Vegeta yawned as he shuffled across the carpet, lazily kicking aside the discarded clothes from the night before. He winced as his toe came into contact with something heavy and cold tucked in the pockets of Bulma’s lab coat. He bent over and picked it up, remembering how he had interrupted her work in the lab the night before when he called her to bed. The lab coat was heavy on the left side. He shouldn’t wonder about it; she nearly always had some sort of gadget prototype hidden away in her work clothes, but this seemed different. It wasn’t angular like most of her prototypes, it looked like it was
round. He stuck his hand into the deep pocket, rooting around blindly. His skin came into contact with cold, smooth metal and he grabbed the object, pulling it out slowly and gently so as not to damage it. Sunlight glinted off of the polished surface. He peered at the machine, which had a green screen with a grid on it and a little button on the top. It looked for all the world like a pocket watch. He dropped the lab coat and turned the object over,
examining it carefully with both hands. It seemed so familiar...he frowned. He knew he had seen it before, but where? His memory raced, images flashing past his mind’s eye. Something snagged his attention. Gohan, the device had something to do with one of the times he had seen Gohan. He concentrated harder. Ah, yes. It had been on Namek, when he encountered the little warrior on his way to fetch the last dragon ball. The little boy had
claimed that it was a watch, and Vegeta had let him go, only to find his last dragon ball missing. That was it! The device was a dragon ball locator! He smiled to himself. After all these years of playing the uneasy ally to all the earth’s fools, he could finally gather the dragon balls and get his wish of immortality. He could fulfill his dream of conquering the universe at last, and his son could grow up proud that his father was the king of the universe. He remembered what Bulma had said once, when he had told her love was for weaklings. “Do you think, then, that since you are so much stronger than the rest of us that you don’t have to work to live up to his love?” she had said, and her words had stuck with him for whatever reason. Lastly, the wish would enable him to defeat Kakarott once and for all. It would be the culmination of everything he had worked for. He stole silently over to the closet, where he placed the dragon radar in the bottom of one of his drawers. He knew Bulma wouldn’t dare to go through his scant possessions, just as he wouldn’t dare to go through hers. Unless, of course, she just happened to leave them on the floor in the middle of the room. He shut the drawer and his body reminded him that it was nature’s call that had woke him in the first place. He grimaced and completed his journey to the bathroom.
When he was finished with his shower he found Bulma awake, sitting on the edge of her bed and rubbing her eyes wearily. “Augh, my eyes hurt,” she mumbled grouchily, looking about for something to wear.
“That’s why you shouldn’t stare at a computer for so long,” he rumbled in reply. “You need to get outside more. You’re gaining all the weight that you should’ve gained with Trunks.” He tossed his towel on the bed, feeling Bulma’s eyes slide over his naked body. Smiling to himself, he began to don a pair of black cotton pants and a gray t-shirt. He caught her puzzled look. “I’ll be right back,” he said, leaving the room.
He was as good as his word, returning a few moments later. “Why aren’t you dressed for sparring?” Bulma asked as he reentered the room. “Today’s Thursday. Won’t Goku be upset?” She pulled a shirt on over her bra.
“I’m not going to spar today, woman,” he said gruffly. Her eyes widened in surprise. “I’m going to the lab with you. Kakarott will be here shortly to pick up Trunks.”
She looked at him in shock. “You’re spending the day with me? On purpose?” she marveled. “In the lab? Won’t you get bored?”
He chuckled evilly. “Despite your low opinion of my intelligence, I have a fair amount of training and knowledge in the field of electrical technology. And a while back you asked me if I knew how to build the rejuvenation tanks. I never answered you.”
“That’s no surprise,” she muttered, pulling on a sock.
He frowned at her in disgust. “Whatever,” he growled. “At any rate, I do know how, and maybe I’ll show you. If not, maybe I can be of some assistance.”
Her jaw dropped. “You want to help?” she stammered.
His frown deepened. “Does it matter? Why do you have to be so goddamned shocked?” he shouted, hands balling into fists.
Beads of sweat formed on Bulma’s brow. “Because you never do anything around here unless it directly benefits you!” she shouted back. “You’re the most selfish asshole I’ve ever met in my life. Is it so hard to believe that I’d be surprised that you’d be interested in my actual life when all you do the rest of the time is ignore me, unless, of course, you want something from me?”
“Don’t question me, woman!” he yelled.
“Okay then, I won’t,” she said matter-of-factly, looking away with half-closed eyes and raised eyebrows. She smiled as she saw the confusion she caused him spread across his face. “I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. If you actually want to get to know me as a person, I’m sure as heck not going to stop you. I’d probably not get a second chance.”
“Who said I wanted to get to know you as a person?” he barked, angry at her. “I just wanted to see your lab!”
Her eyes flashed in pain. “Well. Then I suppose it is my lab you shall see,” she murmured, voice betraying the sting of his words. “I’m sorry I thought, after all these years, you’d finally be interested in me.”
