a pretty, small ring. Actually, it
wasn’t exactly what he wanted to give her, and he suspected that its
microscopic stone wasn’t even semiprecious, but it was the most expensive he
could afford at the moment.

“I know it’s not very big” he ran his fingers through his hair in
embarrassment “but it’s only temporary, until I can afford something really
worthy of you. I planned to give you this ring after I had told you the truth
about Satou.”

Unchain my heart, baby, let me be

Cause if you don’t care, please, set me free

He knelt at the middle of the sidewalk, almost causing a woman to trip over his
legs. The woman went away mumbling curses.

“Bulma, I want to marry you. I mean, not now, but after the three years… if
I’m still alive then. I’d rather to marry you right now, but I don’t even
now if I’ll be alive , and I don’t want to make you a premature widow.
So…” he caught the ring “I just want you to be my bride, by now. I’m
leaving to train in the desert and… well, if you have nothing to do with
Vegeta I believe you, but I’d feel more secure if we’ve made a commitment
now. “Gently, he held her hand to slip the ring on her finger. The contact
with his hand woke Bulma from her stupor.

“NO!” she made the ring fly with a slap “What hell do you think I am?”

“Bulma! “ Yamcha blurted in shock and plunged after the ‘precious
jewel’, for the amusement of people passing by. He managed to retrieve the
ring before it rolled into a gutter, being missed by close by a car and
receiving some curses from its occupant. He walked back to his girlfriend, one
hand rubbing angrily his no longer immaculate clothes.

“Are you crazy? Do you have idea of how much I paid for this ring?”

”I don’t care! Even if it was eighteen karat gold I wouldn’t accept
it!”

He looked hurt.

“Of course you can afford jewels much fancier than this, but you don’t need
to humiliate.”

” IT’S NOT THE RING, IT’S YOU! You want to leave me shackled to an
engagement with you just to feel save as you’ll be training Kami knows where,
to marry me only three years over – IF the Droids don’t kill you, which’s
more than probable! Why don’t you ask me to become a nun, instead?”

”Ah! Now I got it!” he raised an accusing finger “You’re refusing my
engagement so you’ll be free to be with Vegeta while I’m out!”

”Vegeta has nothing to do with this! Don’t you see, Yamcha, that you’re
trying to keep something that no longer exists between us?”

Idly, he rested his weight on the wall as he watched the couple fighting from a
safe distance. They argued too much… why she simply didn’t tell him to kiss
off? He saw her slapping the jerk’s hand and laughed lowly as he watched him
cradling towards the gutter. Feistly little thing! But so pretty. If he hadn’t
errands to run, he’d be glad in helping her to get rid from that looser. No,
let go. She made it clear that she didn’t want his help – and it was obvious
she didn’t need it. Besides, one grumpy hag on his neck was more than
enough…

”A little too old for you, isn’t she?” asked a sarcastic voice at his
back.

Speak of the devil.

He turned to face the girl that had talked to him. She was as tall as him and
had also straight hair, but her locks were blonde, in a golden-corn hue, almost
reaching her waist. No one would say they were brother and sister, let alone
twins. The only sign of parenthood was their blue eyes, cold and unexpressive as
the eyes of a mannequin.

“As much as you or better, as us.” He retorted well-humouredly.

“Hmpf. You men are always deceived by a short skirt and some well-placed
make-up. She must be at least twenty –six.”

He clapped his hands.

“Bravo! That’s my Sukie, the expert in woman’s beauty. You really should
think of getting a career out of this, sis.”

“Out with this bullshit and give me the wallet, Jack.”

”What wallet?” he feigned innocence.

“The one you took from Miss Fancy-Shoes.” The girl hissed, in a I’m –
not-in –the-mood-for-your-stupid –jokes tone.

“Oh, this?” he took Bulma’s wallet from his pocket “Funny, how did this
get in my pocket?”

Sukie yanked it sullenly from his hands and examined it with a frown. It was
full with money and credit cards.

“I think that we had agreed to stop doing this when we moved from South
City.” She mumbled.

“But we need some money to start a new life. Of course, if you like I can give
it back…”

”No. We’re both needing new clothes.” she shrugged as she guarded the
wallet in her own pocket “Com’on, let’s buy those jeans we saw in the
mall.”

Jack simply laughed.

”I don’t understand, Bulma. Since we fell with each other we promised to
marry some day….”

”That was centuries ago! Never occurred you that people may change through the
years? Besides, it was always you whom really wanted to marry. I never really
cared that much.

He was utterly shocked.

“But… all women dream to get married!”

”That’s what YOU men want women to believe! Alright, I admit I thought of
marrying someday, but that always was more a dream of my mom’s than mine.
Since I was new I heard her say: ‘Oh Bulma you’ll look gorgeous in the same
church with white flowers where your father and I got married and with the lace
veil that was your grandmother’s! “They both laughed at her imitation of
Mrs. Briefs’ chatters. Then she looked serious again:
”Maybe that’s why I never could figure myself in front of an altar looking
like a giant marshmallow just because it’s what all women are expected to do.
See how little you know about me? How do you expect me to marry a man who never
really understood me, and that thinks I am stupid at the point of falling into
that ridiculous trap of yours?”

“But you fell. As much that you stormed out of the ice-cr...” Yamcha started
to laugh victoriously, but Bulma gave him one look.

The laugh died in his throat.

“You… you didn’t fall. So you were pretending!”

“Do you really have to ask? I knew it since that girl called. Actually, I more
or less expected that. You always date with other girls when we’re split up to
make me jealous. I just didn’t expect that you would pick up a date in the
bughouse.”

Yamcha was so beside of himself that he barely listened to her. How could she be
so cold, so… so pretending? So… backstabbing?
”You pretended to believe I was cheating on you, so you’d have a good excuse
to dump me, and to run after Vegeta or any other man you put your eyes on!” he
yelled.

“Vegeta, Vegeta, Vegeta, that’s all what you can say!” Bulma screeched
back “Stop using that repulsive monkey as an excuse to cover your own flaws!
You tried to humiliate me with that poor dumb girl, so I would crawl at your
feet to get you back. Then, when you revealed the truth, I’d be more than
relieved in accepting your selfish proposal! You didn’t only think that I’m
stupid but that I’m also a desperate old maid!”

”And you’re not?” he said as venomously as he could “You think you are
the Queen of Beauty but you’re so damn annoying that no other man wants you,
with pretty looks and all! Excepting me, your eternal rug, fool enough to spend
the best years of my life awaiting for a spoiled, self-centered, boorish girl
that doesn’t care a bean about me!” he roared, his faces turning crimson.
Bulma blanched and took a step back, her eyes glazing with shock. Immediately he
regretted it.

“Oh, Bulma, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to…”

”No, you did. Please don’t take it back...” her voice trembled a little,
but she inhaled deeply and calmed down “It’s I who’s supposed to
apologize. Maybe I really have abused of you a little. But don’t need to
worry. You may leave with whoever you want or to train in the Hell, if you like!
I’m setting you free!” she turned to go away.

“But I don’t want you set me free!” Yamcha wanted to cry out, but instead
just seized her by one arm – luckily, a point above from where Vegeta had hurt
her. However, that was enough to scare her, so she didn’t resist.

“One last question” he said “If you knew that was it wasn’t true from
the beginning, why have you come? Just to throw it on my face?”

How could he be so insensitive at the point of thinking that she’d do such a
thing?

“No.” Bulma swallowed, avoiding his look. “I… I ‘ve come because… I
didn’t want that you abandoned me. “she felt the tears coming up to her eyes
and took a deep breath, hating Yamcha for more that humiliation “I don’t
want to loose your friendship, Yamcha.”

<i>Your friendship. Not your love.</i>

“ Since that strange boy gave us that bloody warning, you men all disappeared
to train and left me all alone. You’re the only one I still have seen,
sometimes. I was afraid that you would disappear too, and I’d have to spend
three years in absolute loneliness. But it doesn’t make a difference anymore,
does it?” she asked bitterly as she raised to him her beautiful blue eyes.

Yamcha swallowed too and stared back.

“No, it doesn’t.” he said in a dry tone. Part of him said that because he
wanted to hurt her as much as she had hurt him; another part, however, said that
because he really wanted to go.

“ IF the Androids won’t kill you, what’s more than probable!”

Maybe she was right, he knew that, as much as he trained, he never would become
as powerful as Goku or Vegeta. However, that didn’t mean he just would stand
aside watching as the rest of the others fought. Even he hadn’t power enough,
he could be useful in another way, and if he died, oh well, at least he would
die with honor. She hadn’t the right of chaining him to her heels, just to
prevent from being alone. But the sadness in her eyes was sincere, and he really
felt sorry for her. It wouldn’t be easy to spend such a long time all by
herself.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted out.

Her face opened up in a smile:

“Sorry why? I made my decision, you have to do yours. “ she held out a hand
“So, will I see you on the great day?”

Yamcha blanched.

“You’re not planning to go there, are you?” he stuttered. It occurred him
that maybe she was planning to commit suicide.

“Of course I am! I wouldn’t loose that for nothing! Besides, if you’ll
loose, we’ll all going to die. So at least I’ll have gotten a good look at
those Androids before they kill me too.”

That was the carefree, adventuresome Bulma that Yamcha knew well. He sighed.

“Well, I know that nothing I can say will change your mind.”

”It won’t.” she confirmed “So, see ya after three years?”

”Whatever.”

”Bye.”

”Bye.”

And she finally went away. This time Yamcha didn’t try to stop her.

He had humiliated himself, more than a man can bear. He had spent a lot of
money, more than he could afford it, just to know if she still loved him. He had
thought she’d be relieved to know he still loved her and wanted to make her
his. Women always found it so romantic to be engaged to men who left them to
fight in war or something, at least that was what movies claimed. Instead, she
had accused him of humiliating her and underestimating her intelligence. She
even said that he didn’t really know her. As amazing as it was, looked like he
didn’t, despite all those years they had spent together.

He glowered at the little ring, feeling a strong impulse of throwing it away.
But thinking better, he fetched it back in his pocket. With luck, maybe he could
retrieve part of the money spent on it. Yamcha took a deep breath and shrugged.
At least now he would be able to train without her usual complaints that he was
abandoning her. He could even go with Marilyn to the concert of the Plastic
Angels without any weight in his consciousness. Bulma hated the Plastic
Angels’ music. Actually, besides the same friends and the adventures they had
shared (and their equal weakness for the opposite sex), they hadn’t much in
common. Maybe Bulma had really done him a favor. He tried to smile, but it hurt
too much. His only comfort was that Vegeta hadn’t been the cause of their
breaking up. ‘Repulsive monkey’, he reminded himself with pleasure, and this
time the corner of his mouth raised. Three years with no one else to talk to but
Vegeta and she would be more than avid to want him back. But then, probably it
would be him, Yamcha, who wouldn’t want her anymore.

<i>Unchain my heart, let me go my way Unchain my heart, you worry me night and
day Why lead me through a life of misery When you don’t care a bag of beans
for me Unchain my heart, please, set me free</i>

“Master Yamcha, are you alright?” Puar flew at his direction when he entered
the ice-cream parlor “I told you you shouldn’t make Bulma jealous!”

Satou approached, too.

“I’m sorry the things haven’t gone the way you expected. Maybe your little
cat’s right.”

”Uh?” Yamcha looked at them as he was waking up from a dream, then laughed
and ran his fingers through his hair ”Oh, never mind! Look, Satou, wouldn’t
you like a drink? Then we could go to the theater, or anywhere else...”

She let out a crystalline giggle:
”Thanks, but no. I already have a date. And... “she become serious “Even
if I hadn’t, I’d never date you.”

”Why not? “

”When we met, I thought you were nice. But I never date guys that call me
donkey and moron! I bet that was the reason why she turned you down, and if it
was, you deserved it!”

Yamcha looked at his feet, feeling he really deserved that. However, before he
could apologize or do anything else, she held out her hand:
”Pay me.”

”What?”

”The 30 zeni you promised if I pretended to be your girlfriend.” She said,
all sweetness and innocence wiped out from her face. Yamcha made a very outraged
look that said clearly he preferred to take her over his knees than pay
something she didn’t deserve. She made a pout and looked very hurt:

“You’re not going to stiff me, are you? Cause people here are still upset
with you because you made me cry, they were so good with me as I was waiting for
you to come back! They’ll think... sniff...sniff... that you’re being bad to
me again.”

Effectively, some people –men, mostly - were already glaring at Yamcha. One of
the waiters even started his way towards them. The former thief quickly picked
up his wallet and gave her the 30 zeni.

“Oh, thank you.” Satou singsonged as she placed the money in her own wallet
“It’s always so good to help who needs us. G’bye Yamcha, see you later.”
she waved a hand and left.

“Never again!” he thought. Dejectedly, he rested his elbows on the table and
his chin in his hands. What good was in having lost his fear for girls if he
couldn’t understand them? He felt the weight of a hand on his shoulder, and
looked up to see the waiter.

“What do you want? I did nothing to the girl, it’s she who...”

”It’s not that, buddy. You and the miss have consumed a lot of ice-creams
and candy.”

“I haven’t consumed anything! It was her who ate everything!”

”She said that she had no money and that you would pay when you’d come
back.” he showed the bill to Yamcha.

25 zeni. Resignedly, the young man reached for his wallet again and peeked
inside. He blanched. He looked at it again, opened at turned it from inside to
out, then buried his hands desperately on every pocket of his clothes.

That fake, pretending con-girl! She had taken almost all the money and left him
with nothing but a few coins to pay the ice-creams that she had eaten! He looked
pleadingly at the older man:

“I want to pay, I swear. But the girl took all my money.”

”Ah, she took all your money.” echoed the man “That happens a lot.” he
nodded understandingly.

“Thanks for understanding. I... I promise I’ll pay you later.” Yamcha
stood up to leave, but two strong hands grabbed his shoulders.

“Don’t worry. I see you’re a very honest boy and that you really don’t
want to go without paying. As we’re very comprehensive, you may pay with work.
There are lots of dirty plates and glasses in the kitchen waiting to be
washed.” And he started to push Yamcha towards the kitchen. The ex-desert
bandit moaned.

“Puar, moments like this I wish we never had left the desert.”

****

Despite his plans of moving out from the Capsule Corp, Vegeta came back that
same night.

The shameful scene of Kakarot’s family and the Namekian’s gibes were poking
at his pride. If he would give in his comfort just because of a stupid woman
then he would be damned! He was Vegeta and did only what he wanted to do.

Still, to avoid an argument with the woman and an eventual run to the bathroom,
he slipped through the window of his bedroom. He took a shower and dressed some
clean clothes, then collapsed on the bed. What a hell of day. His wounds were
aching and he was exhausted. What else could happen now?

His stomach groaned.

Hmpf. He had to ask.

Vegeta sneaked out of his bedroom and peeked from the corridor. The witch was
watching TV in the living room. There was no way to go to the kitchen without
passing by her. Well, the Prince of All Saiyans wouldn’t tip-toe to avoid an
insignificant woman. He wasn’t that cowardly Kakarott.

Bulma was sat on her favorite armchair wearing a very short red dress, a huge
bowl with cheetos resting by her side (and she said that HE ate too much!),
watching TV. She didn’t turn when she heard him approaching.

“Hi, Vegeta.” Bulma said mechanically “So you’re back?”

“lt’s obvious. If I’m here, I have come back, so your question is
completely unnecessary.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She retorted apathetically “Go away, I’m not in the
mood to discuss with you.”

Barely believing in his luck, Vegeta was more than pleased to go. But instead,
he spun around. Something wasn’t right. He studied her face more intently. She
picked up a cheeto and munched it mechanically, her eyes never leaving the
screen, but she wasn’t actually paying it attention. Her mind was evidently in
somewhere else. Well, that wasn’t of his concern. He started to spin toward
the kitchen, but his body refused to obey. Idiot, he berated himself. He’s
supposed to bless his luck for her not using her humiliating trick again or
demanding to know where he had been. Instead, he felt bothered with her
indifference. Tsc. He never was satisfied.

While he wondered about what to do, his stomach groaned again, stimulated by the
smell of the potato chips.

Bulma knew he was still there, but preferred to ignore him. The last thing she
wanted now was another argument with Vegeta. Looked like that was the AMAB Day:
the Day of All Men against Bulma.

After breaking up with Yamcha for good, she had tried to calm down doing some
shopping, but discovered that her wallet had been stolen, probably by the
“pretty boy” she had run into. That cost her the rest of her afternoon in a
police station waiting to register occurrence. To get even better, the policeman
in charge came onto her, and when Bulma turned him down he threatened to arrest
her. She presented herself as the famous Bulma Briefs of Capsule Corporation,
but, of course... she had no documents to prove it, and the accusation of
identity theft was added to disrespecting an authority. If it wasn’t for the
right of making a call and for her father to resolve the mess, she certainly
would be now behind the bars.

Men! Feh. A bunch of petty, insensitive, lustful, sexist pigs, that was what all
of them were. She didn’t want anything to do with any of them again. Her
destiny was to be an old maid, she had to accept that and try to be happy alone.
Thinking that, she slipped a hand to the bowl of cheetos.

A warm, smooth skin brushed against hers. It was like receiving an electrical
shock.

A pair of blue eyes looked up to meet a pair of black ones. For a moment that
lasted years, they stayed frozen in their positions, neither one knowing what to
do. Then Vegeta’s eyes slide down to their hands, and then to the bandana
wrapped around Bulma’s arm, a little below the wrist. Ah. Now he remembered.
The dumb blonde had said something about it.

"Why did you wrap this cloth around your arm, honey?"

“I took a spill, that's all.”

She was lying. He knew that she hadn’t got injured in a spill... if she was
really injured.

Unceremoniously, he tore the small cloth off, causing her to scream in pain and
protest. His eyes widened up.

An extensive, dark-purple bruise marked her delicate arm, right where he had
grabbed her arm yesterday. He knew that humans were stupidly fragile, but he had
no idea of how much.

"Let go! You're breaking my arm!"

He had thought that Bulma was making a big deal when she complained he was
hurting her, for he practically hadn’t used his strength. Now he saw she had
been sincere. Only a miracle had kept him from snapping her arm. Then it hit
him: why was he so shocked with that simple little spot? All his life he had
seen bruises and of all species, mostly of them he had caused himself: pools of
blood and gore, dismembered, half-incinerated bodies... He never had cared. So
why now? She deserved much worse for the tortures she inflicted on him. However,
her bruised arm caused him a strange feeling he never had felt before. Like he
had received a hard punch on his stomach. What puzzled him most was that she had
deliberately hidden that from her parents. Why? Just for fearing that they’d
expel him and he hadn’t anywhere to go? Seemed obvious, but his brain refused
to accept it. A creature capable of such a low trick like that pee-pee one
couldn’t have any pity. Or could she?

“Are you happy now?” Bulma snarled as she covered her offended arm “Or
would you like to grab my other arm, so you’ll complete the pair of purple
bracelets? Is that what you want? Is it?” she shook her other arm in front of
his face with hysteria.

Vegeta said nothing. He felt completely stunned and didn’t know what to do.
The thing he hated most, even more than Kakarott, was to feel lost that way. His
eyes skipped for the TV. It was showing a large green field, with lots of white
weird animals on it. They had funny curly hair, very alike something Vegeta had
seen before. One of those weird animals appeared by closer, munching with the
same placid, indifferent look Bulma wore a few minutes ago. It clicked on him.
He looked at her hair, then at the animal, then at her hair again and felt like
laughing.

“What are you staring at?” she hissed.

As a response he pointed at the screen.

“Is it a relative of yours?”

“Huh?” Bulma her eyes from Vegeta to the TV, which was still showing the
animals. She went pale. Then she went green. Then crimson.

“YOU IGNORANT OAF!” she screeched with all decibels she had “That is a
sheep! A S-H-E-E-P! How do you dare to compare my delicate hair to that filthy
ball of wool?”

Vegeta simply smirked.

“I didn’t say a word about your hair. It’s you who admitted that the comb
fits.”

Bulma’s cheeks were as red as her dress:

“Just for your information, my hair was done by the best hair-stylist in West
City! It’s cuddling, pretty and in fashion! And it’s not plenty of spikes
like a … a hedgehog!

He said nothing. Bulma waved a frantic finger in front of his face, with
enthusiasm:

“Yes, that’s what you are! A big, ugly, hedgehog tossing your spikes on
everybody who tries to be nice to you! But someday, Vegeta, you’ll feel lonely
and then no one will want to be around. And when it happens, I’ll be there to
laugh!”

Vegeta crossed his arms very calmly.

“I don’t know what a hedgehog is, but the description fits to you. A
hedgehog under sheep’s wool.” he smirked again.

Bulma’s eyes widened up. Before Vegeta could react, she grabbed the bowl and
buried it on his head, giving him a cheetos shower. Then she stomped her way up
to her room, slamming the door as stronger as she could. For a moment she leaned
against the door, panting, until her nerves gave up and she started laughing
hysterically, her eyes filling with tears again. Quickly, the laughs turned into
sobs and she collapsed on her bed.

Vegeta tossed the bowl away and shook off the salty little things from his hair
and clothes.

“What hell’s wrong with those Earth women? Hmpf… worthless, good for
nothing creatures. “

She was lucky that he was tired and hungry, or he’d give her a good lesson.

Vegeta sat on the floor at Indian-style and began to eat the cheetos spread all
over the carpet giving occasional glances to the television, which Bulma had
left on. The ‘sheep’ animals had been replaced by a man and a woman
exchanging what the earthlings and people from a few other planets called a
kiss. He just called it foreplay. The face of Bulma appeared in his mind, from
the moment when he had pinned her to his bed pretending he wanted to rape her.
She had red lips, full but not too thick...probably soft and warm, just like her
breas... He seized the control and flicked it for other channel to get rid of
the image.

Things hadn’t been that bad. He had won that greasy salty stuff and had
managed to tease the woman without having his dignity hurt by her pee-pee-pee.
So... why did he feel that funny sensation in his stomach? He glanced
suspiciously at the piece of cheese-made stuff in his hand.

Anther thing bothered him, too.

What was a hedgehog?
_____________________________________________________________________
*sugar, in Japanese.



                   Kapitel 5: You´ll Always Be Alone Within
                   ----------------------------------------


Part 5 -You´ll Always be Alone Within



PLAFT! The fashion magazine landed on its piled fellows, pushing all of them
down and over empty bags of potato chips, cookies, cans, and an ash-tray filled
with half-smoked cigarettes. Bulma didn’t even notice it. Her eyes were set on
some invisible point, much beyond the mess around herself and the limits of
those four walls.

Loneliness. 

Boredom.

 

Together or isolated, Bulma had experienced both feelings a lot of times
throughout her life, but with such intensity only one time: on Namek, when her
friends went to fight and she was abandoned to her own luck. For the rest of her
life, that endless day would be registered in her memory as a very long
nightmare. Countless times she thought that she would go crazy with boredom and
loneliness _ and terror, too, for the ever-present fear of being found and
murdered (or worse) at any instant. She saw only one difference between that
situation and now; that now the possibility of being killed was three years in
the future. Worst of all, in both, was the humiliating feeling of impotence. The
fabulous Bulma Briefs, who always had been proud of making things happen,
couldn’t do anything but praying and hoping that everything would end up well.


Gloomily, she glanced at the miscellaneous of magazines and food with which she
had tried to fill the emptiness inside, but the only thing they actually filled
was the living room. If it wasn’t Sunday, she could at least get some
distraction at work, but even that was denied. In the last months, her life had
resumed to working, the usual arguments with her parents and occasional visits
to the mall. Even the worst depression in the world wouldn’t make slack on her
appearance. Last afternoon, she had finally decided to visit the beauty parlor.
Her hair was loosing its shape for having grown too much, but she wasn’t sure
if she wanted to come back to her usual straight style. The hairstylist, in a
glint of inspiration, decided to modify the perm instead of cutting it off; now,
the former bouncy curls cascaded in soft waves reaching her shoulders. It looked
great, but… who’d see her beyond her parents and a few staff?

For what reminded her most her stay on Namek _ the main thing, actually _ was
her isolation. It was bad enough that all her friends were more or less busy
with the preparation for the Androids, but they where also angry with her. She
always fought with her friends a lot, but the grudges always dissipated in a few
minutes, like a summer rain and soon they behaved as nothing had happened.
However, it wasn’t like that now.

All that had started when she received Chichi’s invitation to spend the
afternoon together.  With both husband and son out in the mountains, the Ox
Princess was as avid for company as Bulma. The two women had grown on each other
during the year waiting for the Saiyans, and they got along reasonably well,
even having so little in common. The visit began pleasantly, with both women
drinking tea at Chichi’s kitchen, and, of course, complaining about the
eternal selfish children that happened to be men. Bulma started to talk
resentfully about Yamcha having gone straight to the desert without even saying
goodbye, but Chichi cut her off.
“Honestly, Bulma, you also shouldn’t have made him wait for all these years
when you’re already supposed to be married. He’ll end up loosing his
patience and marrying another girl, or going away to never come back. And then,
you’ll be doomed to remain an old maid forever!”

“But I don’t want to m…”Bulma started, but Chichi kept talking without
even a pause to breath:
”Oh, I know he’s a little flirty, but you’ll put him on straight after you
marry him. (^^’) As soon as Yamcha comes back, hook him before you’re too
old to have children.”

“I DON’T WANT CHILDREN! I don’t want to marry Yamcha! Can’t you get this
through your damn head?!” Bulma wanted to scream, but, just like the rest of
the Z gang, she feared Chichi’s temper. And she also realized in
disappointment that Chichi never would understand her point of view, and
resignedly asked about Gohan’s studying. The Ox Princess couldn’t be more
pleased at the change of subject, even though she affected a tragic look. She
was almost dying of worry that those three years of training would prejudice
Gohan irreversibly. Alright, he still studied while he ate, at bath time and
before going to bed, but he’d never become a scientist if he didn’t study
the entire day, with no interruptions! Worse still, those ‘envious, disgusting
men’ from the Blue Star School had refused him, claiming that he was still too
young.

“Can you believe it? The same thing Daddy said! I don’t agree; the earlier
you start, the more chances you’ll have later! If I had studied when I was
little, now we’d be rich, instead of having to live off Dad’s money.” She
glanced around the humble kitchen and sighed, sorrowfully “My only comfort is
that Goku reminded me that if Gohan studied in that school all his colleagues
would be older than him. They would make fun of his size and beat on him (Bulma
bit her tongue to not laugh), and wouldn’t allow him to study. Oh, fortunately
I didn’t put my baby with those delinquents!”

Bulma couldn’t stand it any longer and burst out laughing. She cracked up so
much that couldn’t even speak, and didn’t even notice that Chichi looked
shocked, and obviously hurt. 
“Why, Chichi,” she breathed, “But, what’s possessed you into sending
poor Gohan to such an advanced school?” she finally managed to blurt.
Instantaneously, the younger woman jumped to her feet and bent fiercely over the
table, pushing the cups away.

“What do you mean with poor Gohan? Are you insinuating that I’m not a good
mother?”

Bulma leaned back, almost falling with the chair, but managed to fake a smile.
“Of course not, Chichi, you’re a wonderful mother… no one would say
otherwise. I just meant that there’s no need for you to worry about…”  

Chichi bent more, her nose almost touching Bulma’s.
”What would an old maid like you would know about running a family?” she
hissed, “You’ll never get a man of your own, not while you keep dressing and
acting like a…like a slut!”

“’Old maid?’ ‘Slut?!’” Bulma’s blue eyes saw everything red and it
was her turn to bend threateningly over Chichi. ”Why, take a look in the
mirror! I always had a wonderful taste for clothes, something no one can say of
you! And if I’m still not married, it’s because I DON’T WANT TO BE! I can
get a man whenever I please, without having to trick a poor boy into something
that he had no idea about!”

A few minutes later, when Goku and Gohan came back for a meal, they found a
peculiar scene. Both Bulma and Chichi were running around the kitchen table,
with Chichi carrying a heavy pressure cook in her hand. Goku tried to stop them,
but received a blow to his chest that knocked the wind out of him.  Finally, the
two Saiyans managed to get a hold their infuriated matriarch, but they
couldn’t calm her down, and she demanded Bulma to apologize. Awkwardly, Goku
tried to conciliate the two women:

“Bulma, why won’t you apologize to Chichi?” 

The scientist almost hit the roof. What? She was the one who deserved apologies,
not the other way around!  Chichi made a move to jump on Bulma again, but Goku
managed to stand between both.

“You’d better go now, Bulma. Please, don’t argue.” He added, when she
opened her mouth. There wasn’t another way, and now Kami only knew when she
could step anywhere near Mount Paoz without risking her life. Maybe never
again.

It had been even worse with Krillin, Mutenroshi and Oolong. The three perverts
had come to West City because of a beauty contest, and eventually dropped by
Capsule Corp. They were all reunited in the yard, having some drinks, when, for
bad luck, someone mentioned Yamcha. That had been probably Bulma’s fault; she
shouldn't have scolded Krillin in front of the others for telling Yamcha about
her quick flirt with Zarbon, but she simply couldn't help it. Ashamedly, the
small monk confessed that he had blurted that when Yamcha was around, and that
the ex-thief pressed him to tell it in detail. His embarrassment was genuine and
Bulma was ready to forgive him, but Oolong had to choose that moment for one of
his remarks.  

“Typical of Bulma. In the Tournament she wanted to know if there were fighters
prettier than Yamcha.”  He said, and ducked to avoid Bulma’s punch. However,
the fist aimed to his head was stopped in its mid-tracks, by Kameroshi’s
laugh. 

“Why are you flushing so much, Bulma? A girl like you isn’t supposed to feel
ashamed of anything.”

”A girl like me?” the young woman turned in his direction “What are you
insinuating?”

”Please, master…” Krillen begged, but the old man was too taken by beer.

”You know perfectly well what I’m talking about,” he said with a large
grin. “A decent girl like you claim to be wouldn’t play paf-paf.”

Krillen asked what he was talking about, but Oolong blanched and cowered under
the table. Seeing her morality questioned that way, Bulma lost all composure.

”I AM a decent girl! You blackmailed me because you knew that otherwise I
wouldn’t get the dragonball that was in the castle! But if you think I gave in
to your dirty desires, you’re wrong! That wasn’t me, that was Oolong! I made
him go in my place, but he hadn’t anything better to do than inventing that
bloody paf-paf!”

None of the trio had ever seen Mutenroshi so angry. The old turtle man even sent
smoke through his nose. He smacked Oolong with his cane, then advanced to Bulma
wanting her to pay what she owed to him, which meant, to let him touch her
breasts. Bulma smacked a chair on his head. Oolong started to crack up and
received punches from both. They only stopped the fight when they saw Krillen
walking away.

“That’s it, I’m done,” He said gloomily. “You’re all disgusting me.
I can’t tell whom of the three is worse.”

A heavy silence fell over his friends. Then, very slowly, the old man and the
pig started also to leave, just when Mrs. Briefs was coming with another tray of
cool drinks:

“Here are your_ where are you going?”

”We’re not having anything else, thanks.” Roshi explained dryly “We’re
leaving now.”

Bulma remembered perfectly what had happened next. Her mom had stood in the same
place with the tray on her hands until the group was gone. Then, she turned
around and asked, “Bulma, what have you done this time?”

What had SHE done? Why was everything supposed to be her fault? Why didn’t she
ask what THEY had done to her? Nobody ever stood by her side! Ever! She exploded
at her mother, before running to her room and slamming the door, leaving Mrs.
Briefs drowning in tears. The younger woman apologized later, of course, but,
for Heaven’s sake! Everybody seemed to think that! As incredible as it was,
people still had followed old fashioned concepts about what a lady could or
could not do. Maybe she had received an education too liberal, all right; maybe
she had been also influenced somehow by her parents, err, attitudes, as much as
they frequently irritated her; maybe. The point was that she always had boasted
of herself as being a modern, daring woman, who followed her own impulses;
however, now she realized that everyone actually saw her as a… slut. A vulgar,
rude, annoying slut. 

“You’ll never get a man of your own, not while you keep dressing and acting
like… a slut!”

“A girl like you isn’t supposed to feel ashamed of anything.”

“I don’t know what a hedgehog is, but the description fits you.”

Could it be? Was she scaring people away with her temper? Bulma never had felt
so insecure before. True that all those speeches wouldn’t have gotten to her
so much, if Yamcha hadn’t said before,“You think you are the Queen of Beauty
but you’re so damn annoying that no other man wants you, with pretty looks and
all! except me, your eternal rug, fool enough to spend the best years of my life
waiting for a spoiled, self-centered, boorish girl that doesn’t care a bean
about me!”

Yamcha never would have said that if he wasn’t beside of himself. Those words
had been from the bottom of his soul. Well, maybe she really had some fault for
their relationship having not worked out. Bulma had never taken it too
seriously, except when she caught Yamcha looking at other girls. The simple idea
seemed an insult, as if any woman could have something that she hadn’t. But
she never saw anything wrong about looking at other men; it didn’t affect her
feelings for Yamcha at all. 

Why couldn’t a woman flirt with anyone she found pretty, if practically all
men _single or not _ did the same with pretty women? That was sexism. Anyway, if
it had been really love between Yamcha and her, one should have been enough for
the other, so they wouldn’t feel the need to flirt with other people.

She knew for a long while she no longer loved the former bandit. To be exact,
since he had been wished back and appeared in front of her, all wet and with
Ginyu perched on his head. He looked so happy to be back, and so… pathetic
(damn, Vegeta´s language was contaminating her!) that Bulma hadn’t the nerve
to tell him the truth; she would look mean if she did that. So, she let things
go on. As the days passed, however, Bulma couldn’t find a way to dismiss him,
for she actually enjoyed having him sticking around while the rest of her
friends disappeared to live their own lives and forgot her existence. Only when
she saw him with that girl did she realize how much their relationship had
become a burden, not only for her, but for Yamcha, too. Poor friend. He still
thought that a commitment could save what once happened between them, but on
other hand, all that love and jealousy he claimed to feel hadn’t stopped him
from leaving her alone with Vegeta. 

Until then, Bulma had made her best to keep the Saiyan out of her mind, because
to think of him was like poking a bruise that wasn’t completely healed. From
the chips’ night on, he had avoided her extensively, making the point of no
longer eating with her family, perhaps to prevent her from using the pee-pee on
him again. Ha. Of this, he could be reassured. She had given up on being
concerned about him, even when he had gotten hurt again and had to spend other
night in the infirmary. Well… to tell the truth, she had even passed by to see
how he was, couldn’t help it, but had gone away before he woke up. She already
had humiliated herself too much, and if he wanted to kill himself or be killed,
well, good riddance! 

