THE SHEEP AND THE HEDGEHOG

One very special trhanks for my beta Applescruffs, who made all the corrections. Without her, this chap would probably take another half year to come.
Enjoy! :)

PROLOGUE

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.

CHAPTER 1 - GRAVITY, SENZUS AND SOUP

One year and a half ago...

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.

CHAPTER 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, stolen by the cunning little pig, 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 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 would go nuts."
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'll 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 droids, 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.

CHAPTER 3 - 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 a 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, tears of motherly pride in her eyes "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.

Notes:
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.

CHAPTER 4 - UNCHAIN MY HEART

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. ;)
Thanks once again to Applescruffs, for betting it for me_and, mainly, for her patience.


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 scientistsat and remained a long time in deep meditation...
*****
I'm under your spell like a man on a trance
You know darn well that I don't stand a chance
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 ogling, 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 directed 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. Feisty 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 need 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."
Your friendship. Not your love.
" 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 Droids 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 still 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.
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
"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.

CHAPTER 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.

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.

TO BE CONTINUED...