His arms fell to his sides as he watched her wriggle into her lab coat and leave the room. He slapped himself on the forehead. What in the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he be nice to her for more than five minutes at a time? Maybe if she wasn’t so damn difficult...he sighed. He had to realize that the problem wasn’t completely her, it was probably partially him. He was a warrior, born and bred, and that didn’t leave much room or time for either having feelings or understanding them. He still didn’t know for sure how he felt about her, other than he liked having her warm body at his disposal, and knew she didn’t mind having his body at her disposal either.
He walked down into the living room just in time to see Goku take Trunks. “Hiya, Vegeta!” the big man hailed, raising an arm. “Hiya, Vegeta-san!” Goten mimicked, head poking out from in between Goku’s legs. Vegeta sent the two of them an icy stare.
“Since we’re not going to spar today I thought I’d take the kids on a picnic,” Goku said.
Trunks jumped up in the air. “Hooray!” the little boy cried in joy.
Bulma smiled. “Have fun, honey,” she cooed to Trunks, giving him another hug. The little boy returned the hug gleefully and ran after Goten and Goku, waving.
Bulma shut the door with a sigh. Her eyes met Vegeta’s. “You know, I think that little boy is the only piece of you that you’ve ever given me,” shesaid. Vegeta snorted in reply. She shrugged her shoulders. “Well, I guess we should get to the lab.”
After a few hours she realized that Vegeta really knew quite a bit about technology. As he helped her replace some of the wires, the machine hummed to life. He stood up and scratched his head. “That should do it until we can get the tubing for the nutrient fluid,” he said.
She looked at him in wonder. “Where did you learn how to do this stuff?” she marveled. He wasn’t near her ability, but he had more know-how than some of her technicians that had spent a good ten years in the best schools.
“Practice,” he replied. “I was around Saiyan technology, and later Freeza’s technology, almost my entire life. Despite what you think, I happen to be intelligent. I’ve picked up a few things along the way.”
“Yeah, I’d have to admit I’m sort of impressed,” she assented slowly.
“Hmph.” A mocking smile crossed his face. “You want to know something interesting?” he said, looking at her sideways. “Kakarott’s father was probably the most brilliant scientist we had at the time.”
Bulma’s mouth opened in disbelief, remembering all the stupid, clueless things Goku had said and done in his lifetime. She looked at Vegeta suspiciously, deciding that she didn’t believe him. She laughed and began to stand up.
“No, really,” he protested. “Bardock was a genius. Too bad the son didn’t inherit THAT!” he said with a laugh. Bulma joined in, agreeing wholeheartedly.
After they stopped laughing she looked at him. They had never shared such a carefree moment. He surprised her again. Was this why she stayed with him? Was this the real Vegeta? He caught her staring at him and frowned. “Lazy woman,” he said. “Get your fat ass back to work.”
She laughed, hoping he was kidding to take away the sting. “Fine, fine. But what are you going to do?” She asked as she dusted herself off. “Are you going to keep working on the rejuvenation tank?”
His eyes unfocused, looking at nothing. “No, I don’t think so. I can make some drawings later and let you finish it. I think I’ll just wander around and look at what you’ve been up to.”
She nodded and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Thank you for coming with me. Even if you didn’t do it to be with me, I still appreciate it. Sometimes you’re not half-bad company,” she whispered. He made no reply and didn’t touch her in return. She let go a stood a few feet away from him, looking at him sadly. He folded his arms and looked away, scowling. She sighed and turned from him, walking away to her next project.
He watched her go, feeling sick. He had done it again. He just couldn’t return her feelings, no matter how hard he tried. He honestly thought it was a sign of weakness, and there was nothing he could do about it. Just another area in which Kakarott had him beaten. Vegeta scowled and went to explore the rest of the lab.
He was amazed at how much the lab contained, and it wasn’t even the big downtown experimental lab, or the refinement lab on the outskirts of town. No, this was just Bulma’s personal lab, with tons of lab assistants and funding. He could tell which machines were born of Bulma’s mind; they were the most advanced and refined. He may not be able to understand or express feelings, but he sure as hell could admire her work on a good piece of machinery. He shook his head, wondering where they kept the weapons. He knew she made them, because he was aware that Capsule Corp. distributed them to her nation and others. He figured they would have been in this lab because she wouldn’t trust anyone else with them. He walked past a long metal table and noticed a darkness out of the corner of his eye. Turning slightly to look at it more closely, he noticed it was a corridor. Maybe he had found what he was looking for.
A thick metal door at the end of the hallway stopped him. It would have been easy enough to blast through the obstruction, but then Bulma would know that he had been here. He noticed a keypad to the side of the door. He frowned as he studied it. What sort of code would Bulma pick? She probably changed it every so often, so it’d have to be something she remembered. Shrugging, he punched in Trunks’ birthday. Nothing happened. He punched in her birthday. Nothing. He tried her parents’ birthdays, what he thought might be Yamcha’s birthday, but still nothing happened. Frowning more deeply, he began to try addresses and phone numbers. He wasn’t getting anywhere. Leaning his head against the door, he wondered what else she would care about and remember. His head lifted suddenly with a strange idea. He lifted a slightly trembling finger to the keypad. He typed in her age when she saw him for the first time on Namek. Then her age when they first made love, followed by her age when she gave birth to their son. The door slid open, leaving him shaking. So that was the sort of thing that she remembered. A strange feeling settled in his chest. He ignored the feeling and the significance of the door’s code and walked into the vast room.