Typical of men! They could resolve everything perfectly by looking for Gero and
getting him before he built the Androids. But no, the macho men had always to
resolve things with their fists. Bulma started to wonder if all that Droid stuff
wasn’t a great bluff and after the three years there would be no Androids or
another threat to fight. It would be very funny to see those guys’
disappointed looks. And then, they would talk to her again. She could even have
a party to gather everybody, if everything ended up well. And wouldn’t it?
Things here were a little different than in the mysterious boy’s timeline:
Goku would live, he was already a Super Saiyan and probably Gohan and Vegeta
would go Super Saiyan too. Gero’s buckets of bolts would be turned into dust
before they knew what hit them. Until then, however… she only could wait, and
that was making her crazy.

“I wish those bloody Androids would come today, once and for all!” the
scientist exclaimed aloud.

“Why? Are you so anxious to die?” asked a voice at her back. Bulma jumped,
and at the same time whirled around, to see Vegeta standing behind the parlor,
his usual smirk raising the corner of his mouth.

“I could stop your suffering right now, if you’ll like.” He offered.

Usually, she would have yelled at him for scaring her by entering that way.
However, lonely as she was, Bulma would had given a leg to talk to anyone other
than her parents, even if it was just to exchange insults. Of course she’d
prefer die toasted than to let Vegeta notice it.

“No, thank you. Need something, Vegeta?” Her tone of voice was almost
friendly, though not completely devoid of sarcasm. Vegeta raised on eyebrow in a
mixture of surprise and disappointment.  Usually, the woman jumped and screamed
when someone appeared in silence like that, probably a trauma acquired during
her adventures with Kakarott’s gang. The way she yelled had always amused him.
Hmpf.

“Yes. I need you do two things for me. One, fix up the gravity machine.”

”Why don’t you ask my father? I’m busy.”

Vegeta just gave a look at all the mess around them, which made Bulma feel like
jumping and hiding behind the sofa.

“He’s not available. I presume that, by the way you boast your knowledge
about mechanics, you must serve, too. Unless you’re not what you say.”

“I don’t boast! I AM the best mechanic in the world and I’m going to show
you now!” She jumped to her feet and marched to the laboratory without
noticing Vegeta’s smirk. Only when she approached the spot where her toolbox
was, she realized that she was doing what Vegeta wanted, and berated herself for
being so easy to bait. Oh, was that so? Purposely, she took a long time
pretending she couldn’t find her toolbox, then when it was “finally” found
she took all the tools out and lingered on verifying if all that she needed was
there, until Vegeta finally lost his patience and dragged her out of the lab and
pushed her towards the ship, mumbling and cursing all the way. Bulma would have
almost laughed if it wasn’t for his manners.

She examined the gravity machine. Effectively, there was damage, but something
so simple that even someone inexperienced would have been able to fix it. Vegeta
watched her bend over the machine and let out a gruff of disapproval. The
weather was getting cooler, and she was wearing baggy pants and a T-shirt, which
made her look like a brat that refused to cut his hair.

“You’re not wearing a short skirt today. “ He mumbled. 

Bulma instantaneously turned in his direction.

“What’s the matter? Did you think that a ‘vulgar woman’ is not able to
dress with decency?” She snarled. As soon as she said it, she felt like
slapping herself. Great, Bulma. He would sneer and say: ‘Now you admit that
you’re vulgar.” 
But instead he just gave his usual eyebrow raising.

“You really have no manners at all.”

Surprise. Well, better being called ill-mannered than vulgar.

“You’re nobody to talk about other’s manners.” The blue-haired woman
retorted as she knelt to look better at the machine damage. “Weird.” She
said aloud “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was made on purpose.”

Since she had her back turned toward Vegeta, Bulma couldn’t see the way he
stiffened.

“You’re saying you can’t fix it?” he sneered to disguise his tension
“I knew it.”

Bulma’s eyes sent an array of sparkles from above her shoulder.

“I’m saying that it’s strange, the fact of you dragging me here just for
such a little, ridiculous problem! But if my competence is not good enough for
Your Majesty, you may fix it yourself! After all, as an experienced pilot, you
must know something about mechanics.”

”Why do you presume that I know?” 
“Because I saw your ships. They’re so small that only one person can fit in
each. If your ship broke on a distant planet, what would you do? Would you write
an SOS on the floor and stand with your arm crossed, just like you’re doing
now, until the rescue mission came? From what I saw of those guys you used to
work with, I don’t believe they’d bother themselves looking for you _
they’d probably would praise to Kami for getting rid of a pain in the ass!”
she finished fixing the machine, got to her feet and dusted off her pants. The
chamber needed to be swept. 

Vegeta restrained a smile. She was able to think, when she wanted to.

“Each of Freeza’s soldiers has to learn a few basics about mechanic;
that’s part of his training. As an elite warrior, I don’t need more than
this. “

Bulma bent for her toolbox, but stopped and looked at him with hesitation.
Funny, she was supposed to be relieved to be leaving, but now she realized how
much she had missed their old verbal battles. To find the right, lethal response
and see by her opponent’s reactions how much he had been hit; the excitement
of the game made the blood run faster in her veins, sweeping away her former
apathetic mood. Maybe that was the true reason why Vegeta had brought her there,
wasn’t it? She almost laughed at that. Absurd. Vegeta, missing her? Looking
for someone to talk to? Dream on, Bulma. 

Anyway, she provoked, “For an elite warrior, you dressed like a low-class
soldier” 

As she expected, he glared at her.

 “It wasn’t the clothes that distinguished the high-class from the scum.
Even Freeza wore that armor.” He frowned “What? Why are you gaping like
that?”

”It’s just… well, never mind. If I say, you’ll get angry.”

“I’ll get angrier if you don’t spit it out soon!” he snarled.

“Okay, okay. That day when you had to be in bed, I‘ve been thinking what you
said about having nothing left but your pride, and… I know that has nothing to
do with it, but I thought it should have been humiliating for you having to
spend half-part of your life wearing that ugly uniform when you supposed to
dress like a prince.”

”You don’t know anything about me and you dare to make suppositions! For
your information, I never wore anything but that ‘ugly uniform’ since I
crawled out of the nursery. That thing you call an ugly uniform is the standard
Saiyan outfit. We created it, along with the scouter, and we used to export them
for the Icejins, until Freeza stole the secret and started copying them on his
own, that thief.” (Actually, both the armor and the scouter had been invented
by Tufuljins, but she never would know that.)

Bulma gave an understanding nod, both satisfied for that small bit of
information about Vegeta’s past, and also a little disappointed for another of
her romantic childhood conceptions having vanished into reality. 
“I thought that all princes dressed in velvet and minks.”

Vegeta didn’t know what mink was, but understood that she was referring to
fancy clothes.

“The princes of the weak races, perhaps. Of course the members of Saiyan
royalty have ceremonial outfits, but we are essentially warrior people, so we
must be practical.” He said those last words mechanically, his mind traveling
away. The talking about royal garments reminded him of the necklace that his
father always wore, which represented the Royal Saiyan house. Vegeta used to
dream about wearing that necklace, when he was a boy… now it was dust, along
with his planet, as a symbol of his lost heritage…

Bulma noticed in him the same sad, faraway look that he had that day when he had
expelled her from his room, but she concluded that was for other reasons. No
wonder he preferred those ugly garments rather than the colorful Earth clothes
she had given him. Quickly, she picked up her toolbox and hastened towards the
way out, her brains already boiling with a new idea. Her foot was reaching the
threshold when a blurry figure appeared from nothing. She yelped and backed
away.


“Where do you think you’re going?” his question, practically an order,
sounded like a whipping slash.

“I… I already finished it.”

”Did you forget I wanted something else?”

Bulma sighed.

“I think I know what it is.”

”And what is it?”

“To drive me crazy. You’ve already finished training for today and have
nothing better to do, so why not tease the ‘woman’ a little? “

He stiffened unconsciously, “How do you know that I finished training?”

Bulma almost spoke about her thoughts that he had sabotaged the machine on
purpose, but she didn’t know how to prove it. She looked at him from head to
toe.

“You’ve already taken your bath and have changed your clothes.” She
sniffed noisily “I know because you smell like mom’s soap. If you were in
the middle of a training session, you’d be all sweaty and stinking like a
horse.” Her mention of the sweat brought back her memories from the incident
in the chamber, when Vegeta had fallen over her and she had helped him to walk.
Suddenly, she felt a strong impulse to caress his chest and bend to inhale the
smell from closer. She didn’t make any move that suggested such thoughts;
however, Vegeta seemed to read them in her eyes, because he took a step back and
started looking uncomfortable.  She smirked before finishing, “Besides, jeans,
shoes and a buttoned t-shirt aren’t the best clothes for exercises.” and
gave a teasing wink. 

Vegeta clenched his teeth and advanced with his arms extended towards her,
“You like playing detective, don’t you?” He pushed her until they were
back into the middle of the room “Let’s play a question game. Sit down!”

”Where? There’s nowhere I can sit!”

“Whatever. Sit on the floor, or stand up, I don’t care. “

At the lack of options, Bulma perched on the gravity machine. Carefully, to not
push any of the controls, she seated herself and swung her legs, wondering what
he had in mind. Vegeta had turned his back to her, with his arms apparently
crossed and his shoulders tense, like he was having some kind of internal fight.
After a few moments, nothing happened, and she started feeling bored and looked
down. Huh? What was that?

Gingerly, she slipped off the machine and crouched, hoping Vegeta wouldn’t
notice her. A glint appeared in her eyes as she recognized the small object on
the floor. So, she was right! She picked it up and put it in her pocket. Vegeta
heard her get down, but thought that she was probably impatient to leave. Those
undisciplined earthlings hadn’t the smallest notion of self-control. 

“Why did you lie to your parents about your arm?” he asked abruptly.

“H-huh?!” Bulma still had her hand in her pocket and almost jumped (for a
change) “W-what… what arm?”

It took a little until she understood what he meant, then stared at her own arm,
which no longer appeared even a yellowish stain anymore. She had forgotten that
incident over time. An impatient grunt brought her attention back to Vegeta. He
was waiting.

“You mean… why I didn’t tell anyone that you almost broke my arm, do
you?”

“Hrn.” 

In his language, that one was “yes”.

“Because I knew you didn’t do that on purpose, that’s all. I know that if
you really wanted to hurt me, you could have done much worse. But no one would
believe that, not even my parents, I think. And…” she stopped when she
noticed the look on his face. My, if it wouldn’t be impossible she’d say
that he was tenser than before, even a little annoyed. It was obvious that he
didn’t like what he was hearing. Then Bulma was reminded of the way he had
reacted when she said she cared about him because no one else would.

“Pity. I don’t need that.”

Damn bloody Saiyan pride, that didn’t allow him to accept even a little bit of
kindness! But she didn’t want to hurt him again, and changed the rest of the
phrase:

“… and, if they had expelled you, my mom would no longer make you crazy, and
I’d lose all my fun.” She smiled and winked at him.

His expression changed. She couldn’t tell if he had believed it or not, but
his muscles relaxed and the corner of his mouth rose. 

“So, you admit that you like torturing me.”

“I only return what I receive.”

His grin enlarged a little more, “So, I wasn’t wrong. You’re really
nothing like the rest of Kakarott’s friends. There’s a good dose of sadism
in you, besides some disregard for the usual moral concepts. (Bulma didn’t
like that. Now would everyone call her ‘amoral’? ) However, you’re the
only one among them that doesn’t care about the fact that I’ve exterminated
millions of races. Why? Only because I haven’t any other place to stay?”

She had really hurt him, that day. Hmm… Vegeta, Vegeta, you’re not as
invulnerable as you claim to be. Bulma hesitated, for it wasn’t easy to put it
in words and she also didn’t want to say the whole truth.

“I… I don’t know, Vegeta. Really.” She stared him in the eyes, “I’ve
asked the same to myself, a lot of times. I feared you once… but not anymore,
that’s weird. Maybe it’s because after all we went through on Namek that it
doesn’t matter that much. Or maybe because all my friends are assassins, too,
though they all have killed because they had no choice and you killed for
pleasure… even though sometimes you’ve been forced, also. But if I judged
you by the deaths you’ve caused, I’d have to judge the others, too, and that
wouldn’t be fair.”

Her eyes…it looked like their blue was increasing in intensity while she
spoke. His expression lost its impassibility, and he took another step back.

“What you mean is that I’m not that different from the rest of those
insects!”

“Maybe so. You’d not be the first villain to join us.”

Vegeta was about to say he hadn’t joined anyone, but his curiosity won.
“What do you mean?”

She smirked. “You spurn the boys because you think they’re all Do Gooders,
don’t you? Well, what if I’ll tell you that Yamcha tried to rob us, me and
Goku and Oolong, when we met? Or that Tenshinhan broke Yamcha’s leg when they
first met? Or…”

Vegeta heard all that with shock, then with amusement. So, the virtuous
Defenders of the Earth, so proud and filled with morality, had skeletons in
their closets, too! Scarface had been a third –class thief; the Triclops and
the China Doll, apprentices of assassins, and the Namekian, a pretense king of
the world. It was almost comical. And the little baldy? Bulma didn’t know much
about him, save his taste for girls and that he used to take advantage of
Goku’s ingenuity when they were kids. But also, Krillen was a Buddist monk, he
wouldn’t lower too much.

“"So, the only pure-hearted ones are Kakarott and his son." The Saiyan
sneered.

Bulma ignored the insinuation. 

“The point is that you guys always see the things in black and white: either
someone is only good or only mean. But nobody’s entirely one way, it’s just
that one of the sides is stronger than the other. That’s probably why Goku
always preferred to spare his enemies. He knows that no one has the morals to
throw the first rock.” There was a note of bitterness in her voice that
didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“And they’ve thrown rocks at you.”

“Do you think I´m a sort of bird or ?” she snapped, her automatic defensive
mode turned on. 

Vegeta hardly suppressed a laugh. He had simply made a guess, and she had fallen
for it. It was really funny the way that woman tried at all costs to save face,
the Saiyan thought, forgetting that he did exactly the same thing. 

“It’s evident that your so-called friends don’t take you in much high
count.” he stated calmly.

“How dare you! They are very fond of me! No one has better friends than I
do.”

“Really?” Before Bulma could realize it, he was only centimeters from her.
He pulled her closer, but made a face and pushed her back, then took a few steps
back.

“I’ve learned a few things about you humans. One of them is that when you
can’t cope with your own pathetic problems you get compensation from things,
such as food, drinks and cigarettes. Your mouth smells like cigarette, and
you’ve got dark circles under your eyes! Want me to believe that’s only
worry about the Androids’ arrival? Or because your so-called boyfriend never
came back for a visit?”

Bulma was catatonic.
“I… I…”

She wanted to explode, to say a lot of things, that she was doing great and he
had nothing to do with her life, and why he was asking if he didn’t care,
and…  but she couldn’t. Her legs trembled, and she nervously wrung her hands
together, like a child forced to confess that she did something wrong. She felt
like crying, yet luckily, her eyes remained dry.

Who could tell that Vegeta, of all people, would notice her distress? And, from
all, who’d imagine that he’d be the only one to whom she could open her
soul?

“I’d just like to know why nobody accepts me the way I am! Every time they
need an invention, or a place to stay, it’s Bulma you’ve got to help us! But
when it’s me that needs a shoulder to rely on, everybody runs off or
criticizes me. I’ve just learned that, deep down, all my friends would prefer
that I was different. That I was more, well, modest, and that I married
Yamcha.” 

The prince’s eyes widened, “Are you saying you’d marry that moron just to
please your good for nothing friends?”

 Why did he look so shocked?

“No! Of course not! That wouldn’t make me happy, nor anyone! It’s just
that I always did what I pleased without caring about what people would say.
But, when everyone thinks badly about you, you start wondering if you’re
really doing it wrong. On other hand, I don’t know anybody’s who’s
absolutely perfect; if I accept the others’ flaws, why can’t they accept
mine?”

He snorted in disdain.

“The right question is why do you Earthlings need so desperately to be
accepted by someone? It’s pathetic the way you’re always concerned whether
anything you do or say will be approved or not.”

“And you do exactly the opposite,” Bulma hissed venomously.

Why had she expected that he’d understand her? Idiot, she was an idiot, always
trying to see something in him that wasn’t there. 

Vegeta, however, seemed to take that as a compliment.

“A true warrior stands only by himself. Only weaklings have to stick
together.”

“Is that why you allied yourself with Goku and the others on Namek?”

He finally whirled around to look at her. By the hateful glint in his eyes,
Bulma saw she had hit the bullseye and added in,
“Or is that why you walked along with Goku’s brother and with that mustached
bald guy that appeared on TV? Oh, I forgot it! He didn’t mean anything for
you, or you wouldn’t have killed him.” She gloated. 

Vegeta clenched his teeth.
“You insolent moron, didn’t you hear a word I’ve said? Nappa and Radditz
were my servants. A good pair of incompetents, though they had their usefulness,
and they would have gleefully disposed of me, if they could. You earthlings are
all weak; you have other people around thinking that they’ll protect you, when
you actually should train your bodies and minds to not need anyone beyond
yourselves! This thing that you call ‘friendship’…” he practically spit
the word “is nothing but a lie that you use to disguise the emptiness within,
but that just makes you blind to your own weaknesses. It doesn’t matter if you
are among a crowd or in a desert:  inside, you’ll always be alone. And when
death comes, you’re much more alone.”

Bulma felt as if an aura of darkness and cold had fallen upon her. That made
sense. So many times, hadn’t she felt lonely even having her friends around?
They had left her all alone, and in danger. All right, they had saved her later,
but they were always saving people, that didn’t say that much. And how many
times had she been ignored, or treated like a child? Deep down, nobody could be
entirely understood; there would be always small differences that, joined
together, ended up building a wall, separating her from other people. Bulma
never had admitted _ not aloud, at least _ how lonely she really felt; instead,
she always had bragged about how much independent and strong-willed she was.
Still…

Her hand brushed her pocket, very slightly, but it was enough to remind her of
the small object guarded in it. She reached in and felt its cold, though smooth,
surface and its delicate curves. 

No. There was some truth in Vegeta’s words, but he wasn’t entirely right.
Nobody could be enough on their own all the time, not even him. Slowly, she
walked towards the Saiyan until she stood right in front of him.

“Do you really believe that, Vegeta? Or are you trying to convince yourself
with this poor lecture that was probably implanted in your head, along with the
rest of the brainwash? Never occurred to you to question what you were
taught?”

To question?

”You are the most powerful of the Saiyans, Vegeta. Never forget that.”

If he questioned that, it would be the same as admitting that… he wasn’t…
he never would be… no! Never!

“Why don’t you admit, Vegeta, that there are times you don’t want to be
alone? That’s why you brought me here, isn’t it?  You’re as lonely as I
am.”

“Don’t be an idiot. I’m not weak like you.” He faked a smirk, but a
small sweat drop ran down his large forehead.

She didn’t give up.
“Admit it, you were missing our arguments!  That’s why you locked me up here
and won’t allow me to leave!”

Vegeta’s eyes narrowed as more sweat ran down his face.

“Besides all your flaws, you’re also presumptuous. I’m not keeping you
here; you are here because you can’t stand to be away from me for too long,
and I just wanted to prove that! “He strode towards the door and opened it
sullenly, “Now leave! I’m wasting the precious time for my training with
this silly talking!”

“Won’t you at least say thank you for fixing the machine?” Bulma said
sarcastically, as she approached him. “That’s alright. Just one little
thing.” She took the small object out of her pocket and raised it until it was
at the Saiyan’s eye level, “Next time you need an excuse for company,
don’t leave any clues where I can find them. It’s a weird place for momma to
lose her hair pins, don’t you think?”

Vegeta didn’t blush as she expected; instead, he went white and his eyes
bulged out, his pupils getting smaller and smaller until they almost
disappeared. A vessel popped on his forehead.

“GET OOOOOOOUUUUUUUUTTTTTT!!!!” he burst out with all the air in his lungs,
literally blowing the young woman out, through the opened door. Bulma hadn’t
even landed on the grass and the door had already been slammed. 

“Hey! My toolbox is in there!” she jumped to her feet and pounded on the
door. There was no response, but she thought she heard something being broken
inside. 

Weighing the pros and cons, it was better to let it be.

“I can get them back later.” She smiled as she strode back home. She’d
probably never see those tools again, which was a pity, for she had some since
she was five. But she couldn’t get very sad. Vegeta’s reaction had been a
complete confession. He was probably dying with shame now, after learning how
easy it was to see through his ways. “Pathetic”.

“I think I’m going to the movie. Alone, but what’s the deal? I’m a
beautiful, independent girl, and I don’t need to damage machines with hairpins
to get company.”

“Ah, Bulma, there you are!” greeted her father when she entered the living
room. The old man noticed with pleasure that his daughter looked much better,
after so many weeks moping around.  “You look very pretty today! Has anything
happened?”

”I’m always pretty, Daddy. And what could have happened? Vegeta, of course!
He pestered me to fix the gravity machine because you couldn’t.”

The old man’s eyes widened behind his glasses.

“He said that? Funny, I tried to talk to him a couple of minutes ago!”

“You tried to talk to him?!” Bulma  repeated, remembering the way the prince
had emphasized that he had only had her fix the machine because her father
couldn’t. 

“Yes. I’ve wanted to show him a new model of training robot for a while, but
he’s always confined in that ship and I almost never see him here. Today, when
he finally showed up, I tried to call him, but he hurried past me without even
one look!” he scratched his mustache, confused “This boy is really
crazy!”

“He’s a liar, that’s what he is.”

“Why do you say that?”

”Because he damaged the gravity machine on purpose, as a pretense to make me
come and give him some company! Can you imagine such an absurd?” 
Dr. Briefs fixed his glasses.
“Oh. He must be feeling very lonely.”

“That’s the point! If he feels so lonely, why can’t he just put his pride
aside and admit he needs a friend, just like any other person? That attitude is
ridiculous!

The old man caressed his cat perched on his shoulder.
“Dear, do you remember the old Fluffy?” 

“Who?”

“He was one of my first cats. You were probably four or five, then.”

“How can you expect I remember all the pets you had, Daddy?” Bulma huffed
impatiently and started to leave the room, but the old man hadn’t finished.
“Oh, well. I adopted him after your mother caught him stealing food. He had
bruises and all over, the poor thing. The doctor offered to put him down, but we
didn’t allow that. He was so filled with life! Even in his state, he was
fierce and didn’t allow anyone to come around. Even you feared him.”

“And you kept a cat like that?” his daughter rolled her eyes, hoping that
the reminiscences finished soon. 

“It wasn’t Fluffy’s fault he was the way he was. When he was an alley cat,
everybody treated him badly. He probably never knew what it was to be cared
about, until he came here. One traumatized animal takes months, even years to
get over the things it went through, just like humans. Fluffy ate like a king
and had a cozy, warm bed, but he initially didn’t trust us. However, I know
that he liked living with us.”

Bulma rolled her eyes.
“Of course he did, he had free food and a place to stay!”

“It wasn’t only for that. Sometimes, when I worked in the lab, he appeared
and sat in a corner to watch me. He spent hours like that, just watching, until
he fell asleep. I ended up bringing his bed to my lab, and Fluffy began to spend
more of his time there, with me. However, he took ages to allow me to pet him,
and never let me pick him up. But I knew he liked me, because he never got to
trust anybody else, not even your mother. And he always got angry if he saw me
pampering another pet. He wasn’t like Scratch, of course,” the doctor petted
his cat again “but I missed him a lot when he died.”

He continued, “Y’know, cats are proud and independent, and they’re not as
affectionate as dogs are. That’s why many people think cats live with us only
out of necessity but I think you can get a bed and food anywhere. If you can get
food anywhere else, you must not stay here only out of necessity, can you?”

”But what has that got to do with Vegeta?”

The old man blinked, as though as he had woken up suddenly.

“With Vegeta? Nothing. I was just remembering one of my old pets…” then he
left, with Scratch hanging from his shoulder.

Bulma watched him go thoughtfully. She was sure that her father wanted to
insinuate something about Vegeta. Despite his distractedness, her dear old
father saw much more than you would think. Ah, nonsense. Vegeta, cats, pride…
Cats at least purred to show their fondness when someone caressed them; that
ungrateful Saiyan wasn’t able to return the good you did to him in any other
way but kicking you. She shook her head and went to dress up for the movie.

The next day, however, she found her toolbox resting on the balcony of her
laboratory.



                           Kapitel 6: Contaminated?
                           ------------------------


Chapter 6

“Contaminated”?



The capital of Shamuru-sei wasn’t among the prettiest cities they had been. 
Actually, if you compared it to the extinct capital of Vegeta-sei or even to
Freeza´s Citadel, it was almost primitive. Not that that made any difference.
For Vegeta, Radditz and Nappa, destroying cities like that was just routine. 
The only thing that would arouse their interest was a challenge, which the
Shamuru-jins certainly hadn't been.

The artificial moon created by Vegeta to transform the three Saiyans in giant
apes had extinguished about three hours ago. Now they sat around a fire,
roasting a small beast they had found among the ruins, probably a pet of the now
extinct mushroom men*. They also sat discussing details of the rampaging. 

“Ah, hah-hah!" Nappa cackled loudly. “Did you see the way those little
fatties ran from me? It was like smashing fleas!” 

“The ones you didn’t toast at first, like you usually do," Radditz snapped.
“You always use your wretched Ka-pah**  before I get the chance of having some
fun!”

”Radditz, you’re a whiner.” Vegeta grumbled. Creating moons drained his
energy, and he hated feeling weak. “But you’ve got a point. If Nappa won't
get a hold on his stinking breath, Freeza will no longer be able to sell the
planets we clean up. And you know how grouchy he can be when he can’t get what
he wants.”

The two warriors glared silently at their prince. In their eyes, Vegeta could
read the hate and resentment for having to submit to a brat of only 11 years old
like him. However, he could also see fear and respect.  Far less for his real
position than for his amazing fighting power, which even in his current
condition was enough to beat the two of them. The memory of his weakness
unfortunately darkened his mood again. He wouldn't be surprised if he learned
that Freeza was purposely sending him to planets without satellites. That would
be very like the old maggot, even though Freeza usually preferred less subtle
forms of humiliation.

He tore off a bite on his share of the half-toasted kill, and then spat.

“I don’t know why Freeza insists in sending us to places like these. Such a
waste of time,” he mumbled.

“If you’re looking for challenges, Vegeta, I'm afraid you’ll be
disappointed,” Radditz chuckled “Nobody can withstand the powerful Saiyans.
Unless, of course, that you're planning to face Freeza himself."

Nappa shot Radditz a warning look and then glanced nervously at his prince.
Vegeta, however, simply twitched the corner of his mouth upwards.

”You talk too much, you know. Watch out our tongue, unless you’ll want me
using it to clean my boots.” he said, with his eyes closed. 

Radditz paled.  He mumbled, “I’m sorry, Highness. It won’t happen
again.”

Vegeta’s half-smile enlarged imperceptibly.  He smirked,”I haven't heard you
call me Highness for a long while, Radditz. Why the change now? Have the years
under Freeza´s command made you forget the respect you own to your prince?”

The atmosphere grew tense. Radditz opened his mouth to babble some poor,
insincere excuse, yet Nappa grabbed his shoulder warningly. Calmly, Vegeta
turned his back to his partners, savoring their fear as a dessert. These were
the only moments when he felt free. It was a comforting contrast to the scorn
and barbs he received from Kiwi and the rest of the envious scum with whom he
had to put up in Freeza's quarters. Not to mention the humiliating quips from
Dodoria, Zarbon and Freeza himself, which he was forced to accept without
talking back, under pain of torture. Sometimes he was tortured even without
reason. As much as he hated Radditz and Nappa and had to put up with their
bluntness, they at least helped him to keep sane. Well, as soon as he got rid
from Freeza he would no longer need them, too, the Prince decided.

He turned around to add something else to his mental checklist.  Yet
surprisingly, Vegeta saw nothing but air and ruins behind him.  He called out,
“Nappa? Radditz? Where are you?”

The only answer he detected was the howl of the wind. Irritated, the small
prince levitated himself in the air and looked around as he flied over the
wreckage.  Cupping his hand to his mouth he shouted, “You know I don't like to
be played around! Now respond me before I get really angry!”

“They're not here, Vegeta.” answered a cold voice.

Vegeta glanced over his shoulder to see Goku, standing a few meters of distance
away from him, his face unusually stern.  “Don't you remember? They are dead
now. You killed Nappa and refused to wish Radditz back.” Said the taller
Saiyan, every word dripping with icy disdain. 

“Kakarot?!” the prince raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “How do you dare
to come here and talk to me like this?”

Goku kept talking, as if he hadn't heard Vegeta´s question. He said, “Why are
you so upset?  You had planned to get rid from them. Sooner or later, what's the
difference?” 

Angrily, Vegeta charged towards him. His legs were longer now, and instead of
his usual red-and-blue battle outfit with shoulder wings and legs protector, now
he used a plain, black model with a hole ripped where his belly was.  As hard as
he tried to reach the other Saiyan, Goku receded further into the distance even
though he hadn't moved one inch from his place.

“Kakarot, wait! Don't go!” the prince yelled eagerly, almost with despair,
even though he couldn't understand why.

Goku´s eyes flashed into an aqua-green color. His hair stood up and burst in a
golden light.  

“Only weaklings need to stick together," he said.  The tone of his voice
resembled Vegeta´s, twenty years older. 

Goku´s body disappeared into a burst of light that hurled Vegeta backward. The
Royal Saiyan tumbled in the air aimlessly.  Unable to control his flight, he
watched the golden, blinding radiance fade slowly into a luminescent blue
rectangle.

Bulma´s pale face glared at him from the holographic screen.  She snapped,
”See? I told you were going to end up alone. I was right! But you never listen
to me!”

”You're not one to talk, you little witch! So shut up!” Vegeta snapped
cruelly. 

Her pained expression was frozen in the hologram that melted in the darkness.
Vegeta opened his eyes. He was again lying in a hospital bed in the infirmary of
Capsule Corp.

“Hmpf. Another stupid dream,” he growled.  Automatically he glanced to one
side and noticed where Bulma was probably snoozing with her curly head leaning
on the table besides his bed.

The table and chair next to his bed were empty. 

Vegeta opened his mouth, without uttering a sound.  The walls started to
encroach upon him resembling the upper part of a cage, claustrophobically
closing in on all sides.  Even though he wanted to get out of there, he couldn't
move a muscle.  His arms were pinned down, by something like a hairpin. He felt
himself sinking again from consciousness, as everything surrounding him went
dark and blurred. Darkness enfolded him once again.

Now he was naked and cold, standing in the middle of what seemed to be a
dark-red void. He still couldn’t move, for it felt like desolation and anguish
weighed down every cell of his body.  Mingled with the sensation was the
realization of the complete end of all hope.

“I’m back in Hell,” he muttered, but there was a strange quality to his
voice. It was like it vibrated through his head. 

Once again he opened his eyes.  He was lying face down on the floor of the
Gravity Room. The reddened mist was actually the light of the working Graviton,
which he had sensed through his closed eyelids. Grudgingly, the prince stirred
and turned over on one side, feeling every single muscle aching.  Probably
exhausted from training too much he must have fallen asleep. This was getting to
be a habit. The sound of his own voice had woken him up. 

How long have I been under now? Leaning on his hands, Vegeta automatically
looked up at the point where the holographic screen used to appear.  He almost
awaited a voice berating him for abusing himself and worrying her to death. Then
he realized what he was doing and frowned, in self-admonition. Painfully he
stood up to turn off the gravity machine, before trudging toward the cabin
shower behind the camera.

Who could have guessed that the little brother of that hairy clown could be the
responsible for his fall? 

Radditz was probably laughing at him from Hell. He and Nappa both.  Vegeta
didn’t remember having seen any of them during his brief passage through the
abyssal reign.  Actually, he didn’t even remember the sensation of having been
there. Whatever form Hell appeared in, it certainly wouldn't be more miserable
than his current life. 

Bitterly, Vegeta turned the shower on. Throughout the last months he had
followed the routine that seemed to be the ideal one. He arose before the sun
and trained until it almost set again, with just quick stops for meal. The rare
contacts he had with the nutty Briefs family happened only when he needed to eat
or to order more training robots from the old man. Anything else was
unnecessary. He no longer had to bother himself with Bul… with the woman’s
nagging.  Ever since the night where she had overturned the bowl full of those
cheese puffs on his head she seemed to act as he didn’t exist. Best of all,
she never had forced him to run to the toilet again. It had worth it to get his
hair all greasy and salty from the cheetos shower.  Now, nothing would keep him
from reaching the Super Saiyan level.

Stupid.

His fighting power was much higher now, all right.  Yet what was the good of his
progress because whenever he raised his level, Kakarott was already many steps
ahead? That reality always made Vegeta clench his teeth and redouble his
efforts, until he barely had strength even to float, forgetting food or sleep. 
Unfortunately everything he did caused him to grow more and more frustrated. 

Why? Why wasn't he making any progress? His spells of exhaustion became more
frequent. Several times he woke without having any idea if it was day or night.
Sometimes, he envisioned himself in his old life, scorching planets with Radditz
and Nappa. At other moments, which were a little worse, he saw the woman
scolding him.  Nevertheless then he woke up, all alone. 

Always alone. Never, even once, she had turned on that damned screen again.  
Vegeta developed the habit of looking at the wall where her face used to appear,
to his great chagrin. But she never came. One day, he had awakened again on the
infirmary. 

His hand squeezed the soap. He had awakened all alone.

She had pretended to care about him… just to end up abandoning him. Just like
the rest of the others…starting with his father…Vegeta realized to his
despair.

His heart beat with a sudden panic, as the walls of the cabinet seemed to bend
over him claustrophobically, just like in his nightmares. A clammy feeling on
his right hand broke the sensation, and he raised the hand to look at. Crap, He
had squished the bloody soap in his anger!

He shrugged and started lathering himself with the slippery residue. The empty
infirmary still nagged his mind, though.  Purposely he concentrated, scrubbing
himself in slow motion and paid attention to the soapy sensation of suds on his
bare skin. However this action diverted his mind to another pair of hands, a
feminine one.   Vegeta couldn't help but wonder how it would be for him to be
bathed with hands that weren't his.  If he closed his eyes he could remember her
warmth, the softness of her breasts squeezed against his chest.  Yet he couldn't
remember her touch. 

Quickly, he opened up the cold water tap full blast to wash those dangerous
thoughts away. It was much easier to keep tight reign on such urges in space. 
Where females were rare and there was no time to think of such crap. He could
seduce her, of course. It would be easy, because her lust for him was too clear
for anyone to see.  Not to mention that such a union would secure his position
in that house. However, that little viper could take his weakness for her as one
advantage to put him down again. Ooh, she would do that for sure.

“ That’s why you brought me here, isn’t it?  You’re as lonely as I
am.” She had said.

His eyes squeezed shut tightly as he felt the humiliation of that moment still
burning inside. Besides that time when he had died by Freeza´s hands, Vegeta
never had felt so helpless, so vulnerable as in that moment.  It was like her
look had torn his clothes from his body, leaving him as naked as he was now. 