It was precisely what he was looking for. The room was strangely dust-free, so he didn’t have to worry about leaving footprints or leaving things looking disturbed. He figured she must have special air circulation units installed in the room. He lifted off the ground so he could inspect everything better. Just as he suspected. There were lots of guns, missiles, and smaller explosives, but large bombs also resided in the room. He spotted a few
nuclear warheads, frowning at those. Still, they didn’t have anything that would really hurt him as long as he was paying attention. He smiled in satisfaction. The humans were pretty advanced as a result of Bulma’s family, but they were still too technologically backward to produce the kind of radical weaponry it took to bring down a Saiyan. He laughed softly to himself and flew back into the hall, where he touched down by the keypad.
Looking for a button that would close the door and therefore erase any sign of his passage, he realized that she had rigged the door so that one needed a separate code to close it correctly. He knew her better than he thought, for he realized reentering the opening code closed the door, but also triggered the alarm system. He had seen the alarm on the other side of the door and made the connection. He frowned at the keypad. He would probably only have one chance to shut it before the alarm went off. If he made a mistake it would be no problem to get away, but she would almost certainly know it was
him. He closed his eyes in concentration for a moment, then punched a few numbers into the keypad.
The door slid shut and sealed itself. He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He smiled as it hit him that he had guessed correctly, but his smile quickly faded. He was more important to her than he had figured. The closing/disarming code was his age in earth years during the Namek encounter, their first sexual encounter, and the birth of their son. The uneasy feeling in his stomach returned, but he forced himself to calm down and go home.
As she exited the lab building she heard a chuckle behind her. She turned and found Vegeta leaning nonchalantly against the wall. “Need a ride home?” he asked, a none-too-pure smile creeping across his features.
“But I drove today. I have to go to the store,” she said, gesturing towards the air car in her executive parking spot. He shrugged and walked over to the car, picking it up easily with one hand. She gasped as she realized she had forgotten how strong he really was.
“Where do you want it?” he asked mischievously, tossing it casually into the air and catching it when it returned to the ground. A few technicians that were leaving the building gasped in amazement.
“I’d really rather just drive it,” she said, frowning. “What’s your game?”
He set the car down with a false pout. “Fine. A guy tries to make plans...” he trailed off, and took abruptly to the skies.
She stared off into the distance after him. “What kind of plans?” she wondered aloud, knowing she had somehow pissed him off. He had been so moody today, as if something was on his mind. Well, she was pretty pissed off at him too. She opened the door to her car, started the engine, and sped off angrily for the grocery store.
When she came through the door laden with groceries she found Trunks sitting on the couch watching T.V. “Help Mom,” she said to him over the huge bags, and he obediently went out to the car to fetch the rest. She waddled into the kitchen and began to put things away. Trunks, to her surprise, helped her. When they were finished she ran a hand through his silky hair and sighed. He smiled up at her.
“So how long have you been home?” she asked.
“Ummm, probably about an hour,” he replied, hugging her leg.
She looked down, perplexed. “Well, you’re affectionate today,” she said.
He pulled away from her and nodded. “Papa said you had a long day and to be nice to you,” he replied. “Goten said his mom really likes it when he hugs her, so I thought you probably would too. I asked Papa, and he said that he supposed it would be okay if I hugged YOU sometimes, as long as it didn’t get too mushy.”
“Your father said that?” she said in surprise, and Trunks nodded. She frowned in confusion. “So I take it you’ve talked to your father since he’s been home?”
“Yeah. He left, though, with Goku-san when I got dropped off.”
“He left you here alone?” she asked angrily. Vegeta knew he wasn’t supposed to leave Trunks alone in the house. As the youngest child and heir of Capsule Corp., there were plenty of people that would kidnap him for various reasons. “Did he say when he’d be home?” Trunks shook his head. She leaned over and tapped his rear with the palm of her hand. “Okay, go play,” she said, straightening up as he left the room.
She cooked with fury, food flying and curses leaving her mouth. She couldn’t believe Vegeta’s erratic behavior. At least when he was an asshole she knew what to expect and could defend herself, but the whole day had consisted of him being alternately kind and cruel instead of the normal casual insults and indifference. She finished cooking and called Trunks into eat. She waited all evening for Vegeta to return, but he never did. She retired the same time as Trunks, falling into an uneasy, angry sleep.