“What have I gotten myself into... its all Kakarot´s fault.”

Yes, it was Kakarot´s fault. The wretched moron had saved his life only to turn
his back on him. It didn't matter that he had been beaten in all forms. It
didn't matter that he was doomed to have a wretched excuse for a life, as long
as he was left alive.  This was the Earthling's proclaimed kindness: a poison
able to transform a Saiyan into a clown and mere caricature of a true warrior!
Worse still, that weakness seemed to be contaminating Vegeta, too. Even in his
dreams he barely could recognize himself, from what his mind was trying to tell
him.

"All my life I have been by himself. Why only now this is bothering me?”

Loneliness, his father had taught him, made a warrior stronger. Only the weak
needed to stick together, like worms crawling in the mud. On the other hand, a
member of royalty needed to be served, and some adulation was always welcome.
Perhaps that was the reason why he had grown accustomed to the woman's constant
presence, due to the lack of true Saiyans to serve him. 

Even when he had lost everything he had taken for granted, he still had Nappa
and Radditz. Although he hated them, and he knew those two would had killed him
happily if they could, they still respected and admired him. It didn't matter
that Freeza and his two seconds-in-commands, or even the Ginyu troop had much
more power than he did.  In the eyes of his last subjects Vegeta still was
Number One. Besides, since the three were (officially) the only surviving
members of their race, they had the same culture, and a similar way of thinking.


Was that the reason he had dreamed about them?

Not that would mean anything. Vegeta hadn’t learned how even Saiyans could
develop strong bonds among themselves, like Bardock and his team. Such things
never were spoken of openly. For the proud prince, an alliance lasted only as
long he could take advantages of it.  

At such time when the advantages were no more, he would feel free even to
eliminate his former allies, if he liked. Like he had done with Nappa, and would
have done eventually with Radditz if Kakarott and the Namekian hadn't spared him
the trouble of getting rid of the longhaired fool for him. Maybe he could be
called a monster, but at least he was more honest and made no secrets about
using others for his purposes.  Without the pretense of friendship or any other
emotional blackmailing.

“Every time they need an invention, or a place to stay, it’s Bulma you’ve
got to help us! But when it’s me that needs a shoulder to rely on, everybody
runs off…”

How someone could be so delusional? He had tried to knock some sense in to her,
but the thickheaded bimbo preferred to be left alone with her freak. At some
points, she was as stubborn as Kakarott! He had tried to reason with him, too.
He still could remember his response:

“You foolish scum! Get cold-hearted! If you had only discarded you leniency,
you would surely already be... a Super Saiyan!” he recalled saying to Kakkarot
before he slew Freiza.

”I just don't see how I could act as cold hearted as you do.”

It was a funny thought, but, on hard reflection, Kakarott and Bulma were
disturbingly similar. Both were filled with an annoying optimism and that
maddening cheerfulness.  Not to mention that their naivete was acceptable only
in a two-year-old child!   Then, suddenly, all that changed. The naivete faded
away from their faces, giving way to a hard stare that pierced through him.
Whether it came from the younger Saiyan or the woman, the transformation was
impressive. It was terrifying. 

“Those two are such an enigma. I wouldn’t be surprised if I learned that
Kakarott and that woman were once lovers,” he thought. Almost automatically,
however, the image of Chichi flashed into his mind.  
Vegeta almost winced at the reminder of the nagging voice coming from the small
scarecrow figure in those ugly clothes. Worse than her appearance, though, was
the fact that Kakarott apparently hadn't obtained any advantages from such a
union? If Kakarott had chosen to throw his life away with that creature when he
could live in the lap of luxury along with a woman that despite everything was
at least attractive, he must be insane!  True the older Saiyan didn’t know
anything about his rival’s past. Perhaps he had married the little
black-haired witch because Bulma had dumped him and chosen that scarred guy
called Yamcha!

Hmpf, that wasn't his concern. Vegeta smirked at the ridiculousness of his
thoughts. He was starting to sound like those stupid soap operas Bulma and her
mother liked watching on TV.  Continued exposure to this environment and he
might also start wearing curls and grinning cheerfully everywhere with his eyes
closed! However, the idea of Bulma and Kakarot getting together disgusted him,
in a way that her relationship with the scarred sucker hadn't.

The cold water ran down over his petrified shoulders, and over his damp hair
turned into a black cascade, but he barely noticed it. His eyes were stuck at
his reflection at the bathroom tiles lining the shower, where Kakarot and
Bulma´s faces seemed to laugh at him. They thought he was weak. None of them
believed he would be able to turn Super Saiyan.

“Let´s say you do it,” Bulma had sneered.

And, when he had told Kakarot he still would defeated him, the s.o.b. had
laughed in his face, “Yeah, sure.”

His fist clenched so tightly that he felt as if his fingers could penetrate the
palm of his hand. Growling he vowed, “You'll see, you two! Ill prove to all of
you. First the tin cans, then you, Kakarott... and then, by last, it will be
your turn... Bulma."

There was a sound like china shattering in pieces, followed by a small cloud of
dust and particulate matter. It next vanished to reveal a cobweb of cracks
surrounding a hole in the middle of the wall. The hole had the exact shape of a
fist. 

****

The door of his room slammed open, almost immediately followed by the equally
loud thumping of his closet's door. A subtle, familiar odor drifted toward his
nose a second before he plunged through the contents in search of his old battle
clothes. The woman probably had come to take them for cleaning. He wrinkled his
nose, feeling once again his privacy invaded. Well, she wouldn't bother him
again, for a good while. Soon he would return to the remote vacuum of space, his
mind clear from lecherous thoughts and of that absurd longing for company. 

He planned to stay there until the three years had passed, returning
occasionally to Earth for eventual restocking of supplies. That was the only way
of purifying himself from human companionship and to become a true Saiyan
again.

He cursed, throwing his clothes all over the room. Where in the world was his
uniform?

One day after Kakarot returned, he had received the precious outfit back from
her cleaned and mended. Now he kept it at the back of the closet like a relic.
Several times it had occurred him to demand the old man to see if it was
possible to make a similar cloth, but he had put that notion aside. Now it was
too late. The sooner he left the better. True the old ragged thing wouldn't last
much longer.  It would be better to take some of those stretching things too.
Perhaps he should try to find some planet with more advanced technology to see
if he could get replicas made of his uniform, if the Capsule Corp. science
couldn't do it. The last thing he wanted was to fight the androids dressed as a
human Earthling!

His room was now an entire mess and he hadn't found the wretched thing yet. That
annoying nosy bitch had probably scrambled his well-ordered system while she did
the cleaning!
 
And then he stiffened in realization.  Bulma never cleaned the rooms. It was
always her bubbly mother who happily did the task, or one of the cleaning
robots. 




*Shamuru is mashuru (from mashuru-mu, or mushroom in Japanese), scrambled. 
**Nappa´s bucal blast of energy.



                  Kapitel 7: The Prince´s New Clothes Part I
                  ------------------------------------------


Disclaimer: I don´t own Dragonbal Z, and I don´t own the song The Way He
Makes Me Feel, either (the last one belongs to Barbra Streisand). I just
happened to be watching Yentl one night, and I eventually thought the song fit
to this chapter.
 
Thank you very much for the recent reviews, I´m glad you´re enjoying it. And a
special thanks for my friend Tryniamerin, who beta-ed this for me.
 
 
Chapter 7 - <b>The Prince´s New Clothes - Part I</b>
 
 
Dr. Briefs bent over the microscope, his small eyes widened with admiration
behind his thick glasses. Perched on the old man´s shoulder, his eyes as round
as his owner´s, Scratch stared wide-eyed, as if he shared his owner´s
interest. A soft mew echoed in the laboratory of Capsule Corps where father and
daughter perused the strange material of Vegeta's armor.
 
“Impressive!” the cigarette seemed about to fall out of the corner of
doctor´s mouth at any moment. “It resembles a sort of polymer, but confirming
that'll take a lot more experiments. I'll need to examine it much more
completely to be certain of its exact molecular structure. And it stretches
infinitely, you say?”
 
”Well, Vegeta was wearing one of these when he became a were-monkey, and he
didn't get naked because it didn't rip when he grew in size. The costume grew
and shrank with him. That´s what they told me, anyway,” Bulma supplied for
her father. She couldn't help as the image of Vegeta pummeling around the battle
camp in nothing but his skin flashed into her mind. Luckily, her father was too
absorbed with perusing the incredible fabrics to notice the quick flush on her
cheeks.
 
After a few hours of examination and discussions with his daughter, Dr. Briefs
had the matter well in hand. He turned to her and announced, “We haven´t got
the same raw materials, of course, but we can do something similar, even more
resistant then the original.”
 
“I just don´t know if it´ll stretch that much, though,” he added,
scribbling the formulas into his notebook.
 
“That´s all right, Dad. Without his tail he´ll never be able to become a big
ape again, anyway,” Bulma said absently, now eager to finish with that part of
her plan. As much as she was grateful for her father´s help, she felt now more
inclined now to take action, rather than discussing polymers and their
properties.
 
So, it was with relief that she found herself alone, after the doctor had
grudgingly left her because of a business call. She typed a few keys on her
computer and opened a file. A small doll resembling Vegeta appeared on the
screen. His bodysuit was entirely blue, and she started sliding small pieces of
armor on it to check out different compositions. Those miniature designs were
versions of her sketches inspired by the Saiyan armor she'd seen Vegeta and
Krillen wear on Namek, and the ones donned by Freeza's soldiers.
 
"Who would have guessed I would be playing with dolls, dressing them up when I
grew up?" she thought with a smile.
 
During their last talk in the Gravity Room, it became clear to her that his
Saiyan battle armor meant much more to Vegeta than mere clothing. Along with his
pride, it was the only remainder of his origin, so that made sense. Yet, Bulma
didn't bring herself to take action until she found her cherished toolbox in the
laboratory. It contained her first tools from a young age, and she had given all
of them all up as lost after Vegeta literally blew her out the G.R. Nobody could
have brought them back but her irascible visitor, but, why would he bother
himself to do something nice?
 
As the thoughts appeared in her mind, instantaneously the voice of Mrs. Briefs
seemed to echo in her brains, admonishing her.
 
<i>"Shame on you Bulma!"</i> the good woman would have said.<i>"Vegeta is such a
nice boy and you always treat him so badly!"</i>
 
Although 'nice' was the last word that could be applied to Vegeta, Bulma had to
admit that, sometimes, he did little things that usually went unnoticed, but
still were surprising coming from someone like him. For instance when he turned
off the gravity machine to save her life, or even when he suggested a way of
bringing Goku and Krillin back, even though he had done that with clear
secondary intentions.
 
Maybe her parents were right and she was being too hard on the prince, probably
influenced by her friend's prejudices against him. Anyway, to forge the Prince
new Saiyan armor seemed a good way of trying to make up with her impossible
guest. If he came back with one of his snappy rejoinders, she always could say
it wasn't actually for him but her contribution for the upcoming battle with the
Androids.
 
The first step had been to obtain samples of the cloth and rubberlike armor, and
for this she needed his original battle clothes. Bulma wanted to make him a
surprise, which meant she had to "borrow" his outfit without the irascible
prince's knowledge. This was a dangerous task, indeed. Since their last
encounter they had tiptoed gingerly round one another. Not to mention the
glances Vegeta gave her clearly stated that he wouldn't want to have her around,
let alone enter his room and touch his possessions!
 
Luckily, there were also the uniforms Krillin and Gohan had dressed up with on
Namek from Freiza's abandoned ship. However, her actual relationship with her
friends made this possibility a little bit difficult. To go back to Goku's house
and talk to Gohan would be suicide now, and about Krillin... Bulma started to
wonder if it wouldn't be less dangerous to face Chichi than to go to Kame's
house and risk having the old pervert pursuing her and demanding to have the old
"debt" paid. (remember, from Chapter 4?)
 
Luckily and unexpectedly, however, Bulma accidentaly ran into Krillin in the
West City while shopping. Despite the initial remembrance of the fight, none of
the Z team members held grudges for a long time and soon they were talking as
nothing had happened. Even Master Roshi, Krillin reassured, was no longer angry
with her... as long as nobody mentioned the paf-paf word anywhere around him.
Krillin had commited the mistake of telling the incident to the Turtle. The
queloniun had cracked up at this, and said that should teach the two perverts to
stop pursuing young girls. The rest Bulma could perfectly guess.
 
"Master Roshi's walking stick is very heavy, to not say hard," Krillin patted an
imaginary bump on his shaved head with a forced half-smile. "He spent the rest
of the afternoon mumbling. Now there's not a day when he doesn't pester Oolong
to turn himself into a pretty babe, and you know how Oolong is, all he does is
keeping saying that's your fault because you blackmailed him. I even thought
about moving, despite having not where to go."
 
"You may stay with me, if you like,” Bulma suggested.
 
"No, thanks, Bulma," Krillin shivered at the offering. It was a hundred times
better to put up with the two perverts' quarrels than to live under the same
roof with Vegeta. However, afraid of offending her, he added quickly, "But don't
worry, Bulma, that's not against you. I admit I was shocked at first, but I
thought hard and I realized it wasn't your fault. Perhaps I would have done the
same, if I was in your place. And, who am I to judge you guys? If you want to
keep your friends, you must learn to accept them the way they are, unless you'll
live alone on a deserted island... what I'm saying, I'm already living on one,
but, well, you got it." Having said this, he rubbed his head in embarrassment.
 
"I got your point," Bulma sighed, with a reassuring look. "I wish everyone could
think the same way you do. Besides Goku, of course."
 
Then she changed to the delicate topic of his battle clothes. The little monk
looked a little puzzled at her request, but didn't ask what she needed them for.
Actually, he was even grateful to her, since he didn't know what to do with the
blasted outfit in which he had been wished back.
 
Finally, she could have the precious samples of the clothing and armor. Pity
that was a complete waste of time. Only after all that 'trouble' with Krillin,
she realized that, in order to the new uniform to serve on Vegeta perfectly, she
either would have to take his measurements (no way!) or... to "borrow" his
clothes.
 
Gaahh... even now, when Bulma remembered that, she still felt stupid.
 
Luckily, to get the wretched thing hadn't been half as hard as she had thought,
for Vegeta now practically lived in the Gravity Room. Still, she had taken all
the precautions, even making the point of wearing gloves, though it wasn't
probable that her terrible guest would search the room with vision capable of
magnifying every square inch. She hoped she could at least be capable of
returning the black uniform before he missed it.
 
"What color shall I use?" she thought aloud. Clicking on a few keys, she changed
the color of the model's basic jumpsuit. The outfit became green, and she
grimaced before changing it back to its original black color. Both the uniforms
lying on her table and the ones she had seen Freeza's soldiers wearing in Namek
were black, but she recalled Vegeta was wearing a blue bodysuit under his armor
the first time they met. She had noticed that the prince had a strong preference
for both those two colors, never choosing another unless he was forced to. He
usually wore accessories with them, like gloves or his high cuffed boots.
 
"Black or blue? Hmmm, black would look sexier. He always look so good with that
black T-shirt mom gave him. But blue would look lighter, and it always looks fit
with dark skin like hi..." Bulma mused, tapping her chin with a finger.
 
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING WITH MY CLOTHES?!" roared a voice at her back.
Even if Vegeta had said that in a normal tone, it would have been enough to
scare her, but at that volume, she almost hit the roof.
 
"AAAHHH!!! VEGETA!" her scream shuddered the walls of the lab even before she
hit the floor. "Haven't you learned yet it's not polite to sneak up on people?"
 
"And is it polite to invade my room to steal my clothes?" he snarled.
 
She backed a few steps away from him, a little scared but annoyed, too. All
right, it wouldn't take much longer until he found out, but he didn't need to
make such a big deal because of that old rag!
 
"I didn't steal anything, you fool! I just wanted to take your measurements!"
she shouted back, face flushed with embarrassment.
 
"My measurements?" Vegeta echoed in confusion. Only then did he notice Krillin's
suit lying on the table with his. "What's Baldy's suit doing here? Are you
collectioning battle clothes?"
 
"No, silly! I wanted to make you a new uniform. Isn't that obvious?"
 
A new uniform... for him? Taking a closer look, Vegeta noticed the piles of
sketches inspired by the clothes, and the computer screen displaying the various
images. He took a step and leaned over the machine to see better, then a frown
wrinkled his V-shaped brow. That ugly little doll was supposed to be him? Ugh.
He closed his eyes for a moment, as to erase the vision from his mind, and then
opened them again to glare at Bulma:
 
"How did you know that I needed new battle clothes, eh? I didn't tell your
father anything."

"And you dare to say I am the foolish one! It's obvious that these old rags of
yours are not going to last through another fight! And it would be a complete
shame for the Capsule Corporation's technology, if we allowed our guest to fight
the robots with gymn clothes when we have everything needed to produce an outfit
that any Saiyan would be proud to wear!" Bulma snapped back. She raised her chin
haughtily and crossed her arms, as if she was mocking his usual posture.
 
The crease deepened between Vegeta's V-shaped eyebrows. He had came there
certain that she had stolen his clothes trying to keep him from running off to
space, and instead he found her planning to give him new ones? That was
completely odd.
 
All his life, Vegeta had to steal, threaten or demand in order to obtain
whatever he wanted. Nobody had ever offered him anything spontaneously. He could
even imagine that she was using that as an excuse to get his technology... but
why only now?
 
"I understand that you have 'borrowed' my clothes. But why these?" he asked,
pointing at Krillin's uniform, mostly to disguise his irritation than for the
sake of genuine curiosity.
 
Bulma clenched her teeth as she feel the blood flaring through her cheeks. He
was purposely trying to humiliate her by his words. Her voice rose to dangerous
levels as she shouted, "I... I told you I wanted to make you a surprise! That's
why I asked Krillin to lend me the clothes you gave him, so I could take some
samples of the clothing and armor! But I forgot that I would need your
measurements too, so I was forced to enter in your sanct-sanctorum to fetch your
sacred, blasted uniform, anyway!"
 
"I'm sorry if that made you so angry, if that's what you want you hear! And if
you don't want to, because you can't lower yourself to accept something made by
a mere Earth woman, well, that's fine to me, because I have enough to do! For
all I care you can even fight naked if you like! I don't give it a DAMN!" Her
last words quavered as she finished the lecture in one single breath, her eyes
stinging with unshed tears.
 
Vegeta looked away, feeling embarrassed in spite of his always stoic expression.
He felt like bolting from the room immediately and forgetting everything he had
seen. To banish that absurdly emotional woman, the clothes, the images in the
computer, and forget the implications of all those pieces put together.
 
It was clear now that Bulma's interest for him ran far more deeply than lust or
mere sympathy. He could believe that she had forgiven him for harming her by not
throwing him out homeless, or think she was trying to seduce him with gifts.
However he didn't believe that those reasons would lead her to sacrifice her
pride. Bulma was almost as proud as he was. Vegeta knew that, and yet she had
mentioned she risked a situation that had insulted her, probably humiliating
herself... just to make him a surprise?
 
Even though he didn't understand or show interest for such matters, Vegeta was
quite aware that the members of inferior races tended to grow fond of the beings
among to them, even the most unpleasant ones. There wasn't a greater pleasure
for Freeza and his closest henchmen than to submit a being to the most vexing
torments, to break him/her in order to do anything they pleased, just to not see
his/her family or friends to suffer. And then to kill his/her beloved ones, just
to see the pain and unbelief flooding the eyes of the unfortunate fool.
 
Saiyajins, however, were indifferent to such things. That only served to prove
the great truth Vegeta's father had taught him: affective bonds make you weak.
Besides, the idea of a living being crazy enough to have any good feelings for
him was completely unconceivable, to not say absurd. If somebody had told him
one year ago that this could happen, he would have laughed in their faces. Now,
however, Vegeta felt like he wanted to do anything but laugh. Actually, if
somebody would be foolish enough to taunt him or mention that nutty woman, he
would have blasted the wretched soul to oblivion.
 
"Why is she crying?" he thought, noticing the wet translucent pearls threatening
to roll from her eyes. "To make me the blasted thing means for her to be so
upset after what I said?"
 
His stomach was churning, and he knew it was not only because he was hungry. He
didn't want anyone's affection and didn't know what to do with it even when he
received it. The right thing to do was to depart immediately to space, as he had
planned initially, with or without uniform. The situation was growing more
dangerous with each passing minute he remained there. However, Vegeta was the
first to admit his fondness to put himself in the way of danger. And it would be
a shame to waste the woman's trouble and time, wouldn't it? Working it out, he
could take good advantage of her weakness, and, well, she wouldn't have much to
complain, too. The thought made him stretch his hard lips to suppress a smirk.
 
"I'm going to give you what you want, woman," he thought, as he unbuttoned his
shirt in front of Bulma's stunned eyes.
 
"W...what you're think you're doing?" she stuttered, her eyes wide in
astonishment.
 
He growled, as if she had asked if chickens came from eggs.
 
"You need my measurements, don't you? If you really want to bother yourself with
my new clothes, at least do that properly."

Huh? She was already sure he would refuse, and now... he did that? Bulma blinked
in continued shock. That earned an impatient growl from him.
 
"What? Are you expecting for me to take my pants off, too?" he sneered.
 
That statement finally snapped Bulma out of her stupor.
 
"NO WAY! I was just shocked because you hate being touched so much,” she
snapped out, before walking grumbling towards the cabinets and perused them
until she found an old metrical measuring tape.
 
"That never kept your hands off me before," he teased, with a half, unpleasant
smirk. Bulma preferred ignoring him.
 
"Straighten your arm," she snapped, and wrapped the tape around his biceps a
little tighter than necessary when he complied.
 
Despite the woman's annoyance, though she looked more comfortable than Vegeta
himself did at their proximity. Her fingers were quick, barely touching him and
yet producing light shocks that felt as if pine needles were piquing him. It was
even worse if she caressed him... damn, why he had to think about that? He
already felt a wave of heat was spreading making its way up to his neck.
 
There's no chill and yet I shiver
There's no flame and yet I burn
I'm not sure what I'm afraid of
And yet I'm trembling
 
"Don't get all stiff like a statue! I don't bite.” Bulma teased with a
giggle.
 
"Pity... err, as if!" Vegeta corrected himself in time, admonishing himself
mentally. What was happening to him; any low-classed soldier had much more
self-control!
 
There's no storm yet I hear thunder.
And I'm breathless, why I wonder?
Weak one moment,
Then the next I'm fine.
I feel as if I'm falling every time
 
Suddenly, the tape brushed his nipples, producing the same effect as an
electrical shock. Caught-off guard, Vegeta almost leapt.
 
Bulma chided, "Will you stay still, damn! Anybody would say you never had your
measurements taken before, judging by all that squirming and bouncing."
 
And he never had! If it depended on him, he'd never do it again, he wished to
say. However, he didn't even know if he could be able to control the words from
his mouth, once it opened.
 
Bulma paused to stare at him with curiosity. She whispered, "Y'know, your ears
are red."

Vegeta stuttered, "And what does your noticing THAT have to do with anything?
You need not measure my ears, too, for all I know!"

"Allright, allright, I just made a comment, your asshole," she mumbled sullenly
as she wrapped the tape even tighter around his large chest. Vegeta suppressed a
moan. Even better, he had forgotten his usual stretches before showering, and
that freezing water he had taken on his back certainly hadn't help.
 
"Do you really need to stretch this wretched tape so tight? I'm beginning to
think I'll not fit in my new clothes when they're ready!" he snarled.
 
"If you really want it fits on you..." Bulma was rapidly loosing patience. Then
she noticed the man's narrowed eyes.
 
"Are you feeling well?"
 
Vegeta said through clenched teeth, "That's none of your concern."
 
However, Bulma knew that was a lie. Too many times she had seen that same look
on Yamcha's face, after he pushed himself too hard in his training. In her
father she had seen it too, sometimes, when the old man worked too much, and
then her mother massaged his shoulders. Unconsciously, a soft smile curled up
the corners of her mouth. My, my, even Saiyans could suffer with muscular aches!
That made Vegeta look so human... and vulnerable.
 
"Wait. I'll try to make you feel better," Bulma offered. So saying she reached
up and rested her hands on the prince's bare shoulders. He winced as if her
touch had burned him.
 
"What the hell are you doing..."
 
"Shut up, you fool. I'm just going to massage your shoulders! You do want the
pain to stop, don't you?"
 
Vegeta knew what a massage was. Freeza's second in command and the Ginyu troop
had the privilege of courting with a team of massaging girls, after their
hardest battles. It was a known fact that they actually did not only massage but
provided other `services'! The three Saiyans used to sneer a lot in private
about the famous "massage" situation, perhaps that was why Zarbon looked so much
like a dainty flower and the Ginyus danced like ballerinas.
 
He wanted to say he didn't need any kind of pampering like this, but nothing
left his lips besides a few mumbles. Apparently, she took that as a yes.
 
Bulma urged, "Relax. You don't need to stiffen your back like this. I'm not
going to cause any harm. Just relax... yes! It's not so hard, is it?"
 
"Hrrmmm..." that was the only sound Vegeta was able to produce in that moment.
It wasn't soo bad... no... Bulma started singsonging monotonously as she rubbed
his wide shoulder blades. Despite her work with machines, her hands were very
soft and smooth. Vegeta always had always disliked warriors with calloused
hands, since he was proud of keeping his smooth. Just because you were a warrior
didn't mean that you had to slack off, he thought, so he almost never removed
his gloves even for simple training.
 
"Feel better?" she asked.

"Hrm, hard to say, since now you're torturing my ears. Down, now... no, not
here, stupid girl. There... yes. Now push harder," he heard himself saying, very
distantly, like it was the voice of someone else, not his.
 
He never thought he could ask someone to touch his body. Since his birth he had
been untouchable and completely inaccessible. He wasn't a common Saiyan, he was
the Prince, and above the common mortals. Perhaps he was even the Super Saiyan,
and that almost put him among the gods. Then, when he lost everything to become
Freeza's property, it had been a shock to receive the punishments and tortures
like a common low-classed soldier. Worse far more than the pain, had been the
humiliation of having been knocked from his pedestal and driven into the mud
that cradled the scum. That only contributed his usual repulsion at any physical
contact. Especially because of a humiliating memory from when he was sixteen
years old...
 
<i>He had come back from a battle, and needed to spend a few hours in the
regeneration tank. When he finally could leave the tank, Zarbon appeared in the
medical room with a message for the doctor.
 
"And about you, Vegeta?" the green-haired alien said, without looking at the
small prince. "Freeza wants to see you as soon you're ready."
 
"Now the great Zarbon has become Freeza's message boy?" sneered the teenager, as
he stalked toward the table where his new clothes were and started dressing. At
this, Zarbon whirled angrily towards him. However, his irritated glare soon was
replaced by a very appreciative look.
 
Vegeta felt the taller man's gaze and looked back as he reached for his pants.
"What?" he barked arrogantly, trying to hide his discomfort . With a start, he
realized then that Zarbon was mere centimeters to him, a dangerous smile
twisting into place on his green thin lips.
 
"My, my..." he whispered. "Now I understand why Master Freeza bothers himself so
much of keeping you alive. And I thought you were only a scrawny ugly brat..."
 
So saying he reached down and touched the prince's shoulder. Slowly, his hand
slid down on the teenager's biceps, well developed for a sixteen-year-old boy.
Vegeta stiffened and clenched his teeth at the touch, fighting against the
revulsion that female-faced creature inspired in him. However, he knew what
would happen if Freeza received a complaint about his accusation of
insubordination.
 
Zarbon's cold hand glided down Vegeta's torso, dangerously close to his
backside.
 
"Maybe I'll ask him to lend you a little to me for a change of pace?" he teased,
his hand dangerously close to the teenager's backside. "Wouldn't you like that,
Vegeta? I promise I'll be much gentler than Master Freeza..."
 
That was more than Vegeta could bear. No longer caring if he would be punished
or not, he slapped Zarbon's hand away.
 
"Take your filthy paws off me!" he bellowed as he pushed the taller alien off
and backed away across the room. "I don't care about what you have heard about
me, but it's not true! I'm not Freeza's boy-toy! And I'll never be yours,
either."
 
Zarbon's smile died. Slowly, he raised his hand as to punish the boy, but
stopped, his eyes glinting with malice.
 
"You forget who you are, Vegeta.” He said, very, very slowly “Don't think
that only because you were once the prince of an monkey race which is
fortunately extinct, or because you have won so many battles, that you have any
will or right. If our Master decides you'll give us some... special attentions,
let's say, then you'll have to do it. And you'll have to smile, too, and not
making a pout like this."
 
Having delivered his message, he twisted his mouth in a cruel smirk, and then
left.
 
The young Saiyan grabbed his trousers and pulled them as quickly as he could.
Zarbon's touch still burned on his skin. It made him feel filthy almost
disgusted with himself, at the point of feeling his eyes sting. He would have
liked to clean himself, to disinfect from that creature's touch, to rub his body
until his skin bleed to get rid of that horrid slimy sensation... but he had to
present himself to Freeza immediately. He grabbed his tank top, and paused
momentarily to stare at it. It was the common type he always wore, opened necked
without sleeves.
 
Zarbon would be probably be there, at Freeza's main apartments... leering at him
again. And Freeza, too... The thought of both of those two maggots drooling at
his exposed arms and shoulders almost made Vegeta throw up.
 
"That's not what I want! " he bellowed to the doctor as he threw the piece of
cloth down "Go and get me another shirt."
 
"But Master Vegeta..." stuttered the surgeon "That is the kind of shirt you
always wear."
 
"That has no sleeves, idiot! I want something that'll really protect me!" Vegeta
roared.</i>
 
Zarbon never spoke the subject, or even came onto him again. Actually, thinking
back after all these years, the behaviour of the green alien had been strange,
since he always had spurned the Saiyans as "monkeys" and found them ugly. More
than likely, the little flower had said all those things in revenge for the
prince having called him 'messenger boy'. Yet he had poked a painful, open wound
in Vegeta's already scarred pride. The rumors about the 'real reason' of Freeza
'protecting' the teenager where well-know by his jealous colleagues - Vegeta
always suspected that Kiwi had started them - and the jokes and innuendos ran
behind his back, even among those who feared him.

There was nothing he could do, however, for even Freeza found those rumors
deliciously amusing and encouraged them. Even though Icejins were hermaphrodite,
like Namekians, that didn't mean that they were pure and chaste. There were also
rumors about Freeza taking up with Zarbon, as well about the 'secret' orgies the
terrible tyrant had with selected slaves. Even though his soldiers -save the
higher rank ones- were pushed to adopt a monk-like regime, at least in their
quarters. Vegeta himself had occasionally noticed that horned pink snail staring
at him in a odd way, after he became a teenager.
 
For all those reasons, it wasn't a wonder that Zarbon's small 'seducing' act had
practically driven the still inexperienced Saiyan into a panic. For a while, he
went through a sort of paranoia, seeing leering eyes and drooling mouths in
every face of the Ice Planet headquarters. He even went so far as to avoid
Radditz' and Nappa's company, and his two henchmen wondered what they had done
wrong. After over a month, however, he came to realize that was stupid and went
back to his usual ways. Nevertheless for the rest of his soldier's career he
dressed only shirts closed to the neck, while most of the soldiers wore open
tanktops and shorts. The simple thought that one of those disgusting aliens
could be secretly lusting over him was enough to upset his stomach, and even a
'visit' he paid once along with Radditz and Nappa to Ginyu's massage girls
(actually, he had been practically dragged!), could change that.
 
However, while he remembered all that, Vegeta realized he didn't feel the usual
loathing. It was like his memories had lost their force with the passage of
time.
 
Maybe it was because her hands were warm, and not cold like Zarbon's. Or, most
probably, because she was a woman. But why hadn't he felt that way during the
'visit' he'd taken with Nappa and Radditz to the Ginyus' 'massage girls'? True
that he couldn't compare Bulma to those purple and red-faced whores with three
breasts... not at all.
 
She had stopped singing, fortunately. He felt her smooth breath fanning the back
of his neck. It didn't help in any way to assuage the heat overtaking that patch
of skin, actually it produced the opposite effect. He caught himself wishing for
her to move even closer, so he could feel her breasts brushing against his bare
back. She was wearing those short skirts again. Hmm... if he reached out, he
could touch the skin of her thigh and...
 
Distantly, he felt a hand plunging into his hair, and thought absently that he
didn't need any massages on his scalp. Bulma's voice reached his ears, like in a
dream.
 
"Your hair is soft... like Goku's," she muttered lightly to herself.
 
Vegeta's eyes snapped open instantaneously. He whirled around, his pupils shrunk
and reduced to pinholes.
 
"You touched Kakarott's hair?!" he demanded, in a shocked tone that any old maid
would envy.
 
"Not only did I touch it but I washed it, too," Bulma confirmed innocently,
completely missing his ire. "He had only turned 12, when I found him, and he
didn't even know what a bath was. I guess that he only washed himself when he
had to swim or to fish - he used to fish skinny-dipping... he still does that, I
think."
 
Her blue eyes drifted into a far-off look with the remembrances of those Dragon
Ball hunting days long past.
 
Vegeta took several calming breaths and forced himself to relax. It was nothing,
after all, and he actually felt grateful for her silly tale. For a moment, he
had considered attacking the woman... If she casually hadn't mentioned his
rival... Vegeta released his breath in relief. Still, he couldn't help but
feeling his blood boil when he heard Bulma talking about Kakarot like that, even
though there was nothing wrong with the way she did it. Why in hell did he feel
so angry?
 
Bulma stared back at him with confused, slightly hurt eyes, like a puppy who
waved its tail in order to cheer up its master, and instead of being petted
received a smack. Why did he look so angry now? Just because she had said Goku's
name? He looked so good a few moments ago... almost happy, if that is possible.
I never had seen him like this, before. What a shame. She shook her head. Damn,
that man was so obsessed with the poor Goku that he couldn't even hear a word
about him without exploding! What a crackpot!
 
To confuse her even more, Vegeta turned away from her and marched silently
towards the door, without even grabbing his shirt.
 
"Where do you think you're going?" she demanded.
 
"You've got what you needed, don't you?" he answered, glaring at her over one
muscled shoulder.
 
Bulma answered, "Of course not! I need your pants measurements, too!"
 
His pants? Vegeta's eyes slowly widened up as the implication of her words made
their way into his brain. She meant she would wrap that blasted tape around
his... hips... around his thigh? Close to his...
 
She had to be kidding!
 
"I have to relieve myself," he said, looking unusually sheepish, before
disappearing through the door.



                  Kapitel 8: The Prince´s New Clothes Part II
                  -------------------------------------------


Chapter 8 - The Prince's New Clothes - Part II

The door squeaked as it opened, just a few minutes after Vegeta had run out of
the room. Slowly, Bulma started turning around, wishing inwardly that Vegeta
hadn't returned so soon. For some reason she suddenly didn't feel like looking
at him the next few moments. The palms of her hands still kept the warm of his
skin, as just as she was massaging him that right moment. And, without knowing
why, she suddenly felt a bit self-conscious, like a fifteen-old girl at the
realization of her first love. Oh, that was silly. She hadn't been a teenager
since... err, sometime ago. Even if she was in love with Vegeta, what it was not
true, he never would be by any ways her first love. So, why was she thinking of
that big bunch of nonsense?

Yet, against her will she turned around, a teasing smile plastered on her face.

"You came back sooner then I thought," she started. "Didn't need relief to pee,
after aaaAAAAAAHHHH!!!!" her smile froze a few seconds, before her casual phrase
turned into a cry of horror.

It wasn't Vegeta. Bulma backed away in terror, her backside colliding with the
table behind her. Trembling, she reached out a hand, in a blind, desperate
search for something she could use as a weapon.

"Keep away from me! Don't get any closer!" the horrified woman stammered as she
finally grabbed a random object and pointed it threateningly against her foe.
"I'm not going to apologize! I'm not!"

"Bulma, stop acting like a child." Chichi admonished her as she shook her head
in reproval. "I haven't came to make you apologize."

"You haven't?" Bulma's eyes widened in disbelief, as she dropped her 'weapon'
--which happened to be a pencil -- back on the table. " So... You're no longer
angry with me?" she asked, still not believing her ears.

The Ox Princess sighed and rolled her black eyes.

"Oh, I know you actually didn't mean to say all that. I think that we both...
got carried away a little, and anyway Goku felt it was nonsense that we kept
rancor for such a thing without importance. And I'd like to give you this." she
finished, showing the package in her arms. Without expecting any replies or even
thanks, she turned to lean the package on the laboratory table and opened it,
revealing the navy-blue battle clothes Vegeta had given to Gohan. "Krillen told
us that you needed his clothes for some important experiment, and Gohan wanted
to help, too, so he asked me to give you his."

"Oh, thanks, Chichi. But I don't need any long..."

Chichi cut her off with an offended look.

"You're still angry with me." she accused.

"No, no, I'm not, really. It's just I already have Krillins' outfit and I
already took the samples of clothing, so there's no need of more..." she didn't
get to finish her phrase, for Chichi grabbed her clothes with a violence that
made Bulma back against the wall.

"Now listen to this. I always wanted to toss this horrible thing in the trash,
but Gohan never allowed me anywhere near it! And now that he finally gives it
spontaneously to you, you're saying that you DON'T WANT IT? How can you do that
to me?"

It's impressive the way some people can make you feel guilty for so little.
However, before Bulma could start apologizing, the black-haired woman released
her and turned around. Surprisingly, she started to cry.

"You have no idea of the hell I've been going through these last weeks! Gohan
has been so depressed ultimately that I even called him a doctor. But that
stupid con man told me that my baby has nothing wrong, the only thing is that he
has suffered too much pressure and he needs some release through books and
playtime! Just the same thing my father spends the whole time saying, can you
imagine? Looks like a conspiracy to me!"

Bulma could perfectly figure out what had happened to the poor doctor for having
pronounced such heretical words in front of Chichi. However, before she could
say something, the mother of Gohan barreled on.

"Well, since that was so, I told Goku and Krillen to take Gohan for a long walk
in the mountains, before his health was definitely ruined. Still, I don't think
this is fair. If there's any pressure on Gohan, it's because of those terrible
training his father and Piccolo forced him to do, not because of a few innocent
books! He already studies so little! Besides..." she paused a moment, showing a
genuine tiredness. There were dark circles under her eyes and her shoulders sunk
in exhaustion, as she went on, "The truth is that Gohan hasn't any friends of
his age. Everybody is too old for him in the village nearby, and I also can't
allow him to play with anybody and be in bad company. He keeps asking me to play
with that horrible purple dragon that lurks around our house, but that'll only
happen over my dead body!"

"I am very sorry for all this, Chichi," Bulma stuttered, finally getting
something to say when her friend stopped again to get some air - and as well to
cry a little more. "But what I have to d... err, what can I do to help? I don't
know any children to introduce to Gohan."

Chichi calmed a bit.

"Ah, well, I'm getting there." she said with a sigh. "After our fight, Goku
tried to convince me to make up with you. I was still angry because all of those
unfair things you said, but he told me we already live too isolated and far away
from her friends. He said that it's bad enough that Gohan has no friends of his
own age, but if I'll keep fighting with everybody that appears, we'll end up not
having more visits, and then Gohan won't have absolutely nobody else to talk
with. And if that happens, he'll be so depressed that won't want to do
anything... even STUDYING!!" such a horrible thought sent shivers throughout her
whole body. She grabbed Bulma's neck again, almost strangling her this time and
yelled at her face: "You can't ruin my son's future!"

That Goku... Bulma probably would have laughed at the schemes of his long-life
friend to keep peace between his wife and friends. However, Chichi's brazen
attitude ignited her temper. Abruptly, she shrugged off the other woman's touch
and took two steps backwards as she stared Chichi with cold eyes.

"So, this is the true reason why you're here? You want to make it up to me, so
at least I will keep visiting you and make sure Gohan regains his will for
studying?" she hissed as she crossed her arms and turned around, mimicking
Vegeta's classic attitude. " 'Goku said it was silly for us to fight' Ha! I
should have known better. Since when do you listen to Goku - or anyone, for that
matter?"

"Of course this is not the only reason why I came here!" Chichi bellowed, hurt
tears cascading out of her eyes. "You are my best friend, the only female friend
I have, actually! Do you really think I would be so insensitive at the point of
come here just because of my son?"

"You admitted yourself that..." Bulma started to say, but just that moment she
made the 'mistake' of turning her head to look at the black-haired woman.
Chichi's eyes were reddened and swollen from crying, and the lower part of her
face was buried in her handkerchief. Loose threads of black hair dropped dead
over her forehead, making her look even more miserable. Bulma rolled her eyes
and sighed. Damn it! It's almost impossible to hold grudges against someone that
cries so much. Walking towards the desperate housewife, the scientist friendly
patted her on her shoulder.

"Now, now, it's all right. I don't see any reason why Gohan can't play with that
drag..." a warning glint flickered in Chichi´s eyes, and Bulma prudently
stepped back. "But I think I can find some use for his battle clothes. I'll keep
them, and tell him I said thank you."

Chichi sniffed in relief and nodded. Seeing she was calmer now, the older woman
hurriedly said she would bring her a glass of water with sugar and ran through
the door, actually taking the chance to leave and breathe a bit of fresh air.

As if on cue, a few moments after Bulma crossed the door Vegeta came back, his
hair still slightly damp because he had almost drowned himself by washing his
face repeatedly, with a great amount of cold water. It was better not say how
the bathroom was after he left it.

As soon as he stepped in the room, he instantaneously noticed that the sniffling
woman standing there wasn't the same he had left. His eyes widened in shocked
recognition.

"Kakarot's woman?" he said with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

At the sound of a new voice, Chichi turned around to look at the newcomer.
Feeling an instantaneous dislike of the stranger, she slowly grew a frown on her
face as her eyes slowly scanned him from head to toe.

"Who are you, some friend of Bulma?" she snapped without roundabouts. "Why you
are almost undressed in the house of a respectable family?"

"Even if I was completely undressed it wouldn't be of your concern." he spat. "I
am Vegeta, the Prince of the Saiyans. You probably heard about me."

Yes, she had heard about him. Vegeta could read that in her face. However, it
wasn't fear that drained her faces of all color, as he initially thought.

Vegeta never understood how he could have left his guard so low to the point to
allow her to touch his face. True that he honestly didn't expect that a mere,
insignificant human female would be capable of moving so fast, let alone to
cause him some pain. Although her fist obviously didn't produce any damage, it
was enough to push his face a few centimeters backwards.

"How dare you, you ordinary little bitch? Do you have any idea of what you have
done?" he growled, rubbing his outraged chin.

"THIS IS FOR HAVING BEATEN ON MY GOHAN!!!!" Chichi roared at the top of her
lungs as she rubbed her throbbing hand. It ached from the contact with that
nasty man's hard face, but still she took impulse and charged at him again...
only, fortunately, to be caught by Bulma from behind. The blue-haired woman was
just coming through the hallway with the promise glass of water for Chichi when
she heard the screams; instantaneously, she had dropped the glass and tossed
herself through the lab door at the desperate hope of preventing the imminent
tragedy.

"Are you crazy?!" Bulma said between pants, as she used her whole strength to
wrap her own arms under Chichi's, restraining her movements.

"It's me supposed to ask if you're crazy, not you, Bulma!” Chichi sputtered,
as she struggled against her friend's grip. "What this... this criminal is doing
in your house? And almost naked?" she peeked suspiciously upon her shoulder at
Bulma. Blushing slightly, the scientist released Chichi and gave two steps
back.

"Vegeta, put that wretched shirt on now or Chichi's brains will explode!" she
ordered before turning her attention back to the Ox woman. "Chichi, this is not
like you're thinking! Vegeta is my guest, nothing else. He's living here because
he hasn't anywhere to go- and is quite abusive at times- but that's all. Gohan
and the others didn't tell you?"

"Yes, they did, but I never could believe that. We both watched the whole damage
caused by those abhorrent Saiyans on TV... how can you give lodgings to one of
these monsters, after everything they did?"

"I asked her the same question." Vegeta sneered as he finished buttoning his
shirt.

"If you're not going to help, it's better to shut up." Bulma huffed at him.
"Chichi, this 'monster' is on our side now. We need him to help Goku to save the
world from the Androids."

"I'm not on anybody's side." the prince spat. "And I'm not going to help
Kakarot, either! I'm going to destroy those tin can dolls alone, I told you!"

"Ha! As if." Chichi wrinkled her nose at him. "My Goku will reduce them to dust
with one arm tied on his back before you'll have the time of unfolding these
little arms of yours! The only thing you'll have is a good butt-kicking."

Vegeta started to raise his ki.

"Woman, if you don't want to die, is better to apol..." he started, but Bulma
cut off his words with a pointed finger and a threat ready on her tongue.

"If you really want your new clothes, shorty, it is better to shut your mouth."
With that, she not only silenced the Saiyan, but the black-haired woman, too.
For a few moments, Chichi started mouth-opened at Bulma.

"N-new clothes?" she echoed. "That's why the reason why he was not wearing his
shirt before? Because he was trying clothes or something…?"

"YES! YOU WERE THINKING WHAT, EXACTLY?!" Bulma and Vegeta yelled in unison,
staring at the Ox Princess with identical glares. Chichi shrunk, her face
flushing crimson at the angry stares of both. She looked down, first at the
clothes spread all over the table, then at the computer. Slowly, the pieces of
the puzzle joined together and she raised a pair of very cold eyes to Bulma.

"So... that's why you have borrowed Krillin's battle clothes? To make a new
outfit for... him?" she pointed at Vegeta at the same way she would indicate a
cockroach in her kitchen.

"Yes. Why?" it was the other woman's dry reply.

"Why? Because I'm not going to help you to dress this monster!" in a Panzer-like
pace, Chichi marched toward the table and grabbed not only Gohan's uniform but
Krillen's too, "And I don't believe that Krillen would have lent you his clothes
if he knew what you were planning to do with them! I'm very disappointed with
you!"

To be honest, Bulma no longer need those uniforms, since all the samples had
already been taken and now Vegeta was at hand for the measurements. Yet she
wasn't the kind of person to put up with that. Resolutely, too, she charged
towards Chichi and grabbed the clothes, trying to snatch them from the younger
woman's arms.

"What do you have to do with the fact of I making new battle clothes for Vegeta
or not? It's my collaboration in the battle against the Androids!” she
bellowed.

"We have nothing to do with this silly battle! Let Goku and our friends to solve
that!” Chichi bellowed back as she pulled the clothes to her side.

More pulling came from Bulma's side.

"We have EVERYTHING to do with this 'silly' battle! It's our friends and YOUR
HUSBAND who might be killed for our lives and the rest of humanity, if you
haven't realized that! And anybody who might help - even if it is for selfish
reasons," Bulma added through the corner of her mouth as she darted a crossed
look at Vegeta. "deserves all our support! Piccolo, for example! What do you
have to say about Piccolo?"

Pulling from Chichi increased.

"What has Piccolo to do with that?"

Stronger pulling from Bulma ensued. (luckily the clothes were resistant)

"You despise him so much, but you paid his driving lessons, along with Goku's!
You told me that yourself!"

"What?" Vegeta, who still then had watched the tug-of-war in silence, opened his
mouth in a shocked "O". Bulma was distracted by that, and Chichi took the
advantage to snatch the clothes from her antagonist's hands with an even
stronger tug.

"I never should have told you these things!" she complained while she clutched
the clothes in her arms. "Yes, I did that." she admitted grudgingly. "I can't
stand that ugly demon and, if it was in my power, Gohan never would be anywhere
near him again. But at least he saved my baby-boy's life, while this precious
Vegeta of yours tried to kill Gohan!"

"But on Namek Vegeta saved Gohan's life!" Bulma yelled unexpectedly.

Both the Saiyan and the black-haired woman stared at Bulma with wide, dumb eyes.
Vegeta was the first to react.

"How do you know that?" he demanded fiercely. Chichi turned to stare at him in
shock. She was ready to think that Bulma was lying; however, she was smart
enough to see that Vegeta looked as shocked as her, and a little embarrassed
too, even he tried to disguise it.

"You... you saved my Gohan?" she asked very slowly, as the truth was too
horrible to bear. At her question, he turned around and regally folded his arms
across his chest.

"I don't want your thankfulness, if it's that what you're worrying about!" he
spat. “I needed the brat, and I wouldn't have him ruin my plans just because
he was too stupid to stand in the way of a ki-blast!"

The two women glared indignantly at him. Chichi's eyes flickered from Vegeta to
Bulma, then back to Vegeta. She was still very angry, but now a bit of doubt
existed in her mind. Bulma noticed her confusion and took the advantage.

"See, Chichi" she coaxed. "Even if Vegeta was with second intentions, the fact
was that, if it wasn't by him Gohan wouldn't be alive now. Everybody has some
good, deep down (sometimes, very, very deep) inside them. Just remember that
most of our friends were once criminals or worse, and now they're all working to
keep the world safe..."

"What? Are you telling me that this woman isn't one of these former criminals?"
Vegeta sneered from his spot.

If Chichi still wanted to kill Vegeta, Bulma would have gleefully joined her.
What did that crackpot want to do, to ruin everything? The dark young woman
instantaneously accused the impact. Her eyes sent fire again, and no one would
blame her this time.

"Why, your insolent lummox! I am as pure and clean as a freshly-washed bathroom!
Nobody would find anything wrong in me."

Vegeta gave an ironic snort. Slowly, he turned around and raised his eyes to
hers.

"Even the most disinfected bathroom retains some germs hidden. If not you, then
a relative of yours..." he said very slowly, his eyes scanning hers with malice.
"Who?" his stare made her exposed, almost like it opened a hole through her
body.

Chichi's features slowly were drained of all color. Her vision blurred a little,
and for a moment she felt like if Vegeta had sprouted horns and a pointed tail.

Her father's money, the same money that now kept her family, hadn't been
obtained very honestly, to tell the truth. She never had judged her father for
that when she was younger; in the old days, especially in the savage lands they
lived, gathering riches through obtaining other's possessions was another way of
surviving. Equally natural was the need to defend their possessions from
thieves, even if sometimes it was necessary to go beyond simple intimidation or
a few punches in the face. However, in the eyes of the modern world, the Ox King
would be considered a thief... and a murderer.

Slowly, she lowered her eyes from Vegeta to stare at the floor. Walking towards
the table, she dropped the hard won clothes on top of it.

"Alright, I promise, I promise. You'll be the first one to know if he'll rape
me, or do anything else. I swear." Bulma sighed, as she practically pushed her
friend through the door. She still had to promise at least ten times she would
REALLY call if Vegeta did something, before Chichi was definitely gone and Bulma
finally could slam the door. She let out a relieved "ouf".

"I don´t know who told you about the brat, but you didn't have the right to
expose me like that!" Vegeta snarled at her back.

Oh my… Facing one talking hurricane after another was too much for a simple
woman!

"I didn´t know it! I was just bluffing!" Bulma snapped back as she whirled
around, ready for the new battle.

"I don´t need your defense!" "I wasn't defending you, you conceited egomaniac!
It´s just I don´t like someone dictating me who I have the right or not of
inviting into MY house! So, that was really true?" Vegeta calmed down a little.

"Yes," was his grudging reply. "but don´t look at me like that! I already said:
I saved the brat because he had an important role in my plans! Besides…" he
looked down, visibly embarrassed, " … he dared to save my life," he confessed,
almost inaudibly. It was obvious to anybody how much the idea of having depended
on someone costed him.

Every time Bulma thought she really knew how Vegeta´s mind worked, she
discovered something new. She tried to look sober, but in her eyes there was a
soft, almost tender glint.

"I see. It would be very humiliating for you to go on knowing you own your life
to someone."

As reply, Vegeta gave his usual snort.

"Enough of this idle chatter! Finish this damn measurements… and no massages
this time!"

For the first time Bulma simply complied without talking back (a fact that would
have caused practically all of her friends to gape). Perhaps because she was
tired of so much fights and wanted to go through with this as much as him. They
finished the measuring process quickly and silently.

"Any colors, in particular?" Bulma asked as she unwinded the tape from Vegeta´s
ankles.

However, the prince was too busy with his own thoughts to listen to her.

"I wonder why Kakarott has chosen such a woman for his wife…" he thought
aloud, absently, for only then he remembered he had heard the sound of a voice.
Quickly, he glanced down to see Bulma´s eyes again spitting blue sparkles at
him. Shit…

"You weren't listening to me?" she snarled. One vein in her forehead was already
bulging in "x".

Vegeta's snort

"It´s not my fault if you spend the whole time talking. Was that something
important?" both his tone and facial expression made it clear that he didn´t
believe Bulma was capable of saying anything important.

"NO! It wasn't anything important! Forget it! I didn´t want to interrupt Your
Majesty's sacred thoughts!" Bulma bellowed as she jumped to her feet and
furiously wrapped the tape around her own arm. She noticed what she had done and
started unwind the blasted thing again, as she mumbled something like, "Mrrmmmm,
when I´ll make your goddamn clothes purple with pink spots you'd better not
complain, hrrrmmmrrrrmmmm…"

"Damn it, what are you mumbling there?"

She didn´t respond. Kami, men were all alike on any planet. They never listened
to the woman, and then…

"Is it true, that thing you said to Kakarot's wife? That you're making my
uniform just as your contribution to the battle within three years?" Vegeta
spoke suddenly.

Caught off guard, Bulma startled, dropping the measuring tape.

There's no storm yet I hear thunder.

"Yes…" she forced herself to say.

And I'm breathless, why I wonder?

"Then why did you tell me that you were planning to make me a surprise?" he
grilled on.

"I…I…" Bulma gulped as her cheeks slowly turned red. Then she exploded,
"Why, make your own conclusions! Whatever I'll say, you'll get angry! Is it so
important for you to know the reason why I'm doing this?"

Weak one moment,
Then the next I'm fine

"No." he smirked. She was as easy to read as a book, and so funny to bait.

"Anyway," he added in, "I want you to know that I'll pay for this. I don’t
want to give you anything else to throw on my face, in the future."
Bulma had expected anything but that. This was really the day for surprises!

"And…" she arched a suspicious eyebrow. "Where are you going to get money to
pay me? Are you planning to get a job?"

"Silly woman. Don't you have another ways of paying besides cash in this
planet?" he grunted.

She stood staring confusedly at him, before something clicked in her mind and
her mouth slowly drew up in an “O”. Her blank look faded away to give place
to a knowing smirk.

"And... how you're going to pay, may I ask?" she said as very, very slowly, as
she walked until she was within centimeters of him.

Vegeta had seen only one living being walking that way... one of the old man
Briefs' cats, before the wretched little beast tried to claw his right leg. He
stood regally where he was while Bulma strode catlike towards him, nothing could
betray was happened inside.

I feel as if I'm falling every time

"You'll know when you'll finish it, not before."

"Aah..." Bulma made a mocking pout. "Can't you give me at least a sample?" she
winked at him. A slight flush colored the prince's cheeks, but he decided
playing along and raised a corner of his mouth. Funny, he hadn't realized before
how much she had come close to him.

"Don't try me." he muttered, lips close to her ear.

The knob squeaked, startling them. Instantaneously, Vegeta jumped back, and
backed a few meters from Bulma, just a few seconds before the always happy Mrs.
Briefs swinging open the door a gap.

"Time to dinner!" she singsonged before noticing her daughter wasn't alone. Her
already happy face lightened up, "Oh, Vegeta! So good that you have left the
ship. Now you're going to have your dinner cold, like it has happened these last
two weeks."

He didn't respond, of course, but the mention of food made Bulma sigh
blissfully.

"Oh, good. I am so hungry that I could eat a..." she made a move toward the
door, but Vegeta cut her off.

"She's not dining with us." he said to Mrs. Briefs, though he looked sternly at
Bulma. "She has to stay here to prepare my new battle clothes."

"Of course I am going to dinner, too!" Bulma started to sidestep Vegeta, but he
matched her movement, and she almost collided with him.

"You have a lot of work to do and the sooner you start the better. With your
slow pace, it's better you start now, or you're not going to finish it before
the three years are up. I can't wait so long."

"But... You're going to make me starve, you ungrateful, pesky man!" Bulma whined
pitifully "How do you expect I work with my stomach roaring like..." she
started, but Mrs. Briefs gleefully cut off her argument.

"Oh, don't worry, honey. I'll bring your dinner here in the lab, after we finish
eating. I am so glad that you and Vegeta are getting along again!" and with
that, she turned around to Vegeta, motioning him to come. "C'mon, Veggie-chan, I
made onigiri..."

Without responding, of course, he merely marched through the door asides the
blonde, without even an 'excuse me'. She whirled around and cheerfully followed
him to the dining room, leaving her unhappy and famished daughter behind.

"Onigiri!" Bulma whined as she was in pain. "I do something for him, and in
payment I have to be stuck here while he'll stuff his wretched stomach with my
onigiri! What have I done to deserve that?"

Her stomach responded with a long, deep groaning - the last straw for her
battered nerves. Bulma's ears let out puffs of smoke. Before her mind could even
register what she was doing, she backed to the table and grabbed the first thing
her hand felt on it-Gohan's pectoral armor - then raised her arm to toss it as
far as she could.

Just that moment, Vegeta's head poked through the door.

"Blue." he stated simply. He flashed a look at the paralyzed woman with the
armor in her hand, as if that pose of hers was very natural and the only funny
thing was the fact that she didn't respond.

"It was what you asked before, wasn't it?" he insisted. "I want my future
clothes blue." and with that his head disappeared through the threshold, before
he slammed the door.

Bulma remained in that forced position a few moments after the door was closed,
unsure about her feelings. She couldn't tell if it was anger, shame or what that
bubbled inside of her. Finally, she realized she was holding her breath without
any apparent reason. Slowly, Bulma released the air in her lungs as she put the
armor back on the table and dropped her already aching arm. And then she started
to laugh. The way he looked so impassible when he caught her about to throw the
armor, his nerve about demanding his clothes blue even under risk of receiving a
piece of rubber in his face... she really should have thrown that at him, the
son of a bitch. Yet every time she remembered the scene her body shook again
with laughter.

I am a bundle of confusion

Yet that has a strange appeal

The scenes of Vegeta's meeting with Chichi came back to her mind, just
increasing her laughter. The anger, the distress and nervousness she had felt
for being in the middle of the fight between the two thick-heads were forgotten,
leaving only the hilarity and the ridiculous of the whole situation. Bulma never
had seen anybody able to face the famous fury of Goku's wife so calmly, without
a hint of fear. Well, she thought, after having fought Freeza, Zarbon and lots
of other monsters in space, Chichi must have been a piece of cake for him!

The thought of Chichi as a 'cake' caused another wave of laughs. Bulma felt like
her chest was about to explode. Her body ached from the effort; her eyes were
red and stinging with tears of hilarity. She leaned her weight on the table as
she tried to get some air; finally, slowly, she calmed down. Then, she brushed
her eyes and smiled.

As the days past, Bulma caught herself admiring Vegeta for this or that reason.
She understood now, or at least she supposed to, the reason why Goku seemed to
respect him so much, making the point of sparing his life. Well, at least one
thing was right: as much as Vegeta was a jerk, it was nearly impossible to be
bored when he was around. Singing, she came back to the work.

Did it all begin with him

And the way he makes me feel

I like the way he makes me feel...

Vegeta paced back to the kitchen as he savored his small 'revenge' on the woman
for all the embarrassments she had made him suffer that afternoon. By his stony,
stern face no one would be able to tell that he actually was fighting against
the laugh that churned in his stomach. The pitiful face that ridiculous woman
did when he stopped her from eating... And then, when it had suddenly occurred
him that she had become mad because he hadn't told her what color he wanted for
his new uniform... He had fled back to the laboratory, before Bulma decided to
take revenge on him by making his clothes 'purple with pink spots' as she had
threatened... just to find her holding the brat's armor, as if she had
intutively predicted he would come back. The astonished look in her face when he
spied through the doorway... he had expected that the armor was thrown at him,
but nothing happened. She merely stood there, like a statue, as he spoke to her,
and Vegeta would be that she was probably still there, with the piece of rubber
high in her hand and that 'doh' look.

He didn't feel like laughing since... he couldn't even remember the last time he
had actually laughed in his life, besides gloating or sadistic pleasure.

I'm not sure I understand

But I like the way I feel.

During the dinner Mrs. Briefs made comments about how Vegeta looked cute when he
smiled. Even her usually absent husband looked surprise at their guest's sudden
'good' mood. Luckily, he was too distracted with his own thoughts to hear what
they said, or he'd be ashamed about letting his guard down like that.

Yes, he thought, his mind far away from the dining place, perhaps to stay on
Earth could be very satisfying. He didn't know why he felt like that... but he
liked the way he felt.



                           Kapitel 9: A Quick Pause
                           ------------------------


Back to present…

Vegeta gave the woman a shocked look. She wasn´t supposed to know until

he was far away and out in space. He already would be there, actually,

if he didn´t need her help so much. Less surprising than the fact of

Bulma knowing, however, was the way she was behaving. He had been

prepared for screaming, tears or threats of definite expulsion if she

happened to know before time hand. Anything would do but that calm, cold

behavior, as if he was going to spend a few days in a nearby city, and not

almost one year out on space. But his surprise didn´t last too long.

Sometimes, he could swear that imp of a woman read his mind.

“How did you know that I´m leaving? Have you been spying on me?”

“Silly. Who´d need to spy, with momma down there in the kitchen

preparing some snacks for your trip?” her tone suggested that the ‘snack’

would be enough to feed a family of Saiyans instead of only one. “But even

before that I already knew. Dad told me a couple of days ago that you

‘asked’ him to prepare the ship. Since you´ve forgotten to threaten to

kill him if he shut his mouth, he thought it was not a secret.”

Vegeta raised one of the corners of his mouth.

“Actually, he asked me not to forget to bless him with a quick and

painless death, in case of the Androids defeat us.”

Bulma rolled her eyes.

“That´s very much like him,” she sighed. Both shared half-smiles at

Bulma´s parents´ irritating oddities.

“If you weren´t a scientist like your father and a boy-loving boy-crazy

like your mother, I would think you were adopted,” he remarked.

“Excuse me?”

“Make your own conclusions,” the prince stated as he closed his eyes

and smirked.

A shadow of confusion clouded Bulma´s eyes. Vegeta was chatering, beating
around the bush and that was not like him. He was always so direct and to the
point.

“You didn´t respond to my first question,” she ventured.

Silence.

“I can ask it again, if you forgot what I asked before,” the woman

insisted.

His smirk vanished to be replaced by an irritated frown.

“She must be crazy to have me out of her blasted hair. Good. I didn´t

think that would be so easy.”

“I´m not deaf. I heard your question at the first time you asked it,”

He finally snapped.

Bulma opened her mouth to ask why he hadn´t responded before, but

another glare from Vegeta silenced her. Didn´t she prefer it if he went

right to the subject? So that was what he did.

”I need more of those battle suits. That´s the only reason why I´m

still here,” he explained, in his concise, yet rather tactless way.

“The only reason why I´m still here…

the only reason… “ The cruel words echoed over and over in Bulma´s brain,
clashing painfully against the walls of her already pained skull. She took
several moments before inhaling a few

calming breaths and felt sure she could talk without her true emotions

betraying her.

“What would have become of you if I wasn´t a rich, generous, girl with

plenty of assets (besides being pretty, of course)?” she sighed again

and reached for a drawing in her desk. She slowly opened the drawer,

took from it a small capsules box and tossed it displicently (I’m not sure

which word you mean here. Explicity?) for the prince.

He caught the box easily, opened it and frowned after examining the

contents.

“What kind of joke is this? This box has only four capsules.”

”Uh-uh,” the female scientist wiggled a finger playfully. “But each of

these capsules has a big container filled with clothes. You´ve got

there a supply for at least one year.”

Any person other than Vegeta would have gaped, but he just raised his

eyebrows in admiration and put the small box in his pocket. He shouldn´t

be so surprised. They both knew that, soon or later, that trip would

happen, he had just it.

“You´re making these clothes faster now. Funny, to make the first one

you took almost one month.” The Saiyan teased, more because he no longer

had a reason to remain there than for anything else.

Bulma shrugged at his words and humphed in response.

“I could have done it much more quickly, if you hadn´t been in my hair

all the time.”

That was not entirely true, but it didn´t matter at all.



                           Kapitel 10: A Cofee Break
                           -------------------------


Now, back to the past, again…

A new star now occupied the center of all rumors and usual gossip that occurred
during the coffee breaks of Capsule Corp. workers. Like usual, it had something
to do with Doctor Briefs´ only daughter -- her new project, to be very
specific. Not that it was something uncanny or out of common, coming from the
Briefs that definitely would be normal. Actually, one of the strange points was
the deceptive simplicity of the invention – it was just an outfit, which the
workers couldn´t decide if it was a space suit or a swim suit. Despite that,
the fact of Miss Bulma having pushed aside two projects nearest and dearest to
her heart in favor of something apparently insignificant wasn´t exactly what
emboldened the employees´ curiosity, either. It was typical that the heir of
the famous inventor dropped her work anytime she pleased to watch a martial arts
tournament or get into some fantastic adventure happening at the end of the
world. It’s only natural that the daughter of a millionaire like Doctor Briefs
would act irresponsibly.

Not that Miss Bulma was a normal rich daddy’s little girl. Rich girls
typically strutted around with a bunch of bouncers and paparazzi on their toes.
They appeared in every gossip magazine or social page of a newspaper worth
reading, and in nightclubs, art galleries and other places considered sacred for
high society. Daddies´ little girls worried their families to death by doing
every sort of thing immoral or illegal, like posing naked for Playboy,
collecting husbands and lovers or getting arrested for driving drunk or using
drugs. The fact that Miss Bulma didn´t fit in the normal daddy´s little girl
role was equally deceptive for both the people who liked and disliked her. Her
defenders said that all this proved that she was “a good, honest woman”
despite her temper, but deep down they felt a twinge of pity for her. And her
haters lamented inwardly that they rarely had anything that could be embellished
and turned into a delicious gossip story that would spread throughout all the
company, receiving more embellishments as it traveled on its damaging mission.
Well, as someone remembered, Miss Briefs had once gotten citations for driving
too fast and insulting a policeman. However, that “point in favor” was
received with a cold silence from both the parties. A secretary started babbling
that Miss Briefs wasn´t such a saint, because some very reliable sources had
told her that the spoiled heiress of the Briefs Empire had smoked marijuana
while she was still a teenager and now consumed cocaine. But nobody even paid
her attention.

It was her parents´ fault, the people concluded, shaking their heads. They
never had changed their simple, common way of living even after Doctor Briefs
became rich; that´s why their daughter was the way she was, disrespecting the
confines of her social position and displaying eccentricities like adopting a
very unladylike profession (a rich heir wasn’t supposed to work and take the
job of someone who´d really need it!) and bringing those odd, martial-arts
lovers to her home.

Actually, the main cause of so much speculation about the project was the fact
that the Briefs´ most recent guest was directly involved with it. The
pointy-haired little man had been seen almost daily at the laboratory during the
last two weeks.

Out of all the people their youngest employer had ever brought to Capsule Corp,
he was the oddest and the most unpleasant, indeed. Nasty, boorish, always
showing a mean, glaring face, he never spoke except to demand things or to
insult Miss Briefs and her father. The female workers almost missed the
shameless pig that used to peek under her skirts, though a few of them admitted
that the stranger was attractive, in a rough way. There was a little polemic
about the workers if he was or not her new boyfriend. Maybe he was the reason
why she had finally dumped that baseball player. But a few veteran workers, who
had known Bulma since she was a kid and actually liked her, dismissed that
hypothesis. “Nonsense,” they said. “That Yamcha guy wasn´t man enough for
her!” The only thing strange in all this was the fact that they had taken so
long to split up. And neither of the two certainly didn´t need any help.

Besides, nobody would say that their blue-eyed mistress and the pointy-haired
man were exactly fond of each other. Their arguments were far worse than the
ones between Miss Briefs and her former boyfriend; she had made the point of
tossing her cranky guest out of the laboratory twice, her roars echoing through
the entire hallway up one side and down the other.

So, why he was admitted there? That was what many people asked. There was the
suspicion that the mysterious little man had probably discovered a rotten secret
of the Briefs and was blackmailing them to make him some inventions. There were
some who bet that he was probably a CIA agent, due the rumors that claimed
Capsule Corp´s involvement with extraterrestrials.

"Maybe he is an extraterrestrial himself,” someone joked.

"That´s perfectly possible, with that hair," an engineer laughed lightly. "The
way that mop stands up defies every law of Physics. Not to mention the fact that
he came along with Ms. Bulma and those funny green guys when she came back from
space."

"Ms Briefs really was out in space?" marveled a young intern. Before the
engineer could respond, however, the secretary who had made the drug use
insinuation interrupted them.

"That´s something I still cannot believe," chided the young dark-haired woman,
every word dripping with thinly disguised spite"That day a cockroach appeared in
Miss Briefs room, you could hear her screams throughout the entire corporation.
If she ran into a real alien, she certainly would have a heart attack!"

"The roach scared you, too, Sae,” remarked the intern, with a slight frown.
Sae flashed him a derisive look, before tossing her hair behind her shoulders
with a shrug.

"But I didn´t make a scandal like she did. Besides, you´ll have to agree with
me that´s hard to picture Miss Bulma in a deserted place where there are no
shopping centers, no ice-cream, no good-looking boys... and, especially, no
beauty salons!"

A general laughing shook the walls of the hallways. Even the ones who liked
their young employer couldn´t help, and many dropped all the cups of coffee
they held. But, in a sudden instant, the laughs died down to be replaced for a
dead silence, just when the triumphant Sae was opening her mouth again.