He must have returned in the night, because when she woke up he was snoring softly beside her in the bed. She reached over and punched him in the jaw. His face twitched, like he had been hit with a fly, and kept on sleeping. She was confused. He must be exhausted, because he usually slept lightly, if at all. She studied his face, not often seeing it in the peace of sleep. His scowl remained constant, but the cruel lines of his mouth were softened considerably. She was smitten for a moment with a warm wave of affection, wanting to watch him longer, but then the anger returned and she reached a hand under the covers to pinch the sensitive skin on his upper inner thigh. She gave his smooth flesh a good tweak and his eyes snapped open without him making a sound. Before she could react he had her pinned to the bed with one hand, the other in the air readying to smash her face in. She squealed in terror as recognition stole slowly into his eyes.
“You should know better than to wake a Saiyan in such a manner,” he growled, releasing her.
“I gathered that,” she rasped, massaging her throat. “But some of us have to leave for work and would like to know where you were so late last night.”
“For your information I was having a final spar, at least for while, with Kakarott.”
Bulma looked at him. He was shocking her left and right. “What?”
“Yes. I’ve decided to intensify my personal training.”
“How come? I don’t understand.” “Well, if I keep sparring with Kakarott, I’ll only get as good as he is. I need to get better, just in case it should happen someday that he can’t defend us all.”
“That sounds like unsound reasoning to me, but you always do whatever you want anyway.”
He nodded with a victorious smile and rose to put on his workout clothes.
“So what about Trunks?” she asked. “I’m pretty upset that you left him alone yesterday.”
“He can watch T.V. and play in the gravity chamber’s dressing room. There’s lots of space in there. Besides, the brat’s a Super Saiyan. No one’s going to be able to hurt him.”
Bulma scowled, thinking that she and Vegeta were sharing more and more facial expressions these days. “I’d rather you watch him anyway,” she said, violence flitting at the edges of her voice. He held up a hand to her, signaling that he was finished talking to her, and left the room.
“Bastard,” she muttered, and began to get ready for work.
So many months passed. Vegeta purposely ignored the deterioration of his relationship with Bulma, convinced she would see differently when he became lord of the universe. He was training harder than he ever had in his life, and he was feeling the improvement. The time was drawing near to fetch the dragon balls.
He left without warning one morning, forcing Bulma to drop Trunks off at ChiChi's. Bulma was annoyed when he didn’t return the next day, or the day after that. Bulma told herself she wasn’t worried, but no one had seen him. She realized, however, as the week wore on, that the house seemed awfully empty and her bed terribly large. It was like someone had scooped out a piece of her and locked it away out of her reach. She immersed herself more and more into her work.
She was going through some old gadgets when she ran across her spare dragon radar. She smiled at the old thing, wondering why it wasn’t with the other one. She reached into her desk drawer and felt around, only to find that it wasn't there. Why, she hadn’t seen the radar since the night that Vegeta had picked her up from work and she’d dropped it into the pocket of her lab coat...the blood drained out of her face. She knocked the chair that she was sitting in over as she stood up, grabbing the phone and dialing Goku’s house immediately.
“Hello,” she heard Goku’s voice say.
“Goku!” she cried. “This is Bulma. Vegeta’s got the dragon balls!”
“What?” Goku’s voice rang with alarm.
“Vegeta’s got the dragon balls, and there’s no telling what he’ll wish for!”
“How do you know? I thought he was on our side!”
“He took the radar, and it’s the only thing he could possibly be doing with it. I don’t trust him, Goku. You have to stop him!” she cried out.
“Hai,” he said. “I’ll let you know what happens. ChiChi will bring Trunks right over,” he finished, and dial tone filled her ear. She put down the phone with an icy hand.
“Don’t do anything stupid, Vegeta,” she moaned.
He lined all the dragon balls up, hands shaking with excitement. After so many years his wish would finally be granted! He didn’t need any of these puny earthlings. “Arise, Shen Long!” he called out, raising his arms to the sky. Black clouds began to gather above him and he laughed maniacally into the rising winds.
“Vegeta! Stop!” he heard a voice shout behind him. He turned around, coming face to face with Kakarott.
“Stop me if you can!” Vegeta shrieked into the gathering storm, starting to gather energy.
Goku knew right away he was going to have to go Super Saiyan, and his aura flared as his hair became golden. Vegeta laughed, doing the same. “Vegeta, we can talk about this! Please!” Goku cried out.
“Never, Kakarott! You’re finished!” Vegeta cackled, and launched a barrage of ki balls. They were small and Goku didn’t try to dodge them until one hit his shoulder, causing him to be driven into the ground. He stood up in shock, holding his bleeding shoulder. “How do you like THAT?” Vegeta yelled, still laughing.
“It can’t be!” Goku whispered to himself. “How did he get so much stronger?” He took to the air, dodging another hail of ki balls, firing a few in return. Vegeta laughed insanely as he batted Goku’s attack away.
“I’ve got you, Kakarott!” he shouted, bringing his hands together. “Final Flash!”
Goku barely had time to fire off a Kamehameha beam of his own. The two attacks met in the middle and the tug-of-war ensued. The seam began to creep towards Goku. “No!” he cried. “How can I be losing?”