"I can´t picture any of you insects going out to space," snorted a voice at her
back.

The secretary jumped and practically tossed herself on the intern´s arms,
dropping hot coffee onto his once white immaculate shirt.

Vegeta was standing at the end of the hallway, his arms crossed and a disdainful
smirk on his lips. Instantaneously, the workers backed away until they
practically flattened against the walls, giving him passage, faster than the Red
Sea when it opened its passage for the Jewish people. As if he had waited for
that to happen, Vegeta strode calmly through the 'corridor' formed by them,
making a beeline to the coffee machine. He picked up a plastic cup, then frowned
like he was remembering something. Then he crushed the cup and tossed it away,
nearly hitting the trash can. Turning away then, he crossed again the hallway
'paved' with frightened people.

"You´re just a bunch of stupid, good-for-nothing pieces of junk. None of you
would last more than two minutes out on space. But maybe I should take your very
reliable source with me on my next trip.” He said as he walked very close to
Sae, who was again back to her feet. “I might need some second-class meat for
bait," he concluded with a smirk.

The secretary gave a muffled squeal and run to shrink behind the intern, not
wanting to know what that crazy man would want to catch with bait. However, the
young intern was more curious than scared.

"Bait for what?" he ventured to ask.

Vegeta took a few more steps before responding, as if he had forgotten his own
words, or even the presence of those people around him. Then, when he finally
reached the end of the hallway he opened his mouth again.

"For the giant worms of Sulphur,” came his distant response. “They have no
sense of taste at all, so they eat anything they find."

Sae let out a horrified shriek that echoed through the hallways, like following
the retreating pointed-hair figure. When he finally disappeared around a corner,
a relieved silence filled the coffee-break room. Just to be replaced again by a
new, louder chorus of blablas and yadas.

“Who does he think he is?” “Did you hear? He called me second meat!”
“He´s nutty!” “A psycho!” “He´s a beast!” “But Sae, you overdid
it.” “Yeah, if he tells the mistress we might be fired!” “But where did
he come from? Never heard him coming…”

Vegeta´s large forehead wrinkled with a frown, the sound was like nails
scratching across clawing glass for him. It was a wonder that the old man and
her daughter weren´t still ruined, with such morons working for them. Typical
of low races, to compensate their own insignificance by gossiping against
others. It was the same situation in Freeza´s quarters. Whispers echoed through
the hallways in the background, just to silence whenever you came close enough
to understand what was being said. Disgusting. Saiyajins didn´t waste their
time with gossip, for the simple fact that they never bothered themselves into
concealing their hatred for someone. Even when the target of your loathing
couldn´t be insulted because it was a high rank or something alike, you always
could give it hateful looks and other subtle shows of distaste.

“I hope she has finally finished those goddamn clothes,” he thought. “If I
knew that would take so long, I would had gone away without them.” It wasn´t
entirely truthful, deep down he knew, but these two last weeks had been quite
frustrating in two senses. Kakarott and his bratty excuse for a son were far
stronger now, and Vegeta was stuck at the same level for the last month.
“Every time I advance a degree, he´s already four steps in front of me , damn
him!” It was beyond his comprehension the fact that ditz received on a silver
platter everything that cost Vegeta so much. And to increase his frustration
further, his relationship with the woman hadn´t progressed, either.

If he had her as a lover, the prince reasoned, all the technology and riches of
the Capsule Corp would be at his disposal, to not mention the most pleasant
part. So, he had made the point of sacrificing almost daily at least one hour of
his precious training to visit the laboratory. Since his planet had been
destroyed one decade before he was old enough to have interest in the opposite
sex, Vegeta was completely ignorant in terms of court and seduction and he
didn´t believe the Saiyan techniques would work with Earth women, anyway. At
the lack of other ideas, he hoped that the approximation caused by the project
would soften the woman and she confessed her visible interest on him.

She hadn´t exactly softened, however. If anything, Vegeta´s presence in the
laboratory had produced the contrary effect, initially. Despite her dedication
and her father´s help, it hadn´t been that easy to produce a cloth and a
rubber with similar capacities to the original ones, since they had to rely on
the substances produced on Earth.

Bulma didn´t sleep at nights, and her customer´s little visits only increased
her state of pressure.

“If you ask me one more time when it´ll be ready, I´ll burn all your clothes
and you´ll have to train IN YOUR UNDERWEAR!!!” she roared the last time his
face appeared through the door.

He had let her alone for a while after this. And, finally, father and daughter
managed to produce some reasonable samples. However, that was just the first
part of the job. They still had to perform some tests.

“Tests? For what reason?” Vegeta asked. He had been called to laboratory in
private to receive the not so great news.

“To check the elasticity and resistance, and to see if they won´t cause
allergic reactions in contact to your skin,” explained the old man. “And
there´s ever the friction issue, too. You see,” he started when the Saiyan
raised an interrogative eyebrow. “When you fly your body produces friction
because of the air resistance. More friction you produce, more velocity you
lose, no matter the amount of ki or whatever you guys use to fly. These tests
are very expensive and can take months.”

The prince crossed his arms with a disdainful smirk.

” Pure waste of time. Why do you need that amount of tests if I can discover
everything in a few minutes?”

The implication of those words caused Bulma to gape with a wide open mouth at
him.

”You´re going to help us?” she asked in complete disbelief, as her eyes
softened at him. Uncomfortable with the admiring sparkle in her blue gaze, he
frowned and looked away.

“I´m not your lab rat. But without my help these clothes won´t be ready
before the three years finish. Where are the rags I must wear?”

If he only knew … Vegeta had just expected to wear the clothes and train at
his usual manner. Not to run on a treadmill with lots of wires hanging from his
chest to relay his heart beating, blood pressure and whatever (what for, he
didn´t understand). Or swimming in a pool or flying in a thing Earthlings
called a “wind tunnel”, always wearing the blasted wires. There was some
testing in the gravity chamber, too, of course, but the constant monitoring and
supervising was leaving him unglued. Vegeta never imagined he would be capable
of such patience.

Fortunately, there were a few compensations. Since his agreement in helping them
with the tests, the attitude of the two scientists was changing. The old doctor
no longer saw him as another of his daughters´ crazy friends, and was finally
treating him with some respect. He had made a point of offering Vegeta a job in
his company as if that was a great honor! But the main changes were happening in
Bulma. Her good humor had gradually come back, she smiled more frequently, now.
Vegeta never thought he would miss her maddening good humor until now. She
hadn´t showed any signs to encourage further advances, though, but he was now
optimistic enough to think that was a matter of time.

And the best thing of all – the coffee break. Probably one of the rare Earth
customs he could bear. Vegeta had grown to like coffee, during his staying at
Capsule Corp, especially after he learned a cup of coffee helped after a hard
session of training. Besides, Bulma always had a plate with cookies or cupcakes
at hand- two plates, after Vegeta had joined the team.

The first thing he noticed when he entered the laboratory was the absence of the
plate of cookies. Instead, there was a big tray bearing a large chocolate cake.
The table that bore the contents was covered with a nice lacy cloth. He smirked.
Not bad. Or it would be ‘not bad’, if the damned thermos bottle they used
for coffee was around. Instead, there was one of those metal contraptions that
crowded the kitchen, they could make anyone mad before you learned how they
worked. Probably one of that blasted woman´s tricks to make him tick( do you
mean ticked off or what made him tick?) ! As Vegeta scowled at the metallic
monsters, he noticed one thing that hadn´t seen before. The room was filled
with colorful, see-through things of funny forms hanging from the walls.
Forgetting his anger, he took a few steps closer in order to see that better. He
reached out and picked up one of the strange fruit-like things in his hand.
“Odd…looks like animal organs, but they´re filled with air,” he thought,
as he squeezed the thing between his thumb and the index finger.

POP! The object exploded right in his face. Almost instantaneously, a shocked
squeal was heard at his back.

An outraged “hey” coming from backwards caused him to whirl around.

“You´re not forced to like the balloons, but don´t destroy them!” Bulma
admonished as she dodged a metal closet to stride towards the prince.

“Balloons?” Vegeta echoed dumbly, still stunned at the explosion of the
mysterious thing. Completely caught off- guard, he couldn´t disguise an
admiring look. During the last two weeks he had seen Bulma wearing lab coats or
baggy coveralls with sneakers. But now she wore a short cherry red dress that
hugged her nicely, with matching shoes. Her wavy hair was combed neatly behind
and tied back with a navy-blue ribbon. Slowly, she strode towards him, not
disguising the satisfaction caused by the effect of her appearance over him.
Irritated by realizing he had betrayed himself, Vegeta glared at her.

“What is all that junk for?” he snarled.

She didn´t seemed the least affected by his boorishness.

“I just decided making something special to celebrate your new uniform.
Cake?” she offered.

“No. I want coffee. Where´s that blasted thermos bottle?”

“We don´t need that anymore. Daddy and I decided it would be more practical
installing a coffee machine at the lab, instead,” Bulma stated as she reached
forward to grab a plastic cup and pushed a few buttons to show Vegeta how the
contraption worked. “It makes more than eighty types of cappuccino," the young
woman added as a hose filled her plastic cup with the dark liquid. She slowly
held the cup at her nose to hum in ecstasy at the smell. “Nuts with “.

Vegeta grimaced at the smell.

“I drink coffee, not perfume. Does that contraption have something that smells
and tastes like coffee?”

”Sure.” Bulma just said patiently as she pointed at the proper button
“Here.”

She no longer jumped in fury every time that Vegeta was rude. Probably because
he never behaved in another way, and to fight the whole time to him for every
particle of insult didn´t worth the stress, Bulma had started to ignore most of
his provocations. She never had showed such patience to any other person, and
that change was gradual but mostly subconscious from her. And although Bulma
herself would take many years to realize that, her friends would notice it much
sooner. They always would wonder what could have produced such a miracle.

Despite Vegeta´s attempts to keep his stoic façade, his relief in receiving
the ‘normal’ coffee was so visible that the young woman laughed.

“My, you´re really became a coffee addict. Funny, Goku never liked it. He
called it ‘bitter soup’ “, she observed.

“I´m a genuine Saiyan. Don´t compare me to Kakarott, I already told you
that.” Vegeta snapped as he stuffed his mouth with sandwiches. For the
millionth time Bulma felt grateful for having become used to Goku´s manners at
table through the years, or to live with Vegeta would have been much more
difficult. True that he munched with his mouth closed and didn´t talk
sputtering, like Goku did.

“It´s difficult to not make comparisons, since both you are the only Saiyans
I had the opportunity to meet. Besides Goku´s brother”. She added, with a
slight shudder.

Vegeta gulped more coffee to send the rest of the food down.

“Where´s the old man? “ he demanded as he glanced around.

“Daddy had to go out because of an unexpected call. Business stuff. Poor him,
he wanted to stay and see you try the uniform!” despite her words, Bulma´s
tone made it clear she didn´t feel any sorry for her fathers´ absence. It was
obvious that she was happy to be alone with the rambunctious prince. That made
him confused… and a little disturbed, too.

The food, the absurd decoration, even Bulma´s looks made him feel
uncomfortable, giving him a feeling like the ones he had in the old days, when
he felt an enemy upcoming or suspected of a trap. It was exactly what that
looked – a trap, although a tiny part of his mind mocked him, saying he was
paranoid. The laboratory walls seemed to close claustrophobically around him,
just like in one of his nightmares; it was incredible that he could stand that
place for so long. Well, that was no longer necessary.

“I don´t know why,” he said, slamming the cup coffee down on the table.
“Let´s finish with that. I´m not here for a social visit.”

“Direct like always,” Bulma sighed “Allright, then.” She should know
better than to waste her time preparing a special environment for that moment.
Men were quite insensitive to this kind of thing. Reaching into her pocket, she
found a small capsule.

“Back off!” she yelled before reaching forward and tossing the object down.
The typical “puff” of smoke happened, to reveal a mannequin wearing a new,
complete Saiyan battle uniform. Despite having followed closely the process of
making it, Vegeta was impressed. To see the work ready, in its definitive look,
was quite different from the experimental models he had wore during his
‘collaboration’. In the first place, those ones were usually opened,
sleeveless tanktops, while the prototype had long sleeves and was closed on its
neck.

The cloth clung nicely to the dummy, like silky blue-royal paint. It was light
and soft, but as resistant as a battle cloth could be in battle, and produced
very little friction in contact to air, which would give Vegeta more velocity
when he would fly. All that he already knew. What really caught his attention
was the design of the armor. The very important piece had been subject of many
discussions and arguments from the Briefs. Both father and daughter agreed that
the shoulder and legs protectors of the traditional armor used by Freeza´s
soldiers weren´t much aerodynamic and not practical at all, because they broke
too easily. The old man thought the armor should be a replica of the old, simple
model Vegeta wore when he was admitted at Capsule Corp, but Bulma said it was
“ugly”. The main interested at the subject preferred not give his opinion,
mumbling that was up to them. The appearance of the thing didn´t matter to him.
Or at least he thought that way.

The new armor had no shoulder or leg protectors. Like the old armor, it was
simple, but it was far more elegant. It was made in yellow and white rubber,
pending from the shoulders with two articulated straps. A strange feeling of
déjà vu washed over him.

“I am a genius or not? “ bragged Bulma, satisfied with the Saiyans´ loss of
words. She expected Vegeta would be impressed, but not that much.

Slowly, the prince walked towards the mannequin. He held out both hands to touch
the armor and ran his fingers over the soft rubber, like he was caressing it.

“Why did you make the armor like that?” he demanded, a little more harshly
than he actually meant.

“I… it seemed the ideal solution for me, since you didn´t like that old
model from your black uniform. It was really ugly.” the young woman responded,
a bit of defensively.

“That is the same style of armor the soldiers of my father wore when I was a
brat.”

Bulma´s lips opened in a oval as she let out a shocked gasp. “I didn´t know
that…” she murmured, reaching out a hand to cover her gaping mouth. Vegeta,
however, was already busy at the task of stripping the dummy from its outfit,
dismembering the doll at the process. His Earth clothes were dropped quickly and
naturally. Throughout the period of tests, he had gotten used to change in front
of Bulma, whenever her father wasn´t present. “Don´t be a hypocrite,” he
sneered whenever the outraged inventor protested at his lack of decorum and
respect in front of a lady. “You saw much more than that, from my showers in
the first place.” After many fruitless arguments, Bulma decided to turn the
tables and began to stare openly at him, instead. That made Vegeta clench his
teeth and use his whole strength to not blush, for the situation had been caused
by him in the first place. But he barely felt her presence now.

As the soft cloth brushed his bare skin, his mind was assaulted by old,
long-buried memories. Until coming to live at Capsule Corp, he never had worn
anything but this. He pulled his head through the armor. His father´s soldiers
had wore identical torso armor before the Icejins improved it with shoulder and
leg protectors. It seemed strangely fit that now he was wearing a copy of the
original armor.

It´s almost as if I have regained a part of my pride.

The thought raised the corners of his mouth in a half-disdainful smirk. That was
silly, of course. There was too much to be done before he could actually regain
his pride and his honor. Still, at that moment he felt a sort of strange
euphoria running through his entire body, like if part of his old self was
coming back to life. He was a Saiyan again, dressed like a prince of his race
and not like a mere Earthling, or even like a lackey of Freeza. Those clothes
had been made especially for him. His dream of becoming a Super Saiyan no longer
seemed that far off.

Suddenly it occurred him that perhaps he could actually have turned Super Saiyan
during his battle with Freeza, if he hadn´t turned yellow and broken down. The
remembrance of his own impotent tears in face of the lizards´ immensurable
power still caused his guts to squirm in shame, in such a way that he felt
sick.

I allowed him to kill me. I should have keep fighting, instead of letting him
beat me until I no longer could move. Perhaps, if I had used my power beyond the
limit…

A new glint gave life to his eyes. That could be crazy… but there was no
better explanation for the Super Saiyan miracle.

Unaware of Vegeta´s realizations, Bulma let herself stand in the background,
her arms resting on a table and receiving part of her weight as she watched
lovingly the Saiyan appreciating her gift at the point of forgetting the rest of
the world. Yamcha had that same look in his face whenever he bought (or gained
from her) a new aircar. Like a kid with his new toy, that was the expression
used by her mother.

Despite all the stress and pressure that had been over her head during those
last two weeks, Bulma felt a little regret for finishing the project. She had no
illusions at all; she knew that as soon as Vegeta would have his new uniform he
no longer would come back to the laboratory until he need more training robots
or something like that. Perhaps he even would go back to space. She had thought
about inventing excuses to delay the delivering of the outfit, like improving
the armor or something, but Vegeta was already too impatient, and it would be
dangerous if he realized that she was purposely beating around the bush. Who
would guess I could miss someone so nasty… true that Vegeta is not nasty the
whole time. , she mused, I didn´t even imagine that he was able to talk without
putting up a fight.

During the long tests, Bulma always talked and talked to him. She chatted only
because she was sick of not having anyone else to speak with beside her
obnoxious parents. So, she kept talking about everything that came to her mind:
her work, her worries about the future and the adventures of her teenagerhood,
not caring if he was paying attention or not. To her surprise, Vegeta started to
talk back – he actually talked, not told her to shut up or insulted her by
purpose. And he also started forming questions. He, whom never had shown any
interest about another living being since he had arrived to Earth, started
asking her about how she had met “Kakarot”. Most likely to know if his rival
had some weak points, but since there was nothing in her information he could
use for harm, Bulma didn´t care about responding. But what really surprised her
was his sudden interest regarding Earth science.

Besides her father and some of his friends, occasionally, Bulma never had
anybody else to discuss about science and technology with, or anything else that
had to do with her work. Practically all her friends belonged to the violent
world of fighting, of ki and spiritual force, things that were beyond her
comprehension. They were masters of these things, but none of them was able to
fix a pocket radio. Vegeta was a fighter, too, but, unlike the Z warriors, he
had grown up in a world of high technology. Even though he was not particulary
interested in science, he was able to understand most of Bulma´s and Dr.
Briefs´ complex explanations, and even was able to make intelligent remarks. It
was funny for the blue-haired woman to see him raising his eyebrows at his shock
and surprise caused by the capacity of Earth technology. One year ago, he had
supposed they were primitive.

The lab will feel so empty without him… well, maybe he´ll come sometimes to
get the coffee, Bulma thought wistfully as she stared at the Saiyan´s handsome
features. A wrinkle appeared in his large forehead and his smile faded into a
frown, clearly indicating he was thinking of something unpleasant. What a shame.
Vegeta always looked so attractive whenever he smiled, especially because it was
so rare he actually smiled, not smirked.

If he smiled more frequently, like that, I could even think about dating him. As
if he would. She tried to imagine herself walking hand by hand with the
crotchety prince, in a park, a mall, any of the places that she and Yamcha used
to go. The image was so impossible that Bulma reached out to cover her mouth and
muffled a laugh. Vegeta´s entire body immediately went tense, like he had been
abruptly awakened from his thoughts. He turned his head and shot her a glare
over his shoulder.

“Nice work, isn´t it?” Bulma asked proudly. “Even your people wouldn´t
have done it as perfectly.”

He shrugged off her words with a snort.

“Don´t be stupid. Of course they would. But I must admit that I didn´t
believe that you Earthlings would be able to reproduce our complex technology.
That surprised me.”

“I think that´s the closest I´ll have to a compliment,” Bulma sighed
resignedly. Even that was a miracle, coming from him. But Vegeta obviously had
indicated the discussion was over. He strode silently towards the door. Bulma
called from him to make him stop.

“You´re going to try your new clothes in the… gravity room?” she almost
trailed off, practically forcing the last two words to go out, when she wanted
to ask” in outer space?”

He frowned at her for several moments. Part of him demanded him to leave without
any rejoinders. Nothing that he did was her business. But another part, very
recent and that he tried by all ways to ignore, reminded him that he already
owed too much to that woman. He let out a grudging snort.

“I´m going to get back what Kakarott has taken from me. That was supposed to
be obvious.” He said.



                          Kapitel 11: Scorched Dreams
                          ---------------------------


Scorched Dreams

High noon, one hour after Vegeta’s hasty departure from Bulma’s laboratory.

A large, gray-haired hand was stretched out to ‘investigate’ if the contents
of the waitress' short skirt were as firm as they looked like. A sharp-pointed
fork stopped it half-way.

Slowly, the owner of the hand, a weighty, middle-aged man, looked up at the
young woman who held the fork. A pair of blue eyes, as cold and clear as the
surface of a lake, stared back at him, bearing a very clear message, “Go ahead
and you´ll have to pay a doctor to remove this fork from your hand!” The man
narrowed his eyes, dropped a few zenni bills on the table and stomped his way
toward the door, leaving the beef and fries he had ordered untouched.

Without saying a word, Sukie calmly put the intact food back on her tray and
took it to the kitchen. Absently, she held up out a hand to push a few stray,
golden locks back to under her red and white striped cap. The young blonde was
pretty aware about the consequences of her actions, but suddenly she didn´t
care anymore. Just one month and a half working at on that blasted place and she
was already fed up with it.

Along with her twin brother, Jack, she had moved from South City to escape from
some troubles with criminal gangs. A quiet, honest life seemed the best cover,
but such plans could be difficult and extremely humiliating when you didn´t
have much to start with. The best jobs demanded references, ‘doors’ and
diplomas, things hard to be won by youngsters who had spent half part of their
lives in orphanages and workhouses and the rest on streets. Sukie, who always
had dreamed about working with fashionable clothes, had to resign herself to a
miserable job in a small, lame diner pretentiously called Delicious.

“I don´t care if he was our best customer. He is a dirty old man, and I
already said I would not serve him!” she hissed a few minutes later to for her
bristling boss. A purple colouring slowly spread its way over the man´s face.

“That´s the worst excuse I ever heard! Now I let the waitress decide who
they´re serving and who they won't! If I tell you to sit on the customers´
laps you´ll do it with a smile on your lips! For all the troubles you have
made, I should have put you out on the street. But it would have been a pity to
leave a pretty girl like you starving… “ he finished, with leering eyes.

Sukie used all her self-control to not slap him.

“You haven´t fired me yet because if you did that this place would be empty
again! For all the ogling brats and old men that have become our regular
customers since I came, I should receive a whole lot more then peanuts!”

Her boss stared at Sukie as if the blonde had sprouted a second head. When he
replied, however, his tone was carefully , though filled with poison.

“You could be already earning lots more if you didn´t think yourself too good
for our customers. Do you really think that these ‘ ogling brats’ come here
only after fries and hamburguers?”

A Crimson rose to Sukie´s usually pale cheeks. She was about to banish all her
reservations away and grab that by his collar when the sound of a honk
interrupted them. Initially, she didn´t pay it much attention, until the honk
sounded again – first one long call, them two short ones. It was the old code
from the times before when she and Jack still lived on the workhouse and
communicated between themselves with a sort of Morse Code of their own. Without
thinking twice, she simply pushed her boss out of the way and darted through the
door kitchen and out of the place. Outside, a beautiful, new-looking sport car
was stationed right in front of Delicious snack-bar, and surrounded by local
girls.

Far luckier than his sister, Jack had found a job as a mechanic. He always had
adored cars and weapons, though this love often put him and Sukie in trouble.
Actually, it was a wonder that he had been able to keep that job for more than
one month, surrounded by temptations as he was.

Blind and deaf to glares and protests, Sukie rudely pushed her way through the
girls toward the dark, black haired man seated at the driver´s chair.

“Where did you steal that car from?” she hissed, without spinning around.
The young man just smiled at her.

“Hey, where are your manners, Sis? Honest people like us don´t steal, we just
borrow. I´m just giving myself a reward for all the nice hard work I put into
making this beauty as good as new, since I´ll get receive my money only after a
month.”

“I´m not interested in any excuses you use because you're feeling homesick
for prisonabout the excuse you gave yourself to justify your homesickness from
jail. All I want to know is why you came did you come here to drag involve me
into this mess?”

He rolled his blues eyes.

“Oh, you know what they say about us, twin siblings. If one feels bad, so does
the other. I just felt that you were probably as sick as I am of this normal,
boring decent life, and eager for some of the old excitement…” he explained
as his fingers drummed at the driving wheel “But if you think it´s thrilling
to keep serving hamburgers for fat old men…” he purposely trailed off, at
the right moment when Sukie´s fat employer burst out in the street, panting
hard but still furious.

“Don´t you dare try to run from me, you little tramp! I still haven´t
finished with you! “ he bellowed.

“Oh, you have now buster!” the girl yelled back, as she freed herself from
the cap and apron, wrapped them into a ball and tossed the material onto the
man´s red face “This is not a snack bar, this is a bordello!” she finished,
jumping into the bank besides her brother. Jack laughed as he stepped on the
gas, leaving the snack bar and its proxy owner behind.

A few hours later

The wind howled across in the devastated landscape. The four figures in the sky
remained silent and motionless, two of them staring at each other while the
others were watching them at a safe distance.

Down on the ground, there was no sign of life. Fortunately, that had nothing to
do with the destruction the first two members of the group had caused, for that
place always had been a desert. Once again, Goku had been allowed to choose the
place for their fight, since Vegeta didn´t care if there were life forms living
in their battlefield or not.

Not yet, the younger man thought, although a dark, tiny portion of his mind
admonished him for being always so optimistic. What made him think that Vegeta
would end up changing like Piccolo or Tenshinhan did?

Heaving, the two men exchanged glares, their muscles hard and tense, never
missing the slightest move of each other. It was just a matter of seconds until
their pummeling started again.

Several meters away from them, Gohan held his breath, as if he feared that
single sound could trigger a new fight between the two men. Why in the world was
this happening? Everything was running so smoothly hours ago! Back then, he was
seated in his bed, waiting patiently for his mother finishing her laundry, so
she would come to review his homework. With luck, she wouldn´t remember
something else for him to study or re-study, and he could go out fishing with
his father. And if she remembered… well, Daddy would think of something then.
Then, suddenly, a horrified scream came from the yard. Recognizing his mother´s
voice, Gohan had jumped through the window and ran towards the sound, only to
find a scene that looked one of his nightmares turned true.

Vegeta was standing at the middle of the yard, demanding for Daddy to fight with
him. Pale as death, Mom was hiding behind a tree, before she saw Gohan and fled
towards him, trying to shield the kid with her own body.

His father, Gohan remembered, had tried to resonate, but Vegeta had simply held
out the palm of his hand in a vertical angle and pointed towards the kid and his
mother. At this, his father had closed his mouth and frowned, then he finally
nodded in agreement. Then, they flew away together. Gohan had taken a few
precious minutes to get rid of his mother, who tried to drag him into the house,
before taking off after the two men. A few minutes later, he pounced onto
Piccolo, who had been alerted by Vegeta´s ki and was tracking him down. Now the
little boy and his alien mentor were there, watching a battle that apparently
made no sense at all. He ventured a look at Piccolo. The tall Namekian was as
still and expressionless as a statue, but Gohan knew him enough to know that
inwardly he was very worried, and for reasons that had nothing to do with
Daddy´s security.

Goku´s hair was raised, glowing like flames, and his eyes had an aqua color,
instead of their usual black. Vegeta had demanded for him to fight as Super
Saiyan. And, despite the prince´s apparent disadvantage, he was putting all his
heart into attacking his foe. He had even managed to injure Goku a little, even
though he had suffered much more damages.

A slow smile spread across Goku´s face. Despite the seriousness of the
situation, he felt excited by the battle.

“You weren´t kidding when you said you would work it out, Vegeta,” he said
in a light tone “You´re much stronger now than that time in Namek.”

Vegeta raised a corner of his mouth in a smile-like way, but actually it was
just a grimace. He brushed off the blood on his chin with a dirty gloved hand.

“Hmpf. Do you think I feel flattered by your patronizing attitude?” he
snapped, practically spitting the last word.

“My patronizing what?” Goku echoed before gaping in total confusion.

“Don´t stare at me like I had fallen from the Moon. You know very well what
I´m talking about, Kakarot! I know you think you´re better than I.”

Goku slowly shook his head, his eyes showing genuine innocence.

“Honestly, Vegeta, I don´t know what you are talking about.”

At his words, the veins on the prince´s forehead started bulging in fury.

“Do you think I didn´t notice how you´re trying to deceive me?” he
bellowed “ I´m not a fool. You haven´t used even HALF of your power! What is
holding you back?”

As understanding made its slow way through Goku´s mind, a sequence of
expressions that ranged from confusion to realization and finally to complete
horror appeared on his face. That could be comical if the situation wasn´t so
serious.

“But… I can´t do that! Can´t you see? I’m too stronger now. Even in my
normal form I still can’t control completely my force,” he explained as he
remembered the way Chichi had flown through the wall of their house when Goku
gave a friendly slap on her back. “If I use the full extent of my power
against you, I´ll probably kill you!”

Piccolo shared Goku´s concern. Not that he cared about Vegeta; if the arrogant
little bastard was killed, no one would lose anything. The point was that if
Vegeta died before impregnating that waspish woman, Bulma, Trunks wouldn´t be
born in their timeline, and that could bring tragic consequences. Apparently,
Goku thought the same. Twice he had enthused too much and himself at the last
moment to not injure the other Saiyan deathly. Not being able to know the true
reason for hat concern, Vegeta only could suppose that it was Goku´s natural
kindness that was keeping him. And, naturally, the prince felt humiliated at
this.

“My patience is running out. If you´re not going to do what I say then I´ll
force you!” he stretched his arm and turned the palm of his hand toward Gohan
and Piccolo, sending a massive ki blast.

“NOOOOOOO!!!!” Goku screamed a half second before using the Instant
Transmission technique to get to them. However, Piccolo was much faster and
kicked Gohan to the extreme left, before darting as fast as he could in the
opposite direction. Goku found himself alone in the way of the ki blast and had
to teleport himself again.

Out of danger, he searched for Gohan and Piccolo until he spotted them, many
meters away, right at Vegeta´s back. Seeing that they were both ok, he finally
whirled angrily toward the prince.

“That was not funny!” he bellowed. “You could have killed my son and
Piccolo!”

A slow smile stretched Vegeta´s mouth as a second ball of ki appeared in his
hand.

“That´s exactly what I´m going to do, if you´ll not do as I say.”

“No way! I won't let you do that!” the younger Saiyan yelled, anger growing
within. Telepathically, he sent a message for Gohan and Piccolo to leave
immediately. He knew they wouldn´t, but at least they could conceal themselves
and power down, so Vegeta wouldn´t be able to find them. The two spectators
just nodded and flew away, without arguing.

They hadn´t flown out of sight and Goku was already raising his ki.

“Allright. If its power that you want, then I´ll give it to you!”

The older Saiyan gave a satisfied laugh as he also started raising his energy.
Golden waves of energy zigzagged around the fluctuating bodies of the two men,
causing the earth to shiver and cliffs to crumble s if they were made of sand.
As they raced to hide as Goku had asked them, both Piccolo and Gohan had to
dodge and avoid falling pieces of rocks several times.

“Those two idiots are going to destroy the entire place!” yelled the
Namekian as he blown a massive wall with his finger before it smashed him.

Indifferent to the chaos both he and Goku were causing, Vegeta burst into an
evil, villainous cackle.

“YES! Show me all your force! Show me the real power of a Saiyan!!! “ he
yelled above the cacophony .

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They chorused as their muscles
bulged, their hairs fanning behind them like they were in the middle of a
hurricane.

From other points of the world, the rest of Z warriors dropped whatever they
were doing to stand dumbstruck in shock and worry, as they followed the
incredible, apparently unstoppable growing level of ki. At a movie theater at
West City, Krillin suddenly dropped his popcorn bag at the right moment he was
going to pass it to Oolong, the popcorns spilling all over on the floor. The pig
opened his mouth to protest, but noticed his bald friend´s weird expression and
his forehead shining with sweat, in the movie´s dim light.

“Are you feeling okay?” the pig asked with concern. Krillin, however,
didn´t seem to hear him.

“W-What is Goku doing?” he muttered to himself, his eyes staring at
nothing.

However, one didn´t have to feel ki to notice the disturbance caused by the two
Saiyan´s power competition. Although Goku had apparently chosen a deserted
place, several kilometers from the battle, a high, massive cliff of earth and
rocks had been partially cut to clear some space for a highway. Luckily, it
wasn´t much used during week days, like that one. But, at just that moment, a
small blue, sport car happened to be there.

“You call that excitement?” Sukie yawned, as she stretched herself, lying in
the back seat.“To drive for hours on a never ending road, where you never see
anything but lawn, and lawn, and rocks?”

Jack, like always, took lightly his crotchety sisters´ complaints.

“The excitement comes just from never knowing what comes at the next moment.
“he said with a smile. “I always forget that you´re unable to understand
that.”

“Hmpf! If you call it exciting never to know if you´ll starve or find
something to eat, or if the cops will catch you…”

A slight rumble interrupted them. Jack´s smile was replaced by concern.

“Did you feel that?” he asked in a wary tone.

“It´s the car,” Sukie yawned again.

A second rumble shook the entire car. Sukie sat up with a start. She opened her
mouth, just to close it almost immediately as she looked in the same direction
Jack was staring. A Several feet ahead, a series of cracks were opening both at
the road and the cliff. Jack stepped on the brake at the very moment when a rain
of earth and rocks fell right in front of them. The car made a quick u-turn in
an attempt to go back, but the rocks were already falling behind and over them.
It was awesomely fast. The siblings´ screams were muffled by the deafening
rumbles caused by the massive landslide that happened in several places around
the battlefield of Goku and Vegeta. That was why even Piccolo´s sensitive years
didn´t notice the tragedy.

However, someone else, kilometers away, noticed it, thanks to satellites that
followed the fight and what happened around, in several different angles. And he
wasted no time.

Many hours later, that point of the road would be crowded with police and rescue
vehicles cars. The owner of the dealership oficine where Jack worked would
recognize the remnants of the blue car as the one that had been stolen that
morning. But, from the boy and his sister, they didn´t find even a single hair.
From that moment on, Sukie and Jack had ceased to exist.

Unaware of the tragedy they involuntarily had caused, the two Saiyans stopped
screaming. They exchanged glares again. Vegeta´s level of energy was as high as
Freeza´s, now. That was much more power he had ever dreamed in his old days,
and for a half-moment he felt proud of the result of all those months of
sacrificed training. Yet, both his hair and eyes were still black, and he
didn´t need a mirror to know that. The glare he tossed at his rival was filled
with bitterness and deep hatred. Why did people who didn´t deserved it received
everything on a silver platter? Well, maybe in the heat of the battle tables
could turn. Anyway, he´d know it soon. No longer hesitating, he threw himself
towards Goku.

For many moments they pummeled at each other furiously. Vegeta his disadvantage
in power by wits and dirty tricks, but inwardly he had to admit that his
opponent´s attack was by far much quicker and caused more damage. Both his
punches and kicks were now more painful and difficult to be dodged. To make
matters worse, Vegeta was also starting to fatigue, despite his tenacity. He
started to make errors, and Goku easily blocked many of his attacks.