“Because I’m better! Because I am your prince!” Vegeta howled, and cut off the beam just as it barreled into Goku’s body. Goku grunted with the impact, badly singed and weak. He turned around only to be blocked by Vegeta. His eyes widened in shock as Vegeta clobbered him in the nose. Goku fell to earth, followed by more ki balls, which drove him deeper and deeper into the ground. Vegeta looped high into the air and sped downward, landing on Goku’s chest with both feet. Goku screamed and coughed blood. Vegeta, still standing on his chest, spat on him. “I have beaten you,” the prince of he Saiyans intoned with a smile.
Goku, to his surprise, smiled back. “And I have failed you, my prince, by being beaten so badly.” Vegeta’s eyes widened for a moment as he looked down at the man beneath him fading into unconsciousness.
“Who summons the Eternal Dragon?” a voice boomed above them.
Vegeta took to the air, leaving Goku in the indentation he had created. “I do!” he shouted.
“What is your wish?”
Vegeta was about to open his mouth when he saw a blast of energy sailing towards him. He cursed and dodged it, but just barely. Looking ahead, he saw six figures hovering above the ground. He recognized them all.
“Stop this nonsense now, Vegeta!” Piccolo shouted.
“How annoying!” Vegeta smirked. “I hate being interrupted.” He raised his hand and a disk of energy immediately formed. He hurled it at the group with a yell. They all dodged it, but it came within a hairbreadth of Piccolo’s neck. The Namekian swore and flew straight at Vegeta, releasing energy all along the way. Vegeta smiled and flew at full speed towards Piccolo. The two met in the middle, exchanging blows with mindboggling speed.
“Do you honestly think you’ll win when not even Kakarott could beat me?” Vegeta cackled with glee.
Sweat ran down the side of Piccolo’s face. “I’ll have to knock that insanity out of you!” Piccolo howled, and connected with Vegeta’s left cheek. The Saiyan backed off, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. Then he began to laugh.
Yamcha, Tien, and Chouzu took the opportunity to attack Vegeta from behind. As they sped towards him, Vegeta lowered into a crouch, electricity crackling all around him. The three were only two or three feet away from him when he seemed to explode. The blast sent them all reeling, and they dropped like flies onto the ground, bouncing with sickening cracks. Vegeta howled, eyes alight with the pleasure of battle. Piccolo took another swing,
but Vegeta dodged it easily and planted a gloved fist into the Namekian’s stomach. Piccolo staggered backwards, grunting in pain. Vegeta didn’t let him get away. He followed his own punch and dealt the Namekian a savage uppercut. Piccolo glided to the ground unconscious.
“Gohan,” Krillin stammered, “I think we’re in trouble.”
“But look what he did to Dad!” Gohan cried.
“That’s kind of my point!” Krillin said.
“That’s right, children! Run!” Vegeta screamed, dashing towards them. The pair froze in his heated gaze, unable to move. Vegeta flew between them, sticking his arms out to the sides and clotheslining them. Krillin took the worst of it, his windpipe partially crushed. He wheezed laboriously and tried to regain his ground, but Vegeta was above him with clasped hands and dealt him a blow that sent him to the earth. As Vegeta hit Krillin, Gohan let fly a large Kamehameha at Vegeta’s back. The older Saiyan screeched as the beam scorched his back. Gohan quaked in fear as Vegeta slowly turned to face him. Vegeta’s eyes were wild and he was panting like an animal. Gohan wondered if this was what Saiyans were really like. He didn’t have time to wonder long, because he immediately had to parry Vegeta’s whirlwind punches and kicks. “You can’t hold out forever, brat,” Vegeta hissed.
“I intend to beat you before then,” Gohan shouted.
Vegeta’s face twisted into a mocking smile. “You are the only one here who even has a chance of that,” he said as he dealt a painful blow to Gohan’s ear. Gohan recoiled in pain, unconsciously clutching at his ear. Vegeta moved behind him and kicked him in the kidneys. Gohan fell forward but pulled up at the last second. He fired another blast at Vegeta, but missed by several tens of feet. Vegeta countered with his own blast. Gohan braced himself as the blue ball of light shot towards him, hitting him squarely in the chest and unfurling his arms. Gohan grunted and fell to the ground.
“What an epic day!” Vegeta howled with laughter. “You dogs! I’ve beaten all of you!” he cackled on.
“Don’t you have a wish?” the dragon boomed behind him.
“Oh yes, the wish! I had almost forgotten!” he chortled. “One moment, please, dragon, I have to savor this.” He looked down on the unconscious bodies. The only one he had actually done any serious damage to was Goku. He had made sure the others were only knocked unconscious. Any injuries they sustained would be taken care of in no time by the rejuvenation tank. He chuckled to himself. “Okay, dragon, I’m ready!” he began.
“Vegeta! Noooo!!!” he heard Goku yell.
Vegeta put his hands on his hips. “Are you still up?” he said, annoyed.
“You can’t do this, Vegeta! No good will come of it,” the other Saiyan cried, trying to lift his head. “You’re already stronger. It doesn’t matter now!”
“It matters if I want to rule the universe,” Vegeta crowed with a laugh. His laughter was cut short by the sound of an engine. He swore he thought he heard someone call his name. As he peered into the distance he saw an airbike speeding towards him. It came closer at an alarming rate. When it was nearly close enough for him to identify the rider the bike swerved, obviously out of control, pitching the rider. This time his name was unmistakable.
“Vegeta!” the rider cried and hit the dusty ground with a wet thud. Vegeta lowered his altitude a little and stared at the rider. Blue hair stuck out from underneath the cracked helmet.
“Bulma!” he yelled and descended as quickly as he could. He landed on his knees beside her. He frantically removed her helmet, yanking it off of her savagely. She was bleeding profusely from a head wound. In fact, as he looked her over he realized she was bleeding profusely in several places. He slid one arm under her neck and the other under her waist, lifting her into his lap. “Bulma?” he whispered.
She smiled at the concern in his eyes. He finally wasn’t hiding from her. “Don’t move me,” she croaked. “I think my back’s broken now.” She felt him grow completely still underneath her. “You stupid man. Why do you want the universe when you have me?” she spat in anger.
He looked at her, eyes filled with pain. “What happened?” he asked, voice frantic. “I have to get you to a hospital!”
“No, I think it’s too late. I lost too much blood, there’s no hope. I’m just glad I found you in time? now Trunks will have at least one parent,” she said, coughing blood onto his cheek.
“No, Bulma, no!” he whispered into her hair, pulling her tighter. She groaned in pain and he looked at her body again. He realized she had been shot multiple times and had lost an unbelievable amount of blood. She had come to him anyway. That was his Bulma-too stubborn to quit. “Come on, you arrogant woman, don’t you dare die on me!” he hissed.
“Vegeta,” she rasped, breath becoming shorter. “You have to find Trunks. Androids...came and took him. I tried...to stop them...but they took care of me easily,” she said with a pained laugh. Tears formed in her eyes. “Take care of him,” she murmured, pausing for breath. He wiped some of the blood off of her face. “And, just so you know, I really did love you all along.” Her eyes rolled back in her head and she went limp in his arms.
His face twisted in agony and he pressed an ear to her chest. Tears rolled down his face and he clutched her to him, saturating his clothes with her blood. “Bulma,” he shuddered, feeling the black terror of loss begin to fill his stomach. Suddenly his head shot up and he laid her gently on the ground. He took to the air in a blaze of light and hovered in front of the dragon. “Dragon!” he cried out. “Grant my wish!”
“What is your wish?” the dragon thundered.
“Make Bulma’s body as it was when I first saw her!”
Thunder rolled across the land. “Your wish is granted,” Shen Long boomed, and with a flash of light disappeared, scattering the dragon balls. Vegeta looked at the still figures on the ground below him. He sped to Bulma’s side, gathering her into his arms once again and studying her face intently. She was still covered in blood, and so he couldn’t tell if she was healed or not. He stared at her for a long moment, not daring to even breath in case
something should go wrong. Her eyelids fluttered open.
“Vegeta?” she moaned.
He let out a triumphant laugh. “There’s my stubborn wench!” he whispered, voice thick. He clutched her to him, trembling. “I thought I’d lost you.”
She hugged him with all her might. “Never.” She felt wetness on her face and touched her cheek, only to find that she wasn’t crying. She looked up into Vegeta’s black eyes and saw thin trails of tears winding their way down his face. She reached up and touched that countenance she knew so well and smiled. She had known he would never let her down. He wasn’t the same man she had met so many years ago on Namek.
“What’s this about Trunks?” he asked, face burning with the embarrassment of revealed emotion.
“Two androids took him. I did everything I could to stop them, I threw chairs, books, gadgets, even a table, but it had no effect. Instead I angered them, and they opened fire. They were Red Ribbon. I think Gero’s out for revenge, even from the grave.”
“So how did you, and they,” he said, motioning a thumb over his shoulder at the unconscious warriors, “find me?”
“I finally realized you took the radar and phoned Goku. He must have told the others. I found you by using my spare dragon radar. I had to trust that Goku would stall you long enough for me to find you.” Bulma looked at the fallen warriors. “By the way, what you did to them was absolutely horrible.”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion. Besides, they attacked me first.”
“Only because you had apparently lost your mind!”
“Shut up, woman! We have the rest of our lives to quarrel! What matters now is finding Trunks,” he shouted. “I hope that you had time to finish the rejuvenation tank,” he added.
She nodded. “Why? Are you hurt?”
“No, but Kakarott certainly is,” he replied with an evil smile. “We’ll put him in the tank. I may need him later.”
“You didn’t kill him?” she asked suspiciously.
“Of course not! If I kill him, who will challenge me?”
“What about the others?”
“Only knocked out, and if they kept themselves in shape there should be no real injury. They’ll come to eventually,” he yelled over his shoulder as he pulled Goku out of his hole. “Damn, man, when did you get so fat?” Vegeta wondered aloud as he placed Goku on his shoulders. He flew over to Bulma and hovered so low that his belly nearly touched the ground. “Hop on,” he said. “You’ll have to hold on to Kakarott for dear life, because I
have no free limbs to hold onto you with. She swallowed hard and nodded, cautiously climbing onto Vegeta’s back and wrapping her hands in Goku’s clothes. Vegeta rose quickly into the air and rocketed towards Capsule Corp.