“Vegeta, you barely can stand. Why don´t we stop that now?”

”SHUT UP!!!”

Using his supervelocity, the prince floated behind Goku and kicked his back. The
younger man dodged him and used Vegeta´s trick to give him a kick that sent him
flying away.

That was the perfect opportunity.

Turning both the palms of his hands, Vegeta summoned the strongest ki blast he
could; not toward Goku, but toward the ground.

As he expected, the bristling defender of Earth promptly gave a quick
kame-hame-ha to send Vegeta´s own ki blast back toward its sender. Vegeta tried
to repel the energy back, only to realize that he had commited a small
miscalculation. He was too weak and tired to back the energy away. There was
only one hope, and he smiled weakly at it.

“Now it´s the moment of truth. If that won´t turn me Super Saiyan, nothing
else will. And if I die, at least I´ll have died on the battlefield, trying to
regain my pride…” He closed his eyes and waited for the moment whether the
uncanny transformation would happen to save his life or not and he would be
turned into dust.

Vegeta woke up in a sea of pain as a pair of calloused, not much gentle hands
pushed something in his mouth and pressed his jaw, forcing him to chew the weird
object. Distantly, he felt the points of grass leaves tickling him through the
holes opened in his freshly-made outfit.

"C´mon Vegeta," mumbled impatiently a voice he knew too well.

Even before his mind cleaning enough to form coherent thoughts, he already knew
what the thing in his mouth was, so he gulped it more by instinct than something
else. Almost instantaneously, he felt the pain abandoning his body to be
replaced by the usual wave of reinvigorating energy that greets any Saiyan who
recovered from death. He opened his eyes to see Goku crouched in front of him,
his face opened in a relieved grin. A few inches away, Gohan and Piccolo stared
warily at him.

"Whew! That was close. If I hadn´t teleported myself after you and then
teleported we both at the last moment, you´d have become ashes." the young man
in orange laughed "Luckily I had spared this senzu for an emergency."

Sitting abruptly, Vegeta pushed him off.

"You ruined everything, you big moron!" the prince snarled as he jumped to his
feet and took a few steps away, closing his hands into fists and glaring at the
trio.

"You´re so ungrateful, Mr. Vegeta," Gohan bristled. "Daddy used his last senzu
on you, and he´s still wounded!"

Vegeta gave Goku a glance. Really, his rival had several injuries, though Goku
didn´t seem to notice that. His energy level had lowed considerably, too. For a
moment Vegeta considered the idea of attacking the other Saiyan injuried as he
was. But that wouldn´t bring any good. Even if he defeated Kakarott at his
current state, what that would proof? It wouldn´t help the prince to get what
he was ready to die for a few minutes ago.

"I didn´t ask you to save my life!" he bellowed at the boy "Why are you always
nosing into things that you can´t understand?"

Gohan´s eyes widened and he fearfully backed away, but his father´s expression
sobered. He gave the prince a suspicious look.

"So, my impressions were correct? You really wanted to kill yourself by fighting
me, Vegeta? Why?"

"Baka. I have no reason to wish for death, despite the pathetic life I´m living
now. But I finally realized that, to have a power like yours, I´ll have no way
but facing death itself."

For a few moments, Goku stared at him blankly. Then, finally, it dawned on him
and his jaw slowly dropped.

"You thought that to become Super Saiyan you had to fight me to death?" he gaped
in shock. "Is that so?"

"What else could be?" Vegeta´s bitter, tired response was almost a sigh " The
honor of being Super Saiyan was supposed to be mine. I surely would have done
it, if..." he paused for a split second " if that miserable Freeza hadn´t
killed me before."

Although his pride kept him from speaking openly, the trio understood perfectly
what he really meant – if I hadn´t gave up on fighting and let Freeza kill
me. Visions of Vegeta´s broken body and his face washed with tears flashed in
Goku´s mind. He didn´t believe that his rival could have escaped from such a
fate, but had no guts to admit that on Vegeta´s face. The despair of the other
remnant of their race was so painfully obvious that the younger Saiyan felt like
crying for that blind soul, so twisted in its notion of values.

“Vegeta,” he said quietly “I didn´t went Super Saiyan because I was close
to death. That only happened because I was too hurt and furious, when Freeza
killed Krillin.”

”You big-mouthed idiot!” Piccolo bellowed, his eyes widening in shock
“What do you think you´re doing!”

For a moment, Vegeta didn´t react, as if he hasn´t heard Goku´s words. Then
he burst out in a sarcastic laugh.

“Don´t lie to me, Kakarot” he grimaced. “You want to make me believe that
it was just because Freeza killed that good-for-nothing dwarf that you
transformed yourself? I believe that made you angry, because you´re a
soft-hearted fool, but it has to be more than that.”

“Huh?” Goku simply looked at him. Vegeta let out an impatient huff. That boy
was even more slow witted than Nappa.

“That should be obvious, even for an atrophied brain like yours. I hate you,
Kakarott, with all my soul!” he burst out. “If it´s the concentration of
hate and fury that causes a Super Saiyan, I should have became one long time
ago, because the simple fact of thinking of you makes my blood boil!” the last
word was screamed almost hysterically, as his body sent waves of energy that
would have knocked away anyone that not the trio surrounding him.

The three males just looked at him, musing over Vegeta´s words.

To become Super Saiyan is needed a pure, calm heart… was Mr. Kaioh had told
him and the other deceased Earth warriors when he was training them Exactly what
this little bastard hasn´t. Hmm… I almost feel sorry for him.

Many times I´ve asked the same thing to myself, Gohan thought. Daddy rarely
gets angry - not truly, actually angry. Then, when Mr. Krillin was murdered, he
was so angry that he couldn´t control it. Like me, when people hurt the ones I
love. But Vegeta is angry the whole time, so to be get more or less furious
shouldn´t make any difference for him. Does that mean… that he´ll never
become a Super Saiyan then?”

Goku, for his part by his turn, hardened his expression, as if he felt insulted
by at Vegeta´s words.

“Vegeta, you´re not understanding this! It´s not pure anger that makes a
Super Saiyan. It´s the fury caused by a deep, terrible pain. It hurt me too
much to see Krillin die in front of my eyes, so cruelly and gratuitously! But
you can´t understand that because you have no feelings for anyone. You don´t
know what grief is!”

“Kakarot,” Vegeta hissed “ If you´re teasing me, I´m going to rip you
apart, Super Saiyan or not…”

Goku lost his last bit of patience.

“IM NOT TEASING!! Don´t judge the others for yourself! Do you really think I
would lie about something so serious?” he finished in a hurt tone.

For a few seconds, Vegeta just stared unbelievingly at him. Then, slowly, his
eyes widened up as if the truth finally dawned on him. The waves of energy
around his body slowly powered down until they vanished away.

“You… you´re telling me you only could transform because of that miserable
baldy?” he asked, like to confirm something he already knew, but still
couldn´t eat.”

“What´s wrong with that?” Goku simply asked, looking suddenly very tired.

Something was wrong. It had to be something else. Kakarot was lying. However,
Vegeta´s brain told him that not. He already knew Kakarot well… he was not
dissimulate, even to his enemies. Besides, although Vegeta couldn´t truly
understand feelings, he had seen too many times the pain of grief in the eyes of
people who had lost their beloved ones killed by him and his companions. That
pain was there, in Kakarot´s eyes; it was obvious that remembering the fact
still hurt him, even though the baldy was alive now. His angry, offended tone
when the prince hadn´t believed him was genuine.

So… that was it?

For Goku, it looked like Vegeta had shrunk a bit in front of him. Even his
muscles seemed to loose their form. And his eyes… his eyes…

Abruptly, the older Saiyan turned around.

“You´re despicable.” He muttered, before silently taking off and flying
away. Goku stood in the field, watching as his foe´s blue clothes melted
against the sky. He barely noticed Piccolo and Gohan walking toward him.

“Dad, are you allright?”

”I hope you have a very good reason to have given to Vegeta the recipe of how
becoming a Super Saiyan!” the Namekian admonished “That was very imprudent,
even if that little sonofa can´t transform.”

” Uh- huh” Goku muttered absently, his eyes still lost on the sky.

“Is it because after three years we´ll need all help we can get, even from
Mr. Vegeta?” Gohan asked wisely.

That question seemed to bring Goku back to reality. He slowly turned around to
look at them with his trademark childlish smile.

“I didn´t even think of that,” he confessed with a laugh as he held out a
hand to run awkwardly on his matted hair “I just felt sorry for Vegeta having
put all his heart in that fight for nothing. Don´t you think that so much
effort doesn´t deserve a reward?”

In response, the other two fell over.

“Besides…” Goku looked thoughtful again. “Maybe now that Vegeta knows
the truth, he´ll finally understand that is not a weakness to care about
others. Perhaps he´ll change after this, who knows?”

Standing again, both his ally and son gave him a very skeptical look.

“In one thing I agree with Vegeta,” Piccolo mumbled behind clenched fangs.
“Your brain is really atrophied!”

Goku didn’t mind. He was already used to that kind of reaction, and though the
years he had come to understand why people were so untrusting about others.
Moments like this made him grateful for never having lost hope, too. Several
times he found out his trust on others wasn’t undeserved, and he prayed
inwardly that was one of these moments. For Bulma and Trunks´good.

Note: Sukie and Jack made a small cameo at the chapter four (Unchain My Heart).
If you´re wondering what they have to do with Bulma´s and Vegeta´s history,
well… just keep watching. You might have a surprise… or not.



                    Kapitel 12: Stop Telling Me What to Do!
                    ---------------------------------------


Stop Telling Me What to Do!

Two days elapsed since Vegeta was gone. Because of the chaos that recently had
come in this same space of time, Bulma almost wished she could run off like he
had done… if she wasn´t so hurt and concerned. Hurt because that damned cloth
had taken her almost two weeks to develop and caused dark circles under her
eyes. After all the trouble he had just left without even a word. She didn´t
expect exactly a thank you very much from him, but damn it, after so much
innuendos and double-sensed talking it didn't take a genius to notice that
Vegeta had a bit of interest in her. (Changed the figures of speech a bit here)
The young scientist had expected that Vegeta… well, that he at least he
‘paid’ for the favor as he had promised. But no, as soon as he had found
himself dressed and done with her, he had promptly ran off to fight Goku once
more. How typical of men… Yamcha was just the same, always leaving her for a
baseball game, a training, or an adventure. Women are always left for a backup
plan, when not put last. (Backup plan instead of second plan here) No wonder
that Chichi was so attached to her son; like most women unhappy with marriage,
she probably should do that to compensate Goku´s negligence.

It was the whole thing about Goku that was the cause of her concern. Several
hours later, after Vegeta´s hasty departure, Bulma had made a call to the Sons.
Chichi had confirmed that yes, he had been brunette´s voice still trembled in
fear and anger as she related the details of how that ‘devil’ had threatened
to kill Gohan and herself, and the state Goku had come home in, all injured and
dirty, without explaining a word. She hoped now that Bulma had sense enough to
see her mistake in sheltering such a monster and…

At this point, Bulma hung up, with a mixture of relief and worry. Apparently,
Vegeta had lost again. Anyway, it was almost impossible for him to win; but, if
some miracle made that happen, he´d more than likely would have killed Goku.
That simple possibility made Bulma´s heart sink. If that transpired, she
couldn´t allow the killer of her dearest friend to continue living in her home.
She almost could feel the accusing eyes of the rest of her friends turned upon
to her. Still…

She let out a heavy sigh. The truth was that even if she was aware of what
Vegeta would do if he turned Super Saiyan, she hoped truly that he achieved it.
It wasn´t fair that he got so worked up and had suffered so much for nothing.
This possible second defeat probably would break him irreparably.

Enough thinking about this, Bulma, she scolded herself Vegeta´s an adult, it´s
time for him to start behaving like one. He´d probably scorn me if he learned
how much I´m worried… he would say that´s not of my concern, and he would be
right. I must worry about myself. If I only could have some peace… she
continued, startling at the sound of footsteps going up the staircase that led
to the rooftop. Shit. She had been caught.

With the battle outfit project out of the way, Bulma had expected to spend the
rest of the week resting. However, she had forgotten completely that it was just
a few days before her birthday… and the eventual chaos that always caused.
Every year it was the same hell.

Bulma adored parties but her birthday was one exception. Perhaps because she was
already going past thirty, or – especially for that reason – the party
always had been more of her parents doing than exactly hers. At the party
celebrating her twelveth birthday, she had to argue fiercely for hours to
convince them to no longer request clowns and magicians, for to her father´s
disappointment. And her mother almost drove her crazy by tossing every magazine
and catalogue of parties decoration under Bulma´s nose. The blue-haired woman
had make up her mind at least a thousand of times until she made her definitive
choice. Then, her mother changed everything in the last minute for the
decoration style that she liked most. And when her daughter protested, the ditzy
blonde just shrugged innocently and said ‘ why, dearest, you never know what
you really want, so I thought that would look good.’

Not to mention the guests. Of course, Bulma always invited her friends, but only
a few came – the rest was always training or having adventures somewhere in
the other far corners of the world. On the other hand, her parents always
invited all their workers and their friends, most of them people that had
nothing to do with Bulma and that she would prefer never see. Like her father´s
shareholders, those puffed peacocks always looked at everything down their noses
– especially Bulma, their cold eyes clearly saying that she was completely
unsuitable to be at the head of the Capsule Corporation. Worse than that were
those who were only her mother´s friends, that spent the whole time chattering
about how wonderful their own daughters were and the perfect men these girls had
married, and asked WHY Bulma was still single. ‘Time is running, my dear.
You´re not going to remain beautiful forever, my dear.’ They always said.

Just one year ago, Mrs. Briefs had invited without Bulma´s knowledge, one of
the young woman´s former colleagues at their high school. It was a disaster,
because the boy had spent the whole time trying to show the blue-haired girl how
much he had succeeded in life and the mistake she had made by refusing to date
him when they were younger. Yamcha literally sent him to the hospital.

It was he that helped Bulma to cope with the stress of her birthdays. He always
gave her roses (invariably red ones) and a box of chocolates or even jewelry he
could afford, then found a way to run off before the party ended and took her
out for a movie or to any of their favorite places. It was always like this,
save when he was training out in the wilds. Yet now she missed his good humor in
situations like those. It was the first time she actually missed him, and that
just confirmed Bulma´s suspicions that her feelings for him never had went
beyond a mere friendship, which didn´t lighten her mood in any way now.

After hours of endless torture, the scientist finally sought refugee at the top
of the house, with a pile of magazines and a piece of chocolate cake. She should
have known better.

“Bulma, dearest!” her mother´s voice chidded happily through the door, even
though she was heaving for having climbed all those floors of stairs. “Finally
I found you. What are you doing up here, so far from your little lab and your
room? I looked through the entire house after you. I thought you were out.”

“That was exactly my plan,” Bulma growled through clenched teeth, even
knowing it would be useless. Her mother was completely immune to sarcasms,
innuendos and unable to fathom the need of people to have some time alone for
themselves.

”I wonder where did you get this bad humor from,” the blonde shook her head
in disapproval, then her face lightened again. “But that´ll make you happier.
I think they´re simple perfect. Here, look!” she bubbled as she tucked a big
catalogue of decoration over the magazine at Bulma´s lap.

“Why do you always ask my opinion?” she said wearily, pushing the catalogue
aside. “You change your mind the whole time, and end up choosing for YOURSELF
the decoration you like most.”

“Honestly, Bulma, if I hadn´t suffered the pains of your birth personally, I
could suspect that you´re not my child, “ a very unusual frown appeared on
the older woman´s face. “It´s your birthday, you´re SUPPOSED to be happy!
Your face will only wrinkle prematurely, the way you´re killing yourself from
working. I know that you´re upset because Vegeta hasn´t thanked you for the
new clothes after you had all that trouble…”

”I´M NOT UPSET!!!!”

”…but you know how shy he is. I´m sure that deep down he´s very grateful
to you, just give him some time…”

“I think that one will serve well,” Bulma said as she pointed resignedly one
of the pictures at random, since it was the only way to change the subject. Then
something occurred to her and she raised a thoughtful eyebrow, “ Did you rush
up all these floors just because of this, or is there something else that I must
decide upon?”

“Oh, now that you mentioned it,” Mrs. Briefs chatted. “I almost forgot.
Your father and I felt that you perhaps would like to make the guest list by
yourself, since you´ve gotten so upset because of that former colleague of
yours that came to your party last year… Such a handsome boy, who could guess
he would behave so rudely?” she added with a slight frown, as if it was
impossible that pretty boys would have bad manners.

Bulma jumped to her feet, in gleeful disbelief. Hallellujah! Maybe this year the
whole ordeal would be enjoyable, after all.

“That´s great! Then let´s do something more private, this time. Only my
friends, no shareholders, workers or our neighbors talking how wonderful their
daughters are.”

”Why, Bulma,” Mrs. Briefs protested soflty. “You shouldn´t take to heart
everything other people say! The poor little women just do that because they
can´t confirm that my daughter has a brilliant career, while their daughters
gave up on college to take care of their stupid husbands. And they know you
since you were little, you´ll hurt them if you won´t inv…”

”HEY… IS THIS MY BHIRTDAY PARTY OR YOURS?”

Bulma decided to invite her friends personally. This way, she would also get
some fresh air to clear her mind. As she drove her aircar over the calm sea, she
inhaled deeply the salty air, feeling the wind ruffle through her hair and
savoring her temporary freedom.

The first members on her list were the residents of Kame´s House. True that
Kameroshi and Oolong invariably got drunk and came onto the female guests, but,
as Krillin has said, if you want friends you have to accept them the way they
are. And at least Bulma knew she could count on them, if the rest of her friends
didn´t came, as almost always had happened before.

Kameroshi was dozing on a beach chair outside the house, a porn magazine
covering his face. He woke up with a start at the sound of the incoming aircar,
and straitghened up, raising his dark glasses to his eyes. When the old man saw
the familiar, beautiful figure jumping out of the cair, his wrinkled face opened
into a smile.

”Hello, Bulma! It´s good to see you again. I was just happening to have a
dream with you…”

”Spare me,” she said with a grimace as she stepped out of the car and turned
it back into a capsule. “Are Krillin and Oolong in there?”

”No, they´re out shopping for groceries. Why?”

”Well, I had something to talk to…” she suddenly realized something amiss
and glanced around. “Where is the turtle?”

”He´s making a long trip with some friends, and won´t come back till next
year. This is the first day of true peace I have had in ten years,” The old
man sighed blissfully.

Bulma forced a smile. She had really thought that the place was too quiet.

“Well, then it´s better to go to not disturb your rest. I´ll come back
later, bye!” she took a step forward, but Kameroshi quickly stopped her.

“Hey, I wasn´t referring to you. You and your boobs….err, and your beauty
are always welcome here.” Snatching her arm, he gently led her to the nearby
vacant chair. “Here, sit for a while as I go to get you something cool to
drink.” Saying these words, he ran inside the house before the young woman
could protest.

Bulma never had been completely, absolutely alone with Mutenroshi before since
they had first met. The old fighting master was a long-life friend of hers, and
–deep down inside – a good person, but he was also a hopeless pervert. What
would he do without Goku, Yamcha, Krillin or even the Turtle ´s presence to
restrain his instincts?

Maybe it was better for her to leave before he came back. Too late because he
was already returning with a glass of orange juice and a can of beer carried on
a small plastic tray.

“Here, this is a very tasty juice,” he said, handing the glass to Bulma, and
taking the opportunity to get a good glimpse of her cleavage. “Hmm, nice
dress. Never had seen you wearing it before.”

”And you´ll never see me wearing it again!” she snapped snatching the glass
from his hand and pushing the old man backwards. Damn it! With all her clothes,
she had to again wear that blasted cherry colored dress. As soon as she arrived
back home, she would donate it for charity.

“I´m sorry I haven´t invited you in,” Mutenroshi said as he brought out
another chair and sat it in front of her. “But you know how messy the house of
a single man is...Krillin and I do our best to keep it in order, but we´re not
like Lunch. She was a great housekeeper as long as she didn´t sneeze.”

Bulma paused with her glass mid way to her mouth.

”That´s nonsense,” she said gently. “I have come here lots of times since
Lunch left and your house is always immaculate.”

”It´s very kind of you. The point is that… we´re lacking a woman´s touch
here. Especially after Krillin broke up with Marron, that wonderful girl… she
looked a lot like you, for that matter,” the old man sighed with nostalgia.

Bulma didn´t like that comment, especially because Marron´s brains left a
great deal to be desired. Oblivious to her irritation, Mutenroshi carried on.

“…And I imagine how much lonely it must be for you, to live in that huge
house, only with workers for company… Aren´t you going to drink your
juice?”

The afore-mentioned juice trembled slightly, at the hand of the woman that had
forgotten it completely.

“I´m not lonely!” She snapped out, putting the glass on a small table
between them. “I live with my parents, and my friends come to visit me
frequently.”

Kameroshi smiled and dragged his chair a little closer to her.

“Why, living with your parents is not the same than having your own family,”
he insisted. “A woman is not complete without a man, especially without caring
company to spend a life together…”

Immediately, Bulma leapt to her feet and stepped towards him, so fast that Roshi
retreated and fell onto his back, spilling beer on his shirt. His chair turned
over and covered him like the turtle shells he didn´t wear anymore.

“I CAN´T BELIEVE THIS!! EVEN YOU ARE PESTERING ME WITH THAT? NOBODY HAS
ANYTHING BETTER TO DO THAN TELLING ME WHAT TO DO WITH MY LIFE?!!”

Completely caught off-guard, the old master only could shrink under his chair,
completely confused about such a violent reaction. When he gathered enough
courage to peek under his improvised shell, Bulma was already tossing a capsule
down and jumping back into her aircar. She didn´t even gave him a second look.

“I just remembered I have an appointment. See you later,” the young woman
said hurriedly as she slammed the door to her car and took off. At her rush way,
she almost literally ran onto Mutenroshi´s vehicle, that was bringing back
Krillin and Oolong.

The pig and the monk found the old master crawling out from under his chair,
smelling like beer. An angry frown was wrinkling his face a little more than
usual.

“What was Bulma doing here?” Krillin asked as they stepped out of the car.

“I don´t know,” Roshi growled as he shook sand off his clothes. ”She
wanted to talk to you, but I think she changed her mind.”

“Ill-mannered like always,” bristled Oolong. “She could at least waited a
bit to say hello to us.”

“What have YOU done to make her run off like that?” Krillin demanded in an
accusing tone to his master.

“Nothing! I haven´t done anything to her!” the old man growled furiously.
Damn it. This looked like the perfect opportunity for him to test a lust potion
he had stolen from his sister Uranai a few years ago. He always had dreamed of
testing its effects, but then Lunch had already gone, and he never could be
completely alone with Bulma or Marron. (testing sounds better with effects then
trying) So he had slipped a few drops into the juice. Now that his erotic dreams
finally seemed they would come true, that crazy woman had inexplicably one of
her tantrums and left him without the precious potion wasted. Even if she had
drunk the juice, however, Krillin and Oolong would have come by next and caught
them. What had once seemed to be Roshi´s lucky day had turned into one with
very bad luck.

Indifferent to the argument between master and disciple, Oolong spotted the
untouched juice glass at the table between the two chairs. Miraculously, it
hadn´t tipped over and spilled with Bulma´s explosion. The little pig caught
the glass and smelled it.

“Hmm, what´s that? Oh, great its orange juice…” he opened his mouth and
took raised the glass to his lips. Kameroshi whipped around, and his eyes bulged
behind his dark glasses.

“NOO! DON´T DRINK THAT!!!! “ he jumped and frantically waved his arms
towards his friend.

Too late.



                   Kapitel 13: "I Want to Feel Real Love..."
                   -----------------------------------------


I Want to Feel Real Love
 
Come and hold my hand
I wanna contact the living
Not sure I understand
This role I've been given
I sit and talk to God
And he just laughs at my plans
My head speaks a language
I don't understand
  
Damn it. It looked like everybody was against her! Who did that old man think he
was?  Bulma Briefs wasn´t for him, no, no!  The fresh wind helped Bulma to calm
down and clear her  mind. Better to come back later, when Krillin and Oolong
were around. 
" Mount Paoz is not too far away..." she thought aloud, in a slightly forced
tone. However, she couldn’t make herself turn in that direction.  Goku most
probably would forget to go to the party, and she didn´t felt like facing the
Sons after Vegeta had threatened them.  However, there was no one else she could
invite for her birthday. Yamcha was out training somewhere in the world,
Tenshinhan and Chaos too - and even if she could find them, it wasn´t likely
they would agree to come. Lunch was Kami knows where.  She tried to remember her
childhood friends and schools colleagues, but they were just blurred faces and
names, that not caused feelings. It was like her life had started only after she
began her first search for the dragonballs. 
Those were the good times. Lots of danger, of course, but nothing compared to  
what they had experienced to last years. Even their troubles with the Red Ribbon
Army looked like fun now, compared to the violent battle with aliens able to
destroy planets with a simple finger. She thought about her strange feeling when
she found herself completely alone with Kameroshi.  It hadn´t been not only
fear, but nostalgia... she had gotten used to thinking about Kami Island as a
crowded place.  Yamcha, Mutenroshi, Krillin and Goku -still as chibis, Turtle,
Lunch... those were happy days that never would come back. 
She felt her friends becoming more and more distant, too involved in their own
personal problems. Apparently, only a battle was capable of bringing everyone
back together. The times were now darker and much more complicated.
"The point is: what I´m going to do now?" Bulma asked aloud as she stepped
abruptly on the brake, scaring away a few wild animals.  Until that moment, she
had driven automatically, watching the traffic but not actually paying attention
where she was going to. She was in the middle of a wide, clear meadow, with no
one at sight. That was the perfect place to think for a while. Driving out of
the road, she parked the car, jumped out and cozied the best she could at the
top of the car´s front part. 
 The last thing she wanted now was to go back home. Her parents would be
delighted to help her to invite other guests, but the simple thought terrified
her.  Bulma could already feel the chubby fingers of Mrs. Pickle-her mother´s
best friend- pinching her cheeks like she was still three, or the younger
shareholders pursuing her, intent on a marriage that could be a foot in the door
for the Capsule Corp presidency.  
"Who am I trying to deceive?" she asked of a rabbit that stared at her in
curiosity. "I don´t want any blasted party!" she finished with a scream,
scaring the bunny away, before sorrowfully raising her hands to support the
weight of her tired head.
 At least, she didn’t want the kind of party her parents wanted for her.
Without any apparent reason, she felt tears coming to her eyes and took a deep
breath to keep them from falling. Ultimately, everybody seemed to want something
from her, but nobody ever asked her what SHE wanted.

 "Why, my  dear, you never know what you want."

"Shut up, mom!" she snapped as if Mrs. Briefs was really there.  Bulma knew
perfectly what she wanted now.  She wanted some time for herself; she wanted to
be a careless girl again, and forget all her duties and obligations at least for
a few days.  She wanted to feel alive once more, for maybe after three years
there would be no life at all.

 I just wanna feel
Real love feel the home that I live in
Cos I got too much life
Running through my veins
Going to waste 
 
As Bulma thought about that, she slid from the hood of the car and paced
absently by the meadow. The sunlight-heated air was warm but pleasant, freshened
by a soft breeze. Slowly, Bulma felt her spirits rising a bit.  She wished to
take her shoes off and feel the grass under her bare feet, but refrained from
doing so because she remembered there could be snakes and spiders hidden among
the tall leaves.  However, she stopped and slowly laid down on the grass, before
picking up a flowers and spinning it playfully in her hands. 
"I wish I could stay here…" she muttered, her eyes opening with a start almost
instantaneously. Her own words had pushed to the front of her mind an idea that
had been subtly nagging at her for the last minutes. She actually could… if
only… Jumping to her feet, Bulma rushed to the air car and checked her capsule
box.  It had an airplane, a few motorcycles and, more importantly, one
model-house.  Her wallet was filled with money and credit-cards.  Perfect.
Whatever she couldn´t find in the house or the capsules could be bought later.

A few seconds later, the telephone rang at the Capsule House. Dr. Briefs
answered it at the kitchen.

 "Hello? Bulma? Are you ok? You mother and I want to know when do you come back.
Did you already invite your friends? No? What? You´re off to another adventure?
But, darling, what about the party? Yes, of course the safety of the world is
more important than your birthday… I guess. "

"Who is it?" asked Mrs. Briefs as she entered the kitchen.  

"Bulma. She´s saying she has to go in another trip. Looks like there´s someone
menacing Earth again… a crazy scientist or something.  And they´ll have to be
out for a couple of…"  he paused to hear something else in the phone, then
corrected himself, " no, a week out." 
"Oh, that´s allright," the blonde waved her hand dismissively. "As long as they
came for the party in time. We just received the first tons of pastries, it
would be a shame if they had to go to waste," the blonde woman concluded. She
turned to look at the piles of boxes that filled the entire table, whose legs
looked slightly arched. 
"Wait, I´ll ask her,” the old man turned to speak at the phone again.
“Hello? Bulma? Are you still there? Sure… Are you sure you and your friends
can´t come in time for the party?"  he stretched the arm that held the phone a
little, so his daughter´s screams wouldn´t make him deaf.  “Now, now… no
need to be nervous. I know it´s important, but your mother will be so
disappointed. She has already ordered the pastries and sandwiches… what?"
Going silent, he listened carefully before looking back at his wife with his
usual confused expression. 
"Bulma asked for us to have the party without her. She said we must invite all
her friends and workers, and throw the party in honor of her birthday."  
"What a wonderful lovely idea!" Mrs. Briefs raised her hands together happily.
"We have such a wonderful daughter, she´s always thinking about us. I´m going
to tell all my friends!"

Rolling her eyes at the other side of the line, Bulma heard her mothers´ happy
squeals as she  waited patiently until her father got the phone again. 
"Dad? Yes, I heard it…" she let out a very heavy sigh. "No, no thanks, please.
It wouldn´t be right to waste all mom´s pastries after the whole trouble she
had… to order them. Don´t feel sorry for me. This time out will make much
more good for me than all the parties in the world. Have fun, I love you both.
Bye." 
A deep, blissful relief washed over her as she put the cell phone down. There
wasn´t any way for her parents to know she was lying, for they never would call
her friends to ask them about the fake 'mission' , or even ask even if she was
alive and well.  They never did it.  The thought brought a slightly bitter taste
to her triumph. The blue-haired woman always had been grateful for the unlimited
freedom she had enjoyed during practically her entire life.  Normal parents
never would have allowed a 16 years old girl to wander through the dangerous
world by herself just to look for magic balls. Or to skip school and risk her
life in order to help her friends against monsters and terrorists. At this
point, she had a great advantage over common teenagers.  On the other hand, she
frequently wondered if her parents really cared about her. If something ever
happened to her, Dr. Briefs probably would keep himself busy with his inventions
and pets, and her mother would keep finding new pastry shops at the West City,
never worrying if their daughter was alive or dead.
 Abruptly, she pushed the unnerving thoughts to the back of her mind. She was
free now, and that was all that mattered.
 XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The first day-and-a-half  were absolutely heavenly. She uncapsuled her house in
the middle of that meadow and spent the rest of the day and the night watching
TV and eating ice-cream with popcorn. She fell asleep finally at 2:00 am and
woke up at midday, eating anything in front of the TV, something Bulma hadn´t
done in years. After that, already tired of the place, she capsuled the house
again, uncapsuled a motorcycle and rode aimlessly, just for the pleasure of
riding.  

Stopping in a little, nameless town, she bought a few extra capsules and ate a
few morsels in a small restaurant. There, two boys came onto her and insisted
even after she dismissed them both. It took her longer than she expected to get
rid of them, and she only did so with some help of one of the waiters. After
that, many onlookers, including even a few women--all of them with respective
male companions--started giving her unpleasant looks. Evidently, a single woman
eating there wasn´t exactly considered a lady, so Bulma decided to leave the
town fast before she got into new trouble. 
The incident reminded her when she, Goku and Oolong had made a pitstop in that
little Arabian town, and the soldiers of the Bunny Army had hit on her, too.
Whatever could have happened if Goku wasn´t there to stop them she preferred
not to think about. 
A dinosaur roared far away, and Bulma shivered at the threatening sound.
Suddenly, to be all alone had less appeal than it did before. Actually, to not
have anybody to talk was a little boring, too.
 The price of absolute freedom was loneliness. Maybe that was why people like
Piccolo and Vegeta preferred living isolated from others. Bulma sincerely
admired their absolute independence, but she knew she never could be like them.
She needed the company of other people, even if they drove her crazy at times.
Her memories of her first trip after the dragonballs gave her another idea. Now
that she was free again, she could now do what she had planned to do fourteen
years ago which Pilaf had ruined.  That´s what I should have done... I should
have waited for one year and then searched for the dragonballs again to wish a
perfect boyfriend, instead wasting my time with Yamcha and V... and other men
that didn´t deserve my attention.  Now she would wish for a new, handsome,
caring, perfect boyfriend that never would leave her alone. 

There was only one last thing she needed. Quickly, Bulma uncapsulated the aircar
that had brought her there and scanned its contents, not leaving even the
tiniest place overlooked.  It didn´t took much to confirm what she already
knew: the dragon radar had been left at home. Shit!  The goddamn party was
probably starting now.  She would have to go home and try to figure out a way of
slipping into the house and into her lab then leave again without being noticed.
 Almost as easy as it would be to convince Piccolo to wear a pink tutu. 
 
{i]I don't wanna die
But I ain't keen on living either
Before I fall in love
I'm preparing to leave her
Scare myself to death
That's why I keep on running
Before I've arrived
I can see myself coming

It was already dark when Bulma finally arrived at the neighborhoods of the
Capsule Corp. Hidden at the woods at the back of the gigantic house, she stood
beside her car, watching the crowd, that only increased with each passing hour.
Her plans of 
"Are you afraid to return to the madhouse? No wonder. Even I didn´t want to run
the risk of getting caught by those buffoons  there in my way to the gravity
chamber." 
 
Bulma jumped slightly. It wasn´t necessary for her to look to know whose voice
that was. So, when she turned around, , she formulated a long lecture in her
mind, ready to hurl it at the irresponsible man despite the happy glint in her
eyes.  However, whatever she planned to say was instantaneously forgotten when
she finally spotted the Saiyan seated in the shadows a few feet from her.
 
"V...V... Vegeta!!" remembering just in time that she was hiding, the young
scientist pressed a hand to her mouth, just in time to muffle her shocked
scream.
 
Apparently annoyed with the pitiful look in her face, he frowned. Literally,
Vegeta looked like he had gone off to fight some war. The uniform that had taken
her so much time and work was now completely dirty and blood stained, and so
torn that left him almost undressed.  His hair looked like it had been
‘combed’ with the claws of some wild beast.  But, what really shocked Bulma
was his posture. Vegeta was sitting on the grass and leaning forward, his
shoulders slumped and his arms dropping limply at the sides.  His legs laid
loosely on the ground, with his knees slightly folded, making him look like a
ragdoll that some child had tossed in a corner. Yet although his expression
remained stoic as ever, there was something in it that Bulma couldn´t define.
 
All she wanted to do now was run straight to him to hug him as tightly as she
could.  Instead, she timidly walked towards him and stood staring at him with
very sad eyes.
 
"Just... just look at you! After all the trouble I went through making this
damned cloth... luckily for you I have made so many copies, or you´d have to
fight naked. Cause I´m never going to help you again! Ever…”
 
Vegeta barely seemed to notice her, his eyes far and staring at something
invisible.
 
"Sounds good to me," he agreed vaguely, in an inexpressive, slightly broken tone
that could be like anyone but him. That was the last thing Bulma expected to
hear, so she forgot the rest of her lecture to stare at him dumbfounded and
jaw-opened.
 
"W... What?!" 
A bit of Vegeta´s old annoyance made him frown and he turned his head towards
her, but never looking Bulma into her eyes.

"Are you deaf?” he snarled. “I said it´s sounds good to me because I no
longer will have to lower myself requesting your help. Now go away and celebrate
it. Isn´t that what you wanted?  To get free from my demands?"  With that,
Vegeta looked away again, expecting that she finally would go away.  However,
she just walked slowly towards him, as he was a cornered, wounded animal.

"You... you no longer need my help because you turned Super Saiyan, right?" she
offered hopefully.

Vegeta´s frown increased, hating so much that woman who forced him to remember
his ultimate humiliation. But did it matter now?  Nothing mattered anymore.

"I´ll never turn Super Saiyan," he muttered in such a low tone that wasn´t
even sure if she had heard his words.

Bulma´s arms dropped at her sides, giving in to the weight of the implications
that statement brought.

"Are you serious?" she asked very slowly.  Both her tone and posture would make
anyone think that she had suffered a defeat, too.  Vegeta glanced her in
curiosity, but didn´t trouble himself to respond to her. 

For long moments they stood there in silence, watching the lights and movement
at the house as a cold breeze grimly blew on their backs, creating a sense of
doom.  However, Bulma wasn´t a woman to give up.  She put a hand on his
shoulder, scaring the prince slightly.

"Come with me," she demanded.

He didn´t give any signs of having heard. Bulma opened her mouth to repeat,
then remembered something and fixed it quickly.

"Wait a moment... can you enter my laboratory and come back here without being
noticed?"

He couldn´t ignore such a funny question, even still refusing to look at her.

"Why?" he grunted.

"Because the capsules containing the copies I did of your cloth are in the
drawer of my desk. You´ll need some street clothes, too, cause I´m not going
to walk around with someone dressed as a spaceman."

"What makes you think I´m going with you?" this time he turned his head to
glare at her right in the eyes.

"Do you prefer to arrive there and be fussed over by mom´s friends?” Bulma
waved her head toward the party. “ They´re much worse than her, I warrant.
And if f I´m not wrong, Mrs. Pickle´s younger daughter is still single and
dying to find a handsome boyfr..."

For the first time since the scientist had found him there in those woods,
Vegeta had a reaction. His eyes opened wide in shock and horror, just for a few
seconds, before he stood up and dissapeared. In a split second, he had returned,
with a heavy bag of clothes in his hand.

"Are you standing there and laugh or are you going to drive that piece of junk
you call a car?" he growled, with a threatening glare that just made him look
even funnier.



                    Kapitel 14: "There´s a Hole in My Soul"
                    ---------------------------------------


There´s a Hole in My Soul...

The entire Capsule Corp was shaken by hottest musical hits played by the media,
and as loud as it could without deafening anybody. At the tables spread
throughout the terrace, the finest food and drink ran around, along with empty
talking and the last gossip about who was sleeping with who and the ugly,
old-fashioned dress Mrs. Doe was wearing. Krillin almost dislocated his jaw by
yawning, as he helped himself of a second glass of juice. He was trying to keep
himself sober, since his two companions never did that and someone would have to
drive the car back home.

"Watch it with that," he said well-humouredly at Oolong as the pig passed by him
carrying a plate with three different pieces of cake and at least ten types of
salty refreshments. "You wouldn´t like to add a stomahache to your
urticaria..." he couldn´t help but laughing at the memory.

Apparently, Mutenroshi had stolen a luxury potion of his sister Uranai couple of
years ago, and had waited for a good oportunity to use it. Whoever drank the
potion would be mad with lust for the first person he/she saw after drinking it.
When the old man finally found himself alone with Bulma, he took the chance and
dropped the potion at in her orange juice. But his usual advances irritated
Bulma and she ran off just when Krillin and Oolong were coming back home. To
make matters even more interesting, Oolong found and drank the juice. However,
the smart Uranai Baba had obviously switched her potions because, instead of
jumping on his friends, Oolong started to scratch himself frantically. That just
increased the irritation causing the pig to strip completely and roll
desperately on the sand, before rocketing inside of the house after the cheese
grater. Only after an hour and a half the terrible itching calmed down, thanks
to lots of vasaline and talcum powder. But what really hurt Oolong was that
Mutenroshi just lamented cynically that it hadn´t been Bulma who had drunk the
potion and rolled naked on the sand.

"That´s not funny!" Oolong fumed at the memory, his chubby face turning
crimson. "I had to spread the talcum powder all over, now I´m smelling like a
baby _and I´m still itching. And since I was dragged to this blasted party at
least I´ll enjoy as I can."

" 'Dragged'... " Krillin mocked "It was you who yelled at Master Roshi for
having made Bulma run before she had the chance to invite us."

In fact, it had been Oolong who reminded them-- after the itching lessened
enough for him to think about other stuff-- that Bulma´s birthday was close,
and that she probably had come to invite them for her party, as usual.

'And, thanks to you, we´ll no longer be invited!" he had concluded, pointing an
accusing finger at Mutenroshi.

'If I remember correctly, you never liked Bulma´s birthday," the old
martial-arts master had replied harshly. " So what are you complaining about?"

After much arguing and wondering, they concluded that there was no better way to
satisfy their curiosity than going personally to Capsule Corp to see what she
wanted. And there really was a party and they hadn´t been invited. But the
annoyance about this fact faded away quickly when they realized that none of
their friends were there, too, and so wasn´t the person whose birthday was
being celebrated.

Of course, it was Mrs. Briefs who enlightened them about these facts. She
welcomed them warmly and gleefully as usual, even though she was also a little
surprised.

"You didn´t join Bulma and Goku-chan at the new mission?" the blonde asked.

"Mission?" Kameroshi chorused. Mrs. Briefs gave a sigh.

"My poor little baby, she called yesterday to say that she had to go in another
urgent mission to save the world. From an evil scientist, or something. She
couldn´t even stay for own birthday party, but asked us to give it just as if
she was here to celebrate with us. I´m so sorry I haven´t invited you three,
but we thought you were on the mission, too."

"Oh yes," Krillin´s face brightened up. He gave a quick warning look to his
friends before turning back to Mrs Briefs “ It´s Doctor Gero,” he explained
“ He´s all set upon killing Goku and will be able to cause a lot of trouble
if someone won´t stop him."

Inwardly, the monk didn´t know if he was bothered with Bulma´s lies or if he
just found it funny. That tricky rascal... she had invented that to escape from
her own party. She just didn´t count on the fact her friends could actually
come. It would be laughable if it wasn´t so pathetic. Krillin felt sorry for
Bulma´s parents, who certainly didn´t deserve to know the truth after having
the whole trouble to celebrate their daughter´s birthday, even if it was not
the way she would like. For that second reason, Krillin also felt sorry for her,
remembering the reasons why he and his friends didn´t want to come.

Usually, Bulma´s parties were lots of fun. She had lots of imagination and
always figured out new ways of entertaining her friends, not mentioning that the
barbecues, desserts and all the food served in these parties were nothing but
the best. While her birthday parties...

He looked up to stare at the flags and bows and other stuff in pastel colours
that adorned the entire place. That looked like the birthday of a twelve
year-old girl, not a woman who had just reached age thirty. She had certainly
run away to avoid dying of humiliation. The guests were even worse than the
decorations. The little monk took a step back to avoid running into a bubbling
group of old ladies (all of them looked alike Mrs. Briefs and had curls - anyone
could think that was a Lucille Ball fan club). His move almost caused him to
smack into a fancy dressed couple that came in the opposite direction. He
apologized promptly, but couldn´t escape from two disapproving glares and a
whisper from the woman asking why the security hadn´t blocked the entrance of
that ' riff-raff' .

He wondered if Bulma actually knew these people who were there drinking and
eating at her family´s expenses. Okay, it was understandable that her parents
would want also to invite their own friends; and that Dr. Briefs invited his
shareholds for business or just to make his daughter know them better. But, why
they didn´t they throw their own parties for that? Most confusing of all was
the fact that Bulma, so bossy and self assured put up with all that instead of
imposing her own will. As much as he tried, Krillin couldn´t find an answer, so
he just shrugged and gave up. The Briefs were absolutely incomprehensible.

"It´s so original, don´t you think? A birthday party without the person who´s
having the birthday!" said a female voice behind his back.

Krillen turned around to see two women seated on a table a few meters behind
him. One of them--the one who had talked - had red, short hair; her friend had
black, wavy hair, ressembling Bulma´s last hairstyle. They talked happily and
loudly, obviously a little drunk.

"It´s a shame that her friends haven´t forgotten to come, too. What a bunch of
hooligans!" Red-Hair added in.

Clenching his teeth, Krillen sneaked towards them and hid himself behind of one
the giant flower vases beside their table.

"Well, I wished that Miss Bulma never came to another party again... or even to
work!" Black Hair burst out with an evident grudge.

"Now you´re asking too much," her friend laughed.

"No, I´m not! Isn´t she a grreat scientist? One of these days her experiments
will go wrong and she´ll become invisible - or, better yet, she´ll be soooooo
small that nobody´ll find her again. " Black Hair started in a mocking,
sarcastic voice" ' Miss Sae, have you seen Miss Briefs? ' 'No sir, we haven´t
seen her ...oops, I think I just found her, sir.' " the dark woman, or Sae,
stretched her foot from under the table and stepped on it like she was smashing
an insect. Her friend burst into a laugh.

"Wow! You really don´t like Miss Briefs."

"And you, do you like her?"

Red Hair took a few moments and downed another glass of whisky before admitting
she didn´t, either.

"Ya gotta be joking, who could ever really like that bitch?" they made a pause
to laugh before she continued, "Now, seriously - everybody here does the best to
please her, but I honest don´t believe that someone really likes Miss Bulma.
They just fear her, even her parents. What other reason it could be for them
using that horrible decorations," she looked up to wrinkle her nose at the paper
chains hanging above her head. "I don´t believe that the poor old couple have
such a bad taste, they just did that for her."

"If Miss 'Buma' is really their daughter," Sae sneered. "In my opinion, she was
just tossed away in the hospital trash can and Mr. Briefs picked her up the same
way he does to every hungry stray mutt and cats he finds. Poor little old man!"

Krillen had heard enough. Completely disgusted, he slid out of his hideout and
sneaked own, shocked that Bulma had to work along that kind of... uh, people. He
was glancing again at his watch when a heavy hand fell on his shoulder,
startling him. He turned around in a jump to see Mutenroshi holding his
millionth glass of sake.

" 'Hiccup' It´s a wonder... wonderful party, dontcha fi... think dat, Krillen?"
the old man stuttered, almost suffocating his pupil with a breath heavy with
alcohol " I don´t und..undstand why Bulma ran ov..."

Krillin fast removed the glass of his master´s hand as the same time he cut him
off.

"I think you already have drunk too much, master," he said softly, his brain
giving him a devious idea. "You should distract yourself with anything else...
those beautiful girls, for example," with one hand on his master´s shoulder, he
made him turn around as he pointed at Sae and his red-haired friend. "I heard
them say they´re feeling very, very lonely."

Mutenroshi sobered a little. Krillin almost could see his eyes undressing the
two women behind of his sun glasses.

"The black-haired girl with the short skirts, especially... " he whispered at
his masters´ ear. "I just heard her say that she prefers older men."

"Really?" Roshi´s mouth stretched in a large, toothless grin. In his state of
almost delirium tremens, he was almost as naive as chibi Goku.

"Really... I heard her say that young men doesn´t know absolutely what a woman
really needs. And that only these men who have lived too much have experience.
But it´s embarassing for her admitting that publicly. You see, people wouldn´t
understand if they saw a beautiful girl like her dating an old man. They would
say she´s crazy or that she´s just after his money."

"That´s nonsense. Ov... of course she´s right! Older men like me are much more
experienced than any boy filled with brah.. brawns! And I have no money, anyway.
I´m going to tell her that personally," he stated, marching toward the two
women in a determined pace, despite his alcoholic condition.

Krillin grinned evilly. Those two bitches would have a bad time into getting rid
from the insistent pervert- and not before having both received a few pinches at
the proper places. It worth to see that, even if that kept them stuck a few
minutes more in that boring party.

"Kriliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnn!!!! Ah, you´re there!" A high-pitched voice
singsonged at his young man whirled around in jump and almost collided with the
wide body of an immense, sixty-old woman.

"Oh no, " he thought, recognizing her as one of Mrs. Briefs´ best friends.

"H-Hello, Mrs. Pickle," Krillin stuttered, his mouth stretching in an
embarrassed, fake grin.

"You´re not leaving now, are you? It´s too early yet."

"O...of course not. I´m just waiting for my master," Krillin said as he heard
the sound of a slap and Mutenroshi´s voice screaming in pain.

"That´s great! So come and talk a bit with us," Mrs. Pickle said as she
practically dragged him toward the same group of old, noisy women that Krillin
had almost ran into almost one hour ago. As he was welcomed with several
pleasured, ear-poking squeals and giggles, Krillin felt like a chubby baby and
expected to have his face pinched at any moment.

"So good that Picklie has found you! We´re so avid to hear a few stories about
you, martial -arts champions!" squealed a tall, scrawny old woman “Tell me,
Krillie, are you really bald or do you shave your head to help in your
fighting?"

As Krillin opened his mouth, he was cut by a barrage of other questions. The
shots came from all the sides; he hardly could tell who asked what.

"It´s hard to believe you´re really a fighter, being so small. Did you were
never afraid of getting hurt?"

"Are all your friends as brawny and pretty as Yamcha-kun?"

"By the way, can you tell me if he really broke up with Bulma or not? My
daughter is depressed because she hasn´t a boyfriend..."

‘I hope you´re having a GREAT time wherever you are, Bulma' the young man
thought sarcastically.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Feeling better now?" Bulma asked to her guest as she raised his arm up. "Oh,
thanks for having not broken the thermometer. This is the only one I have."

The patient just growled in response.

"Don´t complain. You should be grateful that I havent´put this thermometer in
your mouth - or in the opposite hole. Yes, that´s exactly what you´re
thinking," she laughed at his now wide-opened eyes and paused to examine the
small glass tube.

"Enough humorless jokes! How is my temperature?"

She gave him a patient, though slightly hard look.

"It´s really a shame that this is not an oral thermometer. Hmmm.... there´s
still some fever, but not much. These Palenol pills are really good! We´re
lucky that Dad has demanded a small emergency medicine cabinet at every capsule
house built by our company. It would be very dangerous for a pretty woman like
me to go out so late in the night to..."

"You could have spared yourself from all that trouble by leaving me where I
was," Vegeta cut her off as he turned to the side on the sofa. His only comfort
was that at least Mrs. Briefs wasn´t there with them, to fret with Bulma about
his feverish condition. One of the two was more than enough!

"You´re so ungrateful! " the young scientist planted her hands on her hips
indignantly. "I could be hanging around with a handsome boy right now, but
instead no, I chose to play nurse for you, so you could at least recognize that.
By the way, why didn´t you tell me that you were feeling sick before we ate our
dinner? Don´t you know that eating when you´re feverish can cause your stomach
to revolt?"

In all the romances of Bulma´s teenager hood, fever was something romantic and
revealing. The feverish people tossed on their beds calling by their beloved
ones - frequently someone they pretended to hate when they were well. Nobody in
these romances had shivers or vomited. Some writers were positively very
stupid.

Vegeta mumbled something as he closed his eyes tight. He no longer felt cold,
but he still felt terrible, and the woman´s comment about his nausea during
dinner just made him more conscious of his hurting stomach. Actually, he was
already feeling sick before Bulma had found him at those woods on the back of
Capsule Corp. However, he had expected to feel better soon, after a nice cold
shower and something to eat. But now there he was. Everything was his fault
because he had been too stubborn and proud to admit in front of Bulma how sick
he was. Pride, ha... Vegeta didn´t know how he could still retain some pride,
after everything that had happened to him. It was impossible for him to fall
lower than he was now.

He didn´t see the thoughtful look Bulma gave at him, but when she spoke again
her voice was sad and soft.

"I think there´s no danger for you into sleeping now. Just call me if you need
anything."

Vegeta felt something soft and warm being carefully put over his body. Through
his closed eyelids, he felt the world getting darker, a sign that she had put
the lights out. The entire place fell into silence, broken only the distant
sound of the crickets outside and a smooth, regular breath brushing his leg.

It was no surprise, by the next day Vegeta woke up completely recovered and
hungry. Still, no physical strength, food or medicine could heal whatever had
been broken inside. Bulma was wise enough to not ask any questions. Instead, she
just told him she would be traveling for a few days. He could follow her or
leave; it would make no difference to her. The only condition was that, if he
chose to stay, he would have to hunt his own food, because she didn’t have
enough money left in her wallet to buy supplies for both. In response, he just
shrugged and left.

During countless hours, he flew, not caring about directions or the passage of
time. Finally, he landed and stood in the middle of an empty meadow, feeling the
caress of the wind and watching the long grass leaves undulating at his feet.
That wide, empty place was a relief, after months surrounded by noisy Earthlings
and their silly chattering. It even reminded him a little of some planets he had
'visited' in his old days, after purging them of every form of life. Those
missions were where he felt the closest thing to a sense of a relief in his
tormented life - they gave him a momentary feeling of freedom, even if
delusional.

Now that he was really free, he didn´t know what to do. All Vegeta could see
ahead for him were empty years of a meaningless life on this stupid planet.
Kakaroto would defeat the Androids by himself as he would have to resign himself
to just stand and watch, just like the useless friends of the third class
soldier did. His nails buried into the palms of his gloved hands, piercing
through the cloth while hateful tears came to his eyes. Well, maybe not. He had
also the option of attacking the tin dolls before Kakarot and letting them kill
him, just like that future half-breed boy had said it would happen. At least he
would die as a Saiyan and cleanse himself of all that dishonor and shame.

But the more that Vegeta thought of that possibility, the more he realized he
didn´t want to die again. The realization made his eyes spring wide open and
his body straighten unconsciously. Why? He was completely defeated and had
nothing else to grasp at, not the slightest hope. Just like... when he realized
he wasn´t able to defeat Freeza, despite all his efforts.

No. Not exactly like that situation. He felt despaired and impotent now, just
like in that terrible moment, but it was somehow... different.... something
inside of him refused to give up so easily. Something in the info Kakarot had
given him about how turning into Super Saiyan didn´t make sense... something
was wrong.

"But why, Hell, why? I have already tried everything! There´s nothing left for
me to do!" he screamed at the deaf, indifferent meadow. “Damn you, Kakarot...
if it wasn´t for you, I wouldn´t have hit rock bottom."

And if his rival was now alive, Vegeta was in part responsible now. He still
could remember his own words to Radditz, when the low classed ass had told him
he had found out the planet his little brother had been sent years ago, and
asked if he should go after Kakarott.

"What for? Since he was sent to that planet before Vegeta-sei was destroyed, he
must be only twelve now. A weak, low-classed brat would be no use for us now.
Just keep your damn mouth shut, if you´re able to, Radditz. If you blurt out
about your brother close to any of those soldiers, Freeza will know in a couple
of minutes -and caput! No little brother anymore. Do you understand that?"

Not that any of them truly cared about the brat´s life. But, weak or not,
another Saiyan always could be useful in Vegeta´s plan against Freeza. And
Kakarott really had been useful... and how!

"If I only had known..." the prince grited his teeth, every drop of his blood
boiling with hate.

He never should have put his feet on Earth. He should have blown it up from
afar, just like he had done to Arlia. At least, he would not have been
contaminated by the stupid emotions of the Earthlings. Vegeta´s mind was so
numbed by anger and hate that he forgot completely that probably even he
wouldn´t be alive now, if he hadn´t made sure that Freeza didn´t know there
was a younger, fourth Saiyan somewhere out in space. The only thing he could see
now where the long, empty years ahead, the humiliation... Was everything he had
learned throughout his childhood wrong?

"I didn´t went Super Saiyan because I was close to death. That only happened
because I was too hurt and furious, when Freeza killed Krillin."

Clutching his head with gloved hands as if he didn´t want to hear the hated
voice echoing in his mind, Vegeta closed his eyes tight and crouched, almost in
a fetal position.

"No! I don´t want to believe that! Only weaklings have feelings! I am Vegeta! I
don´t need any feelings!"

"Yes, you do," insisted the voice in his mind. "Or you´ll never be able to turn
Super Saiyan."

"No. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

His anguished howl broke the silence in the meadow, followed by the wind and
earth trembling caused by his raising ki. For a few seconds, his hair flickered
into gold, just to turn to black again. He didn´t notice it. Still, the energy
liberated in his revolt burned the entire vegetation for meters around him in a
circle and the earth opened in a crater under his feet. By the next day, the
radio and newspapers would be reporting about the probable visit and explosion
of an UFO at that meadow, and some farmers and local inhabitants would win their
fifteen minutes of fame by describing the disk in detail and how they had
narrowly escaped the explosion. Nobody would ever know the real cause of
that--save a few warriors, that naturally felt Vegeta´s ki raising and would
just shake their heads.)

Finally, he powered down. Falling on his knees,Vegeta pounded downwards, opening
new holes at the crater in pure frustration, until giving up to exhaustion and
lying face down on the earth.

Since Vegeta had eaten more than half of her food during breakfast, Bulma
considered seriously the possibility of encapsulating the house and going to the
nearest town to buy supplies. Still, she simply didn´t find any strength to do
anything better than spending the day lying on her bed and watching television.
Birthdays always made her feel a little depressed at the next day, especially if
she was left alone.

"BULMA!" an entirely unexpected scream thundered through the entire house at the
same time the front door slammed against the opposite wall with a bang.
Completely astounded by both the deafening noises and the pain caused when she
jumped and hit her head on the roof, poor Bulma had no time to even to process,
let alone say anything. The sound of boots thundered in the direction of her
room for a few seconds before Vegeta burst in and grabbed Bulma by her T-shirt.

"Where is the dragon radar?" he demanded.

"Uh? What?! Hey, what do you think..." a violent shake that almost ripped her
T-shirt out cut her off.

"THE DRAGON RADAR!!!" Vegeta roared, as if Bulma was at the extreme side of the
house and not at milimiters in front of his face. "You brought it, haven´t
you?"

It took Bulma a few seconds to understand what it was happening.

"I-It´s not with me," she stammered. She never had feared Vegeta so much since
Namek. "I swear!"

Choosing another tactic, Vegeta gave a devious smile.

"Don´t lie to me..." he said. His eyes slowly examined her from head to toe.
That was one of his favorite techniques for bullying. Just that moment, he
realized that Bulma was only in T-shirt and panties - and these last ones were
appearing because of his grip on her T-shirt. He immediately released her and
turned around, arms automatically crossing.

"Better not lie to me," he corrected his words, trying to look as cold as usual.
"Do you really want me to believe that you started this meaningless trip just
for the pleasure of wandering away?"

"Why not?" Bulma snapped out as she indignantly straightened the folds on her
messed T-shirt. "Why is it everything we do must be done with second intentions?
I just wanted to take some time away from my life and my family picking on me
every time! THEN I decided it could be nice to search the dragonballs again and
ask for a nice boyfriend. That´s why I went back home. When you found me, I was
thinking of the best way to get into the house and get the radar without being
noticed. But you scared me so much with that appearance of yours -no kidding,
you really looked like death then - that I asked you to get the radar for me,
along with your clothes. So, if we don´t have it now, it´s your fault!"

Vegeta´s eyes widened out in shock. Damn it! So, if he had found her a few
seconds later... Everything seemed to conspire against him, ultimately.

"Where do you guard that contraption? In your room or your lab?" he demanded.

"Why do you want to know?" she looked back.

For a few seconds, they remained staring at each other, in a sort of silent
showdown. Finally, Vegeta lost his last tiny remain of patience.

"Fuck you! I´m going to find that radar even if I´ll have to burn the entire
place to ground!" he snapped as he turned around to leave her. Bulma followed
him.

"Why do you need the dragon radar so much?" she asked suspiciously. "Are you
planning to ask Shen-long to turn you into a Super Saiyan? Or do you want him to
take the Super Saiyan thing from Goku?"

Vegeta stopped abruptly. Bingo. A wicked, triumphant smile slowly stretched
Bulma´s mouth.

"Cause I have bad news for you. Shen-long can´t do that," she stated, her arms
crossing victoriously.

Vegeta started walking again. He was already a few steps from the front door,
and Bulma ran desperately after him. If he flew away, she wouldn´t be able to
reach him and everything would be lost.

"I´m talking seriously, you blockhead!" she yelled into his ears, as if this
could put some sense in him. "The dragonballs never can more powerful than their
creator. That´s why Shen-long can´t do anything against people who are
stronger than him."

Vegeta stopped again. Bulma was so close to him that collided painfully against
his stony back. She had to grab on the Saiyan’s shoulders to prevent herself
from collapsing. He whirled around, an eyebrow raised in suspicious.

"Don´t you dare trick me."

"I´m not! Just think a little. When you, Saiyans were coming to Earth, why do
you think that we didn´t ask Shen-long to finish with you instead of
sacrificing the lives of our friends? And you probably must have heard of the
disaster that happened to Namekusei years ago... why do you think that the
Namekians didn´t use the dragonballs to keep that from happening?"

Bulma almost could see the wheels in Vegeta´s head turning, as the look in his
eyes gradually changed. He wasn´t a moron, and all that made too much sense.

"Shen-long and Porunga can bring anyone back to life, powerful or not," she
explained. "Since him or her hasn´t died of natural causes. Saiyans, Namekians,
monsters... The dragons can rejuvenate, too. But they can´t power someone down,
or give him more power!" " she finished, mentally praying that was true.

She felt like she had told to a little boy that Santa Claus didn´t exist. A
series of expressions that could cause envy to any actor -shocked realization,
frustration, impotence, self-anger - until Vegeta recovered the defeated
appearance he had when Bulma found him at the last night. His shoulders slumped,
his head bowed slightly, his eyes staring at something unseen, as if he
couldn´t believe that life once again had kicked his butt. Bulma fought against
the tears that threatened to come.

"Wouldn´t you like to come and sit with me a little?" she asked sweetly. Vegeta
glared at her again, and she forced a smile.

"C´mon, " she insisted, leaning a hand on his shoulder. "You haven´t recovered
completely yet, that´s evident."

Vegeta allowed her to guide him to the living room, like a puppet without any
will of his own. Letting his body slump down on the couch, he glowered at the
opposite wall, as he absently felt Bulma sitting besides him, the warmth of her
perfect thighs so close to his.

"It´s hopeless," he muttered, as if it cost him to make the words. "What´s the
good of being the most mighty warrior in the universe, if year after year all my
plans and ideas lead to nothing? All my youth wasted buying into a dream...
which was nothing but a dream!" he stared at a small, humid dot that had formed
at the synthetic fabric of the sofa, between his legs. Great. Now he was going
to cry in front of the woman... that was the last thing necessary to complete
his shame. Luckily, other tears didn´t come.

"I know very well how that feels," her sad voice broke the long silence. He just
glared in her direction.

"It´s true," she insisted defensively. "I can guess exactly what you´re
thinking : how do I dare to compare my pathetic life to yours? All right, I
might not have lost my planet, my house or my entire family. I´m not a
princess, but my situation is not much different from yours. When I was sixteen,
I traveled throughout the world in search of a boyfriend because I was bored and
didn´t want to be alone anymore. I couldn´t make my wish to Shen-long, but it
become true: I gained not only a handsome boyfriend but also a bunch of friends
and had lots of adventures. But, after all these years, I look at myself and
think: what now? Deep down, I´m still lonely, bored and everybody still treats
me as a child. In resume, no matter what I do, my life remains the same, just
like yours."

"Why are you telling me all that?" the prince demanded. Almost against his will,
his eyes slipped down to her breasts slightly tight under her wrinkled T-shirt.
The tension and vision created by the cotton both revealed and hid her forms.
For Vegeta, that looked sexier than if she was wearing tight, low cut clothes.

"Because you don´t care," Bulma explained. "You´re not going to criticize me,
tell me what to do or gossip about me. You´re not nosy like my mother and
friends. And, as much as you deny it, I know that you actually LISTEN to me,
even when you seem to not pay attention. Maybe that´s why I feel so comfortable
when I´m with you, even more than when I´m with my folks."

Once disturbed, Vegeta was completely now stunned. Planting a hand beside
himself on the sofa, he felt once again the old urge to run away from that woman
and everything that had to do with her. But when he took impulse to get on his
feet, his hand casually brushed Bulma´s exposed thigh. Quickly, he plucked the
hand that still held the warm of her skin, as his eyes slipped stealthly to her
legs under the T-shirt.

"What makes you think that you can´t turn Super Saiyan?" she asked suddenly,
catching him off-guard. Forced to come back to his depressive reality, he had no
time to say anything besides a "huh?", so Bulma patiently repeated the
question.

"Kakarot told me how he become Super Saiyan," Vegeta explained grudgingly. The
simple memory of that talking made him feel ill. "He said he only could do it
because he went crazy when Freeza killed the baldy... Krillin."

Bulma nodded and moved her forefinger to her mouth, thoughtfully.

"Very like Goku", she said, sucking the point of her finger "I should have
imagined that. Krillin is his best friend, and Goku suffered too much when he
was killed by the first time."

"First time? Krillin had been killed before that?"

"Yes. A demon of Piccolo Daimao murdered him when Krillin and Goku were both
children", Bulma said, her voice shaking slightly at the horrible memory. "Of
course, Goku wished him back, but Shen-long can´t resurrect anybody more than
once. Probably that was why Krillin´s second death made Goku so mad: he didn´t
know that Porunga can bring back people who were resurrected before, and thought
that Krillin had died forever."

Vegeta made a mental note about the difference between the two dragons. It could
be useful later. He gave an unpleasant smirk.

"So Kakarot just transformed because he´d never see Cue Ball again," he
scoffed. "That could make one think that there´s more than friends..."

PLAF!

For the second time in his life Vegeta was hit by a woman. It didn´t hurt as
much as Chichi´s punch, and caused him more surprise than proper anger. But
even before he could open his mouth Bulma was already on her feet and angrily
shaking a finger on his face.

"YOU IDIOT! I can´t believe you said that! We´re talking about something very
important and all you can do is to say silly jokes and sit there whining because
you can´t turn Super Saiyan and that your life is a failure... no wonder your
life is a complete failure, because even when the answer stands in front of your
eyes YOU CAN´T SEE IT!"

"What answer?" he asked. Still stunned but with his temper already rising, he
pushed the offensive finger gently away.

"If you weren´t so busy ogling at me you´d have already noticed it! You just
said yourself what made Goku become Super Saiyan! Now all you have to do is to
find out what would make YOU so angry at the point of transforming, too!"

Both Vegeta´s jaw and hand dropped at her words. The young scientist smirked
triunphantly at his reaction.

"Ah, I see you understood," she gloated, crossing her arms. "Let me guess: you
thought that you couldn´t turn Super Saiyan, too because you have no friends or
feelings, thus nobody´s death would make you mad, right?"

"No!" Vegeta yelled automatically. However, his lie was so visible that he
couldn´t feel a slightly blush coming to his cheeks. Denying it was useless.
She was right, he was a complete idiot!

"What else can I think?" he admitted, his flush changing to a dark crimson.
"It´s hard to feel any angrier than I´m right now! If it was matter of
becoming angry, I´d have become Super Saiyan months ago!"

"So discover something that´ll make you even angrier," she stated calmly, then
made a pause and shook her head, sadness appearing in her eyes. "Vegeta, you and
Goku are completely different from each other, even though you belong to the
same race. Probably the way of turning Super Saiyan is different for both of
you, too. But you shouldn´t be punishing yourself like that..."

Rising her arm in his direction, she ran the tips of her fingers gently at the
face where, minutes ago, a tear had slid down.

"We still have three years to find a way," she continued, her eyes fixed on his.
"I know that, somehow, you´ll find a way to recover your pride."

For a long moment, the two pairs of eyes stared each other, almost unblinkly;
one, black, hard and unreadable; the other blue, anxious, almost pleading.

"What makes you THINK that you can´t turn Super Saiyan?" she had asked him,
Vegeta reminded. When it had been the last time that someone had so faith in him
like that?


The gloved hand shook slightly and raised to meet the bare one, that still
touched Vegeta´s face. The sudden contact startled Bulma, then she looked in
his eyes and saw he was smiling at her. An unpleasant smile, Bulma thought,
because his eyes were shining dangerously.

"I think it´s time to pay the clothes you made to me..." the prince muttered
roughly, resting his hands on Bulma´s shoulders. One hand slid down until it
met the woman´s waist and dragged her closer. "And a lot of other things," he
whispered into her ear.

Suddenly, without warning, he felt his head be caught by two hands and violently
turned to the side, her lips crushing against his at next. For a few seconds,
Vegeta didn´t know what to do with that, but she insisted; so he decided to
follow her movements and his own instincts. She was soft and warm, everything he
needed to distract his stressed, tormented brain. Once again he had recovered
hope; still, now he didn´t want to think about power, battles or anything
else... just feel, feel... and feel alive, for a change.

I just wanna feel
Real love feel the home that I live in
I got too much love
Running through my veins
To go to waste

I just wanna feel
Real love and the love ever after
There's a hole in my soul
You can see it in my face
It's a real big place



                        Kapitel 15: Plans and Surprises
                        -------------------------------


Plans and Surprises
 

Hunger. That was the best word to describe what happened during the following
hours, the way Bulma and Vegeta had thrown themselves at each other, as if they
had only been waiting for a green light. Frustrations, self-pressures and
existential emptiness were sent out the window along with the rest of the world,
waiting for the moment when they both would come back to reality. However
although none of them thought consciously about these things, they never were
forgotten entirely. They were still there, infiltrating every kiss, every brush
of their sculpted bodies, and every time sharing their delusional peace. 