Once Goku was safely inside the rejuvenation tank Bulma and Vegeta had a moment to think. “What I want to know is how they managed to get a hold of Trunks. He is a Super Saiyan,” Vegeta pondered.
“They knocked him out,” Bulma answered tersely. Vegeta nodded. “So how do we locate him?” she added. “I don’t have a Trunks-tracking device!”
“You probably should have made one, knowing him,” Vegeta said gruffly. “No matter. I will find him by his ki signature.”
“That could take forever. We need to act fast!”
Vegeta looked at her coldly. “He is my son. I WILL find him.”
“Don’t take off just yet,” she said, eyes narrowing at him in icy anger. “I have to make some phone calls.”
The police and government agents showed up at their house minutes later. Vegeta was a little surprised to see that some high-ranking officials had come with them. Bulma had more power than he thought. He smiled to himself. She was truly worthy of being his queen.
Bulma discussed matters with the officers and agents, leaving Vegeta to guess what they were talking about. He knew that the puny humans wouldn’t do any good against androids. Waiting until Bulma was done dispatching the earthlings, he walked over to her. “Tell Kakarott to come to me as soon as he can. I may need his teleporting skill to get Trunks out of there in a hurry,” he said, and turned to leave.
“Vegeta?” she blurted, holding out a hand. He turned slowly and looked at her, face expressionless except for his trademark scowl. She took back her hand and clasped them in front of her. “Come back safe,” she muttered. To her surprise, he smiled faintly and nodded, taking off into the sky. She watched until he was only a speck, then turned and trudged slowly back inside the house.
Vegeta circled the city again and again, searching for his son. Snarling in frustration, he dipped low towards some old warehouses near the outskirts of town, and his senses twitched a little. He hovered above the warehouses, checking each of them until he thought he felt a faint ki in one of them. He owered himself slowly, facing the huge loading door. He raised a hand and filled it with energy, launching the light towards the door. The metal groaned and exploded, and he walked through the smoke into the building.
Sounds of battle encountered his ears before he could see clearly what was going on. When the smoke cleared his stomach cringed as he saw two androids relentlessly attacking his son. Trunks had gone Super Saiyan, but was losing ground fast. He had managed to wound the androids, but they repaired themselves so quickly it hardly made a difference. Vegeta snarled and let loose two beams, knocking the androids off of his son. Trunks looked up and grinned through the blood that was running down his face. Vegeta clenched his teeth; so much blood was on the boy. “Papa!” Trunks yelled in joy.
“Trunks, get out of here now!” Vegeta shouted, releasing another attack. “Fuck, I hate androids,” he muttered, watching the machines evading his blasts. He saw Trunks running towards him, arms outspread. One of the androids raised a finger and let a beam fly at the little boy’s back. “TRUNKS!” Vegeta screamed, going Super Saiyan himself and rushing towards the boy. He placed himself between his son and the beam, raising a ki shield to protect them. Trunks turned around in horror. The beam bounced off Vegeta’s shield, but just barely. Had the beam been any stronger he wouldn’t have been able to block it. “Trunks, leave!!” Vegeta commanded.
“But, Papa, I wanna help you...” the boy protested.
“Now!” Vegeta shouted, not looking at the boy. Trunks nodded and began to head for the door, avoiding debris that began to fall from the ceiling. The two androids attacked Vegeta. He was barely strong enough to repel their attacks, and he wouldn’t hold out for long. “What is your purpose?” Vegeta yelled at the androids.
“To destroy all Saiyan life,” one of the androids said. “That child was the least guarded, so we began with him.”
Vegeta grunted as he was kicked in the side, causing him to be hurtled across the room. He landed against a steel girder, bending the metal and causing him to be knocked down from Super Saiyan. He looked up and saw the two androids shoot at Trunks. The boy screamed and crumpled into a heap.
Images flashed past Vegeta’s eyes. The day that Trunks was born, with the silly purple hair, screaming his lungs out. Trunks’ first birthday party. The time that Bulma dragged them all to the park. Tossing Trunks up and down in the air. The first time the boy had called him papa. Vegeta felt blind fury rise in him. He stood up, the world becoming drenched in a red haze. “DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH MY SON!!” Vegeta howled, and energy burst from him. His hair became long and yellow, starting to fall down his back, and his eyebrows disappeared over smoldering green eyes. With a scream he launched himself at the androids.
Goku entered the building just in time to witness Vegeta’s transformation. He gave a low whistle. “He really did train hard,” he whistled to himself. He focused and turned Super Saiyan. He circled around and attacked the androids from behind.
“Kakarott!” Vegeta cried when he saw the other man. “Get Trunks out of here!”