Vegeta, as expected, was initially rough, to not say deaf to Bulma´s warnings
and suggestions, and there was a moment when she actually became scared of him.
Seeing that, he toned down a little and even condescended to follow some of her
instructions. That confirmed Bulma´s suspicion that Vegeta was afraid of
hurting her gravely - not that he cared, of course, but because of the possible
consequences. In the end, it had paid off; he almost having broken her arm, back
on that day when she rescued him from the gravity room.

The first time didn´t last very long and didn´t satisfy either of them.
Incredibly, though, they didn´t share more than a few short criticisms before
trying again. It was nonsensical to waste time with the long, usual arguments,
when they could just improve whatever had been good and fix whatever hadn´t
worked. The first thing Vegeta realized was that he had to control his force
even more than he was already doing, in order to keep his sex partner and source
of equipment alive. The first round had already produced a few bruises on her.

The hours turned into minutes, which were then reduced to mere seconds; the only
difference between day and night was the need to turn the lights on, since the
dark would spoil part of the fun. Neither Bulma nor Vegeta ever knew when sleep
finally won; both practically passed out, their minds completely clean from
dreams or thoughts. And, undoubtedly, it was the best sleep they both had in
months.

When Bulma finally rose exhaustedly from the blankets, she noticed in shock that
it was almost 11 A.M of the next day. The other side of the bed was empty and
cold. Although that was somewhat expected, she felt her heart sink a little.
What did she expect, the woman admonished herself. That Vegeta would watch her
sleeping until she woke up, or that he would wake her with a kiss? She had taken
so long admitting to herself her true feelings for him because she couldn´t
expect any love from that man! 

But maybe that could be changed throughout the next months. 
 
Spirited up by the optimistic thought, she dressed in her robe and slippers.
Vegeta lusted for her. A man like him certainly wouldn´t be satisfied only with
one night - especially with a woman like Bulma Briefs!  Besides, he still needed
her help to become more powerful, so he still would have to stay for a long time
at her house. Time enough, perhaps, for taming him little by little. That would
certainly make her friends gape in astonishment. They always belittled her, but
now they would see.
 
Picking up and turning on a small radio that she found at the bedside table,
Bulma slid it in the large pocket of her robe. That would keep her company as
she fixed her brunch. The song sung by Tina Turner sounded a little pessimistic
for her plans, but the rhythm was pleasant. Besides, Bulma was too consumed in
her thoughts to pay attention to the lyrics as she crossed the living room.
 
“What love´s got to do, got to do with this?" she sang along. “What´s
love, but a second hand emotion?  Who needs a heart when a heart can be
brok...WAAHHH!!!" screaming at the surprise of her foot connecting to something
soft, she lost her balance and fell over a body stretched on the carpet.  
 
"You blind bitch!" screamed a voice beneath her, before two hands pushed her
body brutally to the side, making her thud softly on the carpet. "Can´t you
look where you’re walking?"
 
"You had nothing to lie on the carpet and you’re right in my way! Do you like
playing dead this early in the morning?" Bulma lectured as she stood up
painfully.
 
Vegeta stood up, too. He was dressed with fresh, clean battle clothes, obviously
taken from the luggage Bulma had instructed him to bring.
 
"I was doing push-ups, although that´s not of your business.  And it´s not
early. It´s almost two hours since I´ve woken up," he snapped, his disdainful
tone making clear what Vegeta thought about late-sleepers.
 
"Only two hours?" Bulma sneered. She counted on her fingers. "Then you got up at
8:00 today, instead of 5:00, as you always do. Wow! I knew I was an amazing
woman, but not enough to wear out a Saiyan so much!" 
 
It was too bad that Vegeta´s outfit covered his entire body, leaving only his
head exposed. Bulma was almost sure that the reddeness on his face had spread
from head to toe. Still laughing, she walked past the very disturbed prince as
he sputtered something about 'vulgarity' and 'pretension'.
 
 "Well, I hope you have left something in the fridge," she said, some laughter
still in her voice. "Pity it´s too late, it would have been lovely to have
eaten our breakfast in bed. But we can make it up at lunch.”

"I´m not going to eat lunch with you."

Bulma stopped on her way to the kitchen and slowly turned around. Yeah, this had
been really too good to be true.

"Sorry, I forgot you have to train," she said slowly and sarcastically, without
even bothering to hide her disappointment. "I don´t know why you´re still here
wasting your time talking to me, since the androids are almost at our door."

"You´re not only stupid, you´re childish, too. Do you never think?" Vegeta
lectured.  “If I´ll stay out too long, your people might associate my absence
with yours, and they have big mouths. I don´t want Kakarott and the other
idiots discussing MY private business - and, by the look in your face, I presume
you don´t want that too," he concluded, smirking at the two rosy spots that
appeared on Bulma´s cheeks. 

She never had cared much about what others could say about her. However, things
were changing ultimately. She was preparing herself to take her father´s place
as the head of Capsule Corp. That wouldn´t work if she lacked the respect of
their employees, shareholders and investors, what certainly would happen if her
love affair with the 'mysterious guest of the Briefs' spreaded throughout the
entire company. More importantly, how would her friends react if they discovered
that she had slept with the man that had killed a few of them and tried to
destroy the Earth?  Waves of revolt run through her. Damn it, that was no one´s
business! They never actually paid her much attention, except when it was
necessary to fix something; so, what say did any of them have in her private
life? On the other hand, she wasn´t sure which road her relationship with
Vegeta could take. Should she jeopardize losing all her bonds of friendship for
something that could last just a few months or even a few days? 

"Or even forever," a secret voice whispered in her mind.

"Maybe you’re right," she mumbled reluctantly as Vegeta walked past her toward
the exit door. "At least by now is better we keep it secret. But why did you
wait all this time for me to wake up? Just to tell me these things?"

Vegeta opened the door and looked upon his shoulder with a very unpleasant
smirk.

"Because," he said very slowly, as if measuring each word. “When I´ll come
back tonight I want to find this house right here. Or someone will regret it a
lot." with that, he stepped out. Not before noticing that his words had made her
jaw drop in awe.

When Bulma finally reacted out of her stupor and ran out of the house, he had
disappeared into the sky. Walking away from the house, the young woman stopped
to look up at the bright sky, as blue as the uniforms she had made a few days
ago. It looked felt like months now. A gentle breeze played with her robe,
making it brush against her bare skin and refreshing the heat caused by the sun
of almost mid-day.

What had she gotten into this time?

"Well, if he thinks I´m going to be stuck here all day like a whore at his
disposal, he’s got another thing coming        " she said, but a smile belied
the sharpness of her words. (Or she could say, he’s full of it.) Pulling the
robe closer around her body, she turned around and strolled back to the house.
“If I´m not mistaken," she said to herself "they built a new mall at the East
City..."
 
That same night, when Vegeta came back to the capsule house he found Bulma
waiting for him with Chinese food, a see-through lace nightgown and a pile of
safe sex stuff and very instructive books.
 
"So?" Vegeta asked many hours later, when he felt able to speak again. "Didn´t
I tell you that you´d regret a lot if you left?"
 
The truth was that he would have regretted a lot if he decided not to come back.
Vegeta had doubted seriously that the small house would be still in that camp
when he returned. And he certainly hadn’t expected such a welcoming reception.
Absently, the prince flipped though one of the illustrated books, stopping to
study one of the colorful photographs. Hmm, sometimes Earthlings were full of
surprises!
 
"Maybe you´re right," Bulma sighed blissfully as she brushed her face on his
shoulder. "By the way, I didn´t know that you could read Earth writing."
 
"I had to learn, in order to pilot the ship your father has built," Vegeta
explained grudgingly. "While you entertained the Namekian clowns, I was
deciphering the computer."
 
"So that was why we almost never saw you during that year! I thought that you
spent the whole time training in the desert." Bulma laughed, although she felt
slightly disappointed. One of the things she was counting on to get closer to
Vegeta was to convince him he needed to learn Earth writing, and, naturally, she
would offer herself then to teach him. But that was all right, she had other
cards up her sleeve. Besides, Bulma couldn´t help but admiring once again how
much intelligent he actually was.

"It must have been very difficult," she commented.

"Humph. Not a bit. Earth computer are nothing but child toys. Besides, your
father gave an option to choose between Earth and Saiyan languages, although I
have no idea how he learned our writing."

"Probably he used the computer of the ship that brought Goku to Earth. That was
the material Daddy used to build the ship. Well, its better like this. That way,
you´re not going to embarrass us when we´ll take a walk on the shopping
together, tomorrow."
 
 "Take a walk in the mall? Where did you get such nonsense from?" Vegeta leaned
on one elbow to stare at her as if she was crazy.
 
 
"I´m not going to bore myself here while you have your fun at the Gravity
Chamber.” Bulma said as she pulled the sheet to cover her bare chest, in a
defensive manner. “After all, the idea of this trip was mine. I thought we
could just forget our tasks for a while and just hang around somewhere..."
 
"Forget it," Vegeta cut her off. "I`m not going to walk among the Earthlings, or
do whatever you and that silly boyfriend of yours used to do.” In order to
emphasize his words, he laid a hand on Bulma´s shoulder and pulled her forward,
forcing her to look at him in the eyes. "Am I clear?"
 
She glared back at him in response.
 
"Am I clear?" Vegeta insisted.
 
The air between their eyes was so tense that they almost could see sparks.
Vegeta couldn´t help finding her resistance exciting, but she had to learn who
was in charge there. Finally, Bulma seemed to give in.
 
"Very clear." Slowly, her pursed lips relaxed in a seductive smile.  “Now, if
you´ll take your fingers from my shoulder..." Vegeta obeyed, and she opened her
mouth in a large, fake yawn "...I´m going to sleep. I´m very tired." With
that, the young woman covered herself and turned to the side, leaving the prince
horny and frustrated.

Vegeta opened his mouth, but his pride gave him a strong pinch. There was no way
he was going to make her think that she could manipulate him like that. He had
spent too many years without having any women around. The next morning, he woke
up as early as he could, dressed and flied flew away before Bulma would wake up,
too. For one week or two, he would be far from her, until the woman came after
him crying and moaning because of his abandonment. And he would just smirk and
say he had already paid for the clothes Bulma had made for him. If she wanted a
continuation, then, well, there would be a price. Vegeta couldn´t wait to see
the look in on her face! 

Nobody noticed when Vegeta landed at the Capsule Corp yard, since Bulma´s
parents were sleeping and it was too early for the employees coming to work. He
spent practically the entire day confined to the Gravity Room, leaving just for
a quick meal at the middle of the afternoon. He no longer joined the Briefs at
table, preferring to eat after their meals. That was part of his policy to keep
as little contact as possible with the Earthlings, with only a blue-haired
exception. However, when night came, his stomach was protesting too much to let
him concentrate. Besides, Vegeta had casually overheard the blonde commenting in
the hallway that she would cook a dish that he enjoyed for dinner. Now, the
delicious smell coming from the kitchen entered his sensitive nostrils and
increased his discomfort. It seemed on purpose! Well, maybe this time it would
be worth it to put up with that annoying, silly woman.

Or maybe not, he thought a few moments later as he cringed at the blonde´s
usual greeting squeals.

"Vegeta! I´m so happy you´re dining with us again!" Mrs. Briefs cooed. "And
what a coincidence, right when Bulma came back to us, too. Isn´t that
wonderful? I know you missed her a lot."

From the other side of the table, Bulma didn´t even look up from her plate. It
was clear that she was deliberately ignoring him.

"Like a bellyache,” Vegeta mumbled as he took a seat and waited for Mrs.
Briefs while she was getting him a plate. He wasn´t surprised at Bulma´s
return home; actually, if she had done that instead of keep waiting for him in
the middle of nowhere, it showed she had some self-respect. "I was wondering
when she would stop being lazy and come back to work," he added teasingly.

Bulma´s eyes sparkled and she finally looked up to glare at him, her mouth
opened to reply. But when she saw his smirk, she just opened her mouth and
looked at her food.

"Well,” Dr Briefs started as if he felt the tension between the two. "It´s
really amazing. There´s too much work to do that I couldn´t handle without
Bulma´s aid. I always get a little worried when she has to go out on these
missions to help  save Earth."

"Missions?" Vegeta sneered, raising one amused eye from the food. Now the
hanky-panky had another name.

"Yes. Didn´t you know?" Mrs. Briefs explained. "Bulma and Goku had to go after
that horrible Doctor Gero! Y´know, I don´t understand why some people have to
threaten our beautiful planet, instead of living in peace..."

Vegeta´s hand stopped in mid air, crushing the fork half-way of to his mouth.
The head of the fork fell on the table with a clatter, spilling bits of the food
it carried. With a snarl, he glared at the young woman seated at the other side
of the table. She looked as shocked as him by her mother´s words, her face as
white as the tiles of the kitchen; to Vegeta´s heated mind, however, that
seemed a guilty look. 

Bulma struggled desperately to speak, just to discover, like in a nightmare,
that her voice was stuck in her throat. Vegeta´s murderous look had apparently
some power over her vocal cords. Jumping to his feed, the chair stumbling
backwards, he raised his hand. Squealing in panic, Bulma backed away and raised
her hands to cover her face. Too many times she had already experienced that
feeling of living her last few seconds of life. But all those times she had
somehow escaped from death; now this was for real and she would be dead for
good. She already could see the blinding light that would disintegrate
everything around, reducing the entire Capsule Corp to a smoking crater.

She heard a crash and her parents screaming in fear, but no light came through
her closed eyelids. Instead, she felt something clammy spreading on her skin and
a slight pain in her neck, like small needles. 

"Didn´t I tell you to stay out of this or I would kill you? Did you think I was
kidding?" Vegeta´s voice roared.

Bulma opened her eyes. Both her face and new dress had food splattered all over
by something that seemed like bean paste (I´m not sure about how they call that
Japanese plate with smashed beans). The table lay on the floor in two pieces,
broken not by ki, but obviously by Vegeta´s fist. Food, pieces of wood, glass
and china lied scattered on the floor along with people´s clothes. Like a stone
statue, Vegeta stood out in the scene, his fists still threateningly closed.
However, after seeing she was still alive, Bulma felt her fear leaving her as if
by magic. Recovering the control of her legs and throat, she stood up, her
finger pointed at him.

"This is nothing like what you´re thinking it is! I never was anywhere close to
Gero. I don´t know why my mother has invented this stupid story."
 
In spite of her confusion, Mrs. Briefs frowned.

"I didn´t invent anything, young lady. Krillin told me that you and Goku had to
stop this Doctor Gero guy," she said in a hurt tone. " You didn´t tell us to
keep it secret, so I just took it for granted that Vegeta knew that."

"Krillin was here?" Bulma chorused, her mouth opened enough to give passage for
a watermelon to enter.  Vegeta stared at her in disgust, as if she was a sort of
rotten, stinking roadkill.

"So it’s like that..." he spoke slowly, his voice low and raspy with hatred.
"I was wrong,you´re just like Kakarot and the rest of the hypocritical little
saints. Just like Gohan, when he hid my dragonball back in Namek, and then got
together with the baldy to make their wish on my back, after I helped them! You
say you´re good and love preaching moral lessons for people like me, but you
backstab just like we do! At least I don´t conceal my viciousness."  With that,
he left, under the eyes of the very astonished Briefs.

" C… can anyone please tell me what happened?" sputtered the poor doctor as he
tried to calm his cat down, even though he was trembling, too. None of the two
women paid him attention. Bulma glared at her mother, tears welling in her
eyes.

"Why did you do this to me?" she asked, her voice shivering. "He was beginning
to trust me.. now everything may be lost! WHY DO YOU ALWAYS SHOOT YOUR MOUTH OFF
WHEN YOU SHOULDN´T?!"



                          Kapitel 16: Tables Reversed
                          ---------------------------


Back once again! Thanks for the reviews!

 <CENTER><b>Tables Reversed</b></CENTER>


"Ha!Ha!Ha! Haaa!" 

A series of round marks scarred the huge stone block, the newest ones covering
the others before them. At every blow, more and more of the rock was shaken from
its foundations at the edge of the cliff. Finally it loosened and started
rolling along the border, like trying to avoid more punches, but its assaulter
followed it closely, never stopping his pummeling. The last punch exploded the
block into millions of shards, which fell like a dusty rain to the sea below.

Taking a deep breath, Krillin wiped the sweat on his forehead with a hand.
Lowering his raised arm down, he took both hands to the level of his eyes so he
could check on them. If he was a normal man, that violent exercise would have
completely crushed the delicate bones of his hands, but they had nothing but a
few scratches.

"I think I can take a break now." he muttered to the waves down the cliff.

During the last months, Krillin had slacked too much on his training. Movies and
escapades to West City just to hang around at the mall with Oolong or by
himself. After Bulma's birthday, however, Krillin realized he had to push
himself much harder, if he really wanted to be of some use at the battle against
the Androids. For that, Muten Roshi decided that they should move to a larger
place, so they were living again at the peninsula were Krillin and Goku had
trained when they were kids. Krillin was grateful to his master´s support, but
frequently he thought it would be much easier to concentrate in an unknown
place, which wouldn't bring back so many memories. It was funny, now, to
remember the way he had tried to overpass Goku at those old times. How stupid he
had been! 

The movies and books had plenty of stories about people who break their limits
just with determination and effort. However, their are barriers that even with
all the determination and effort in the universe can't break. In Krillin´s
case, his physical barriers were caused by the genetic difference between humans
and Saiyans, and, despite how much he tried to get past it, that was getting him
down. 

"I wonder why I still insist on that." he sighed "I´ll never become as strong
as Goku or Vegeta... I don´t even know if I´ll really be of some use against
those androids. Perhaps I should give up and look for some good girl to marry
and have a family."

A shadow spread over him.

"Hardly. Unless you find a girl who´ll need help to eat soup."

Krillin spun around even before the last words of the phrase were said. Although
he knew the guy and that he was more or less at his side now, Krillin couldn't
help the panicked knot developing in his stomach. Confused at this, he held his
breath in an attempt to calm himself. Only then he noticed how bizarrely the
visitor was dressed. Of course! Those clothes had brought him back to the terror
in Namek. So that was the reason why Bulma has required his battle suit? To make
new clothes for that psycho?

"Damn you, Vegeta! You almost scared me to death!"

Vegeta´s eyes scanned him from head to toe, in a slow, deliberated manner.

"You´re slacking. If I wanted to, I could have burned you into ashes a few
minutes ago." he stated.

Krillin clenched his teeth in anger, especially because he thought exactly the
same thing.

"Have you come here only to insult me?" he asked back.

Vegeta let out the breath from his lungs, as if he was reluctant to give
response.

"That information you gave to Bulma´s mother. About how she went traveling to
look for Doctor Gero and stop him. Was it true?" he asked forcefully.

That wasn't absolutely what Krillin expected. He blinked for a few instants,
initially, then...

"T-That stuff? Oh, yes...n-n-no, no! Absolutely not!" he bellowed, his hands
waving and his head shaking frantically as if that could make the Saiyan sure
that Krillin was not lying. "Look... my friends and I went to Bulma´s birthday
only to find that she wasn't there. Mrs. Briefs thought that Bulma was on a
mission and I... I just added some stuff to help. I mean, I couldn't blame Bulma
for not wanting to stay in that party with all those boring people around, you
know how her parents are about this kind of thing... " A horrible thought
flashed through the monk´s mind and his already big eyes stretched to the size
of car wheels. "D-Did... did you hurt Bulma because of that?"

Vegeta started turning toward the cliff.

"She is alive" he stated, shooting Krillin a look over his shoulder "But never
say a word of our talking to anyone, or I´ll kill you. And the two perverts
inside of the house, too." 

With that, he jumped and flew down, making a crescent over the sea and opening a
trail among the waves.

XXX

"I didn't tell you that it was a secret, yes. But this is absolutely not a
reason for you to go and gossip about every single thing I do, even with the
grocery man!" 

Stepping away further, Dr. Briefs pressed his back against the wall, almost
crushing his poor little cat in the act. He knew he shouldn't have been talked
into being his wife´s peace negotiator. It had been five days since that
horrible night when Vegeta had left Capsule Corp. Since then, Bulma refused to
talk to her mother and her mother insisted on making Bulma talk to her. Despite
all the explanations, the innocent blonde still didn't understand (or pretended
not to) her role in all that mess. Dr. Briefs had found her with a huge tray of
pastries in front of the lab door, trying to persuade the robot guard Bulma had
posted there to let her go inside. That was when he finally decided to do
something to bring peace back to his family. And now there he was, completely
regretful of that.

"I know mom didn't mean any harm when she mouthed it off, she NEVER does!" Bulma
carried on, "Just like when I was five and peed on my bed, and momma told that
to all the mothers of my class colleagues, just because she found that 'cute'!
Remember that? You had to transfer me to another school because everyone started
calling me 'Bulma Leak'!" her voice shook at the memory of that humiliation.
Touched by his daughter´s distress, the old scientist left the wall and
ventured a few steps forwards.

"I don´t know why," he said innocently. "Every child urinates in bed at least
once in a lifet..." 

"And every time Yamcha and I fought, every woman in the neighborhood came here
bringing pies and low-necked till their bellybuttons! How did they always know?
And momma had the nerve to scold me because I hadn't told her that Vegeta and I
were together! Why? Just to gossip around about her daughter´s new 'boyfriend'
so I would loose all my friends?"

"Do your friends hate Vegeta that much?"

Bulma ignored her father´s question.

"Besides her utter disrespect to my privacy, her indiscretions might put us all
in danger. Any Red Ribbon spy could get all the info he needed just by coming
here dressed as a deliver boy or something alike. If Dr. Gero discovers that
we´re preparing a welcoming party for his androids within three years, he´ll
certainly make provisions."

The old man´s naturally pale face went completely white.

"I... I hadn't thought about this. I´m going to have a good talk to your
mother. But you should have told me about the androids earlier, my dear. I could
have helped."

The change of subject seemed to soothe Bulma a little. Sitting in front of her
computer, she touched absently at the small, still sensitive cut on her neck,
caused by a small shard of china that had caught on her neck at dinner. Dr.
Briefs walked to stand behind her.

"Are you sure that those pills from future will help Goku's heart?"

"Absolutely sure, no. Goku hid the bottle before I could remember to ask him for
a sample for analysis. I've been researching about heart diseases, but I haven't
found one caused by a virus... it´ll probably appear only within three years."
she sighed.

Even for the usually absent Dr. Briefs, it was very clear that her dismay was
not caused by her unsuccessful research.

"Don´t you really want to have our people get Vegeta back? We could find him
easily with any of our satellites."

Bulma couldn't help but smiling. Her sweet, naive dad had seen what Vegeta could
do and yet he purposed to risk the lives of their poor employees!

"Thanks, but no. If Vegeta flew away, that means he doesn't want to be bothered.
If we found him that would just make him angrier. He´ll have to come back. He
has no money, no friends or allies - and, more importantly, training with the
Earth gravity is not the same thing." she paused, remaining in silence for a few
moments, as something went into her mind. Slowly, small points of light appeared
from the back of her blue eyes, her chin hardening in a resolute expression.
"Besides, I have my pride, too."

Looking over her shoulder, she cast a glance toward the contents on a metal
table behind them.

"Will you please take those pastries to our employees, dad? I'm on diet." she
added matter-of-factly.

"Ok." with a nod, the old scientist took the tray in his hands and left the
laboratory, with his cat eternally hanging upon his shoulder.

“Y' know, Scratch," he started "I wonder what was wrong with Yamcha or even
with that nice boy, Goku... Women have such a funny taste sometimes.”

"Meow?"

"I can tell that by my own experience. My wife, for example. She always liked
handsome, strapping men, and yet she chose me to marry. I never got to figure
out what did she ever see in me - especially because we started dating before I
became rich."

Bulma had the same taste as her mother for brawny, good-looking guys. However,
Yamcha and Goku had muscles, too. No, her father suspected that the reason for
Bulma choosing such a cruel, rude man among others was very different. And much,
much deeper.

Dr. Briefs´ greatest love, even stronger than his love for inventing, was the
stray animals he sheltered and took care of. Cats, dogs, even baby dinosaurs...
One of the joys of becoming so rich was to finally have space and enough money
to take care of so many pets. Many of them had been badly treated in the past,
taking months or even years to ever trust someone again. And although Bulma
occasionally made sour comments about her father´s obsession, deep down she had
that in common with him. Instead of animals, she sheltered stray people -
humans, talking animals or aliens. In part it was for this reason that the old
man always had allowed her to bring strangers to their home, because he felt
happy to see she had inherited more from him than the hair color and brains.

Deep within, animals aren't so different from people. Humans also become scarred
inwardly because of the things someone does to them. And Vegeta, whom looked
more like a wild animal than a human being at the doctor´s point of view (a
tiger or a lone wolf, for example), he was indeed a very scarred man. Maybe that
was why Bulma felt so attracted towards him, being more patient with Vegeta than
with her friends and her own parents. Her words to her mother that terrible
night had been marked in the doctor´s mind.

It was hard enough to regain the trust of a scarred animal. Of rational beings,
whom are far more complex, it would be even harder. Despite being an optimist by
nature, Dr. Briefs didn't believe much in that Bulma would win back the
Saiyan´s trust, if he really had ever trusted her.

The doctor only hoped that, by falling for such a scarred man, his cheerful
little girl wouldn't become deeply scarred, too.

XXX

It was 1:00 PM when a low buzzing sound woke Bulma out of a not so deep sleep.
Cursing, she tossed her hand and slapped down the alarm clock along with almost
everything resting on her bed table, but the annoying sound was still there,
insisting. Only when she grudgingly sat on her bed and held out her hand to
light the lamp on she realized that the buzzing came from her wrist alarm. Now
completely awaken, she turned the small thing off, jumped from her bed and
marched toward the window. Out there, a faint red light blinked through the
windows of the spaceship.

"So soon?" Bulma whispered in disbelief. 

Two days after their fight, she had turned her GR wrist alarm on. It was the
same alarm she had used months ago, in order to keep Vegeta from training
because he was still too injured. She just didn't expect that he would return so
soon.

Well, that was up to him. Perhaps a few things were actually above his treasured
pride, after all. At least she could sleep better now. Turning off the light,
Bulma climbed back to her bed and laid on her side, her face turning to the wall
as she pulled the blankets over herself. A few seconds past and her body laid on
the other side, her face turning to the window. Against her will, her eyes
opened, as if her eyelids were pulled by invisible fingers, turning
automatically at the window. 

"Stop that" Bulma mumbled to herself "If Vegeta can play hard to get, I can,
too."

XXXXX


Whirling in the air, Vegeta gave a series of kicks and punches. He had missed
the gravity chamber during those few days away from the Capsule Corp. He didn't
turn around when the smooth light of the holographic screen came to life at his
back. The woman´s self-respect had more ups and downs than an elevator.
However, instead of the screaming and whining Vegeta expected, he heard nothing
but the buzzing of the gravity machine. Funny. Even without looking, he knew
perfectly well she was there. What was happening?

Bulma had prepared a beautiful defense lecture all the way to the laboratory.
Every phrase, every word had been carefully prepared even before she turned the
communication screen on; however, now nothing of this seemed proper to say. She
sat staring at the tanned back that shone with sweat at the redness of the
chamber. Like usual, he was clad only in a pair of training shorts and the
vision of so much exposed flesh reminded her of those two crazy nights they had
spent together out in the meadow, his awkward but almost gentle touch like a
teenager´s in his first...

"What do you want?!" Vegeta bellowed suddenly as he turned around, so quickly
that Bulma couldn´t even notice the movement "Speak at once and go away. I
can´t concentrate with you staring at me!"

Bulma almost fell from her chair. That man seemed to have eyes on his back!

"You´ve really got a nerve!" she shouted back "You won't talk to me, but you
can use MY dad´s gravity room!"

"One thing has nothing to do with the other. It wasn't your 'dad' who I thought
that had betrayed me."

"Then you mean... what?!" Bulma started to say when her mind absorbed the
implications of Vegeta´s second phrase, making her gasp. Vegeta snickered
cruelly.

"What a shame. I ruined the explanation you had prepared so carefully, didn´t
I?" he sneered.

"B-But... how? I mean... how did you realize? Ah, I got it." Bulma´s face
lightened. "You realized that I never would have done that."

Vegeta couldn't decide if he should laugh at the woman´s foolishness. Sometimes
she was smart, but in other moments she said things that would make even Kakarot
fall on his back. Carefully, he chose his words, avoiding to mention his
encounter with the bald dwarf. To know the truth about that damned
misunderstanding hadn't brought him any relief. Actually, he had needed much of
his self-control to not reduce the little nosy guy to dust.

"Wrong again. It´s just that, as soon as I chilled down I realized that the
story told by your stupid mother couldn't be true." He made a pause and raised
his eyes to make sure she was paying attention. "Your mother said that Kakarot
had gone with you. I knew that was impossible, because I fought him a few hours
before we met in the party. After that, he never left his family. If he left the
Earth or fought another enemy, I would know by his ki signature."

Bulma batted her eyes. That crackpot was such a godamn Sherlock Holmes. 


"Is that all? Good." he gave a half-smirk, satisfied at her lack of reaction
"Now go and don´t come back. And don´t wait for me. This training session will
be long and tiring." giving the subject as finished, he turned around for a new
series of punches. He heard her breath becoming heavier, but that didn´t give
him any alert.

"Is that all?" Bulma repeated slowly, in that falsely calm tone that announces a
storm coming. Vegeta just gave her an irritated glare upon his shoulder.

"IS THAT ALL?" she exploded "You... deduced I didn´t do anything to Dr. Gero,
then everything is alright and you come back to train as if nothing has
happened! As if you hadn´t almost killed my parents and I, and destroyed part
of the kitchen! Look at this! A shard of glass cut my neck! I could have gained
a scar!"

"What else do you want from me? To kneel and apologize? I´m not going to do
that! It´s humiliating enough for me to know that I committed a stupid mistake
and admit that. Beside, that was all YOUR fault! Nothing of that would have
happened if you weren't such a coward to the point of lying to your bloody
parents instead of telling them to fuck themselves!"

"I was not expecting apologizes. That´s a thing any decent person would do, but
you´re not a decent person. No, I´m talking about your complete
inconsideration to me. Do you have some idea about what I´ve been through these
last days, Vegeta? I haven´t slept, I´m having to apply ice everyday to
disguise these purple circles under my eyes! Worse, I felt... terrible, because,
I... hurt you, even though that wasn't my fault. And when you finally came back,
you ran directly to this blasted gravity room! Did it cost so much for your
pride to look for me and say 'Bulma, I thought better and I believe in you when
you say you wouldn´t try to back stab me. Now leave me alone, I´m late for
training.' she said, mocking Vegeta´s dry tone.

"Of course it costs. Isn´t that obvious?" Vegeta thought "If I didn´t need
your help so desperately, I´d never would have come back here. I thought you
understood me. Or is that another way for you rubbing, again, my debt in my
face? The truth is that my life now is not much different from the way I lived
before. Of course, I´m no longer tortured, but I still have to live in a place
I don´t belong and I´m reminded of that all the time. I thought that by making
you mine, I would make all of this mine too, but everything I did was to sink a
bit further."

As selfish and unfair as these thoughts were, they were completely according to
Vegeta´s mentality and experience of life. Although Vegeta recognized human´s
feelings, he was still unable to understand them in their totality, so he
interpreted Bulma's affection for him as a mixture of lust and sympathy. He had
gotten used to her scolding and nagging, and even to her maddening motherly fuss
whenever he got hurt; but that situation was completely new for him. Back to his
old life, the maximum that could happen to him was to be chewed out if he didn't
presented himself immediately when summoned, or if he left the Ice Planet bases
without permission. But nobody would ever be worried at his absence. All the
alive beings in the universe would be relieved if his body and soul were wiped
out from existence.

And certainly nobody ever had worried about hurting his feelings. All that
disturbed him, especially because Vegeta himself couldn´t understand what had
hurt him so much about Bulma´s supposed betrayal. Too many times he had been
back stabbed in his life and eventually got infuriated at this, but his anger
was for having been fooled. Betraying and lying were just part of his world, and
he never hesitated in using both for his profit. Like when he allied with Gohan,
Krillin and Goku back on Namek, planning to kill them when they were no longer
needed. Deep down he suspected they knew that, too. However, when Vegeta
realized that Gohan, Krillin and the Namekian brat tried to summon the dragon
and make the wishes without him, something had stirred inside of him. It was an
usual feeling, almost a physical pain, but different from any pain he had
experienced before. The feeling came even stronger when he thought that Bulma
had tried to slay Gero behind his back. It was like he had been cut inside.
Worse, she had noticed that! Bitch...You´ll see it...  Feverishly, Vegeta
searched his mind after something to hurt her as much as she had hurt him.
Unaware of the turmoil of thoughts inside his head, Bulma kept ranting and
whining on the hologram screen.

"When did you plan to tell me?" she insisted "When you´d need another invention
of mine or a warm body on your bed?"

<I>"And you don´t want to be called a slut."</> Vegeta thought, concealing his
embarrassment with a smirk. "I still don´t understand why you´re making such a
big deal about that. You should be used to being forgotten. Wasn´t that how
Yamcha and your so-called friends did to you?"

Her eyes promptly registered the impact of his cruel words over her. But
differently from what Vegeta expected, Bulma´s response came calmly and even
toned.

"Did you get used to be tortured when you worked for Freeza?"

Vegeta´s silence said everything for him. 

"Nobody becomes used to be abused, insulted or neglected,Vegeta." Bulma carried
on. "You, from all people, should know that. I thought you were different. No,
don´t cut me off. I know perfectly well how selfish, petty and cruel you are.
However... I was starting to think that somehow you valued me. But you´re just
like the others... nothing but a brute with his mind set on fighting and
fighting."

<I>"I was wrong, you´re just like Kakarot and the rest of the hypocritical
little saints.”</I> Vegeta´s voice echoed into his own ears, repeating over
and over the accusation he done to her during that cursed dinner. Without any
specific reason, he felt his stomach sink.

"I´m tired of always being second best, or even less than that." Bulma sniffed,
narrowing her eyes to keep tears from coming. "I want someone to take care of
me, someone who´ll really love me and not just looking for my services and then
pushing me aside like an old tool when they´re not necessary. Don´t worry,
I´ll no longer interrupt your precious training. And don´t you ever enter in
my room, or I'll tell Goku you raped me and he'll come after you." Raising to
her feet, she held out a shaking hand to the computer board, in a clear sign
that the discussion was over. 

Vegeta´s voice still reached her. "If you wanted to be pampered, then you
should never have became involved with fighters like us."

But the hologram screen had already been turned off. He dismissed that with a
shrug. It was just another silly fight. In a few days she would be picking on
him again.

Suddenly, all the lights were turned off and the gravity went back to normal.
Caught off guard, Vegeta couldn't stop in the air and collided with the ceiling,
almost opening a hole in the ship.

<B>"@#$% *&*PIECE OF A SLUT@#$%!!!!!"</B>




Hosted by Animexx e.V. (http://www.animexx.de)