Goku ducked as one of the androids swung a steel girder at his head. “Just let me play a little!” he shouted, and turned Super Saiyan 3, just like Vegeta. He sunk his fist through the android he was fighting. “I need to make sure I can get away, after all!” Goku laughed and let the android drop to the floor. Vegeta sped over and vaporized the android’s head with a ki beam.
“I don’t care! Just get him out of here NOW!!” Vegeta yelled at Goku. Goku nodded and flew over to the boy. Picking Trunks up gently, he looked at Vegeta one last time.
“Be careful!” Goku cried, putting two fingers to his forehead and disappearing.
Vegeta bared his teeth at the remaining android. “Let’s dance,” he snarled.
“Bulma, he’s been gone too long. I should go back,” Goku said gravely as he watched Trunks floating in the rejuvenation tank.
Bulma glanced out the window. Night had fallen, and Trunks had been in the tank for several hours. Worry stole across her soul. “Bring him to me,” Bulma whispered. Goku nodded and left the building. She went over to the tank and pressed her hands against the glass. “Please be all right,” she whispered into the darkness.
Goku located the warehouse with no problem. It was now just a pile of rubble. He searched for Vegeta’s ki, but found nothing. Heart lurching, he landed next to the ruins, eyes scanning for signs of life. “Vegeta!” he shouted, waiting tensely for a reply. His ears filled with the sounds of the city and nothing more. “Damn,” Goku muttered, and began to toss pieces of the wreckage every which way. Sweat began to form on his brow. He had to find
Vegeta, he just had to. The prince of the Saiyan had proved himself to be a good man that day, even if he did beat the living crap out of Goku and all his friends. Goku smiled to himself. Now THAT had been a sparring session! Face becoming solemn once again he redoubled his efforts. After a while something began to flicker at the edge of his senses. He turned his head and concentrated. A grin broke over him as he recognized the ki, however faint. He tossed junk aside as he tore to the figure buried in the rubble. A white gloved hand was sticking out from the metal and crushed brick. Goku grabbed it and pulled Vegeta up. The man was beaten badly, but it looked as if he suffered more from exhaustion that from wounds. “Thank the gods I found you,” Goku breathed and put the other man on his shoulders, taking off into the night sky.
He landed softly outside of Bulma’s lab. Trunks came bounding out, good as new. “Papa!” he cried out in horror, tears coming to his eyes. Bulma appeared in the doorway. She still hadn’t changed out of her bloody clothes from earlier. Walking unsteadily across the grass she gasped as she saw her husband in Goku’s arms. She reached out and put a hand on Vegeta’s cheek. His skin was far too cool compared the body heat he usually put out.
Tears rolled down her face. “We’d better get him in the tank now,” she said quietly. Goku nodded and followed her inside the lab. The two friends sat at a table in front of the tank, Trunks in his mother’s lap. “How are the other guys?” Bulma asked wearily, stealing glances every so often at Vegeta floating in the blue fluid. She wondered how many times in his life he had ended up in such a tank.
“I think they’re fine,” Goku said slowly. “Vegeta’s changed. He really held back against them. I think they’ll be okay in no time.”
“Thank you for helping him after he beat up you and all your friends,” Bulma said with a weak smile.
“Heck, no problem! It was good for me to get my head smashed in. Now I know how strong he really is. I think I could probably still beat him, but when he attacked me earlier his fighting style had changed. He’s lost the frantic arrogance and now only fights with confidence. If he had done that years ago when he first came to earth instead of toying with us he would have defeated us easily,” Goku said, glancing at the tank. “I think you changed him, Bulma. He cares about you a lot, although he’ll probably never admit it.” Goku looked at Vegeta with kindness in his eyes and sighed. “It was good training for Gohan too. He shouldn’t have been so totally unprepared, especially since he saw Piccolo, Yamcha, Tien, Chouzu, and Krillin go down before him! I think nothing but good came out of today,” Goku laughed. A beep came from the tank. Bulma set Trunks down on the ground and rushed over to the tank.
“Now draining fluid,” the alert voice said. Trunks and Bulma pressed their hands to the tank and held their breath. Vegeta’s eyes fluttered open. Bulma smacked the door-opening button and quivered impatiently as the hatch opened. Before Vegeta could blink she had crawled into the tank with him and onto his lap, ripping off the breathing mask and throwing her arms around his neck. His face reddened as she began to kiss his wet cheeks. Trunks cheered and Goku laughed. Vegeta shot Goku a dirty look.
“This is none of your business, Kakarott,” he snapped.
“You’re right, my king,” Goku replied, smiling as Vegeta’s eyebrows twitched faintly in surprise. “Well, you’re the strongest Saiyan, aren’t you? No one else around to be king...” Goku said. “But don’t get too comfy! I’ll be beating you again in no time!”
Vegeta smiled evilly. “Not if I have anything to say about it,” he said. He felt Bulma slide off his lap and he stood up, crawling out of the tank. Trunks immediately wrapped himself around his father’s knees. “You’re all right,” Vegeta noticed as he looked at his boy. “I would expect nothing less.” Trunks giggled up at his father and Vegeta picked him up, putting him on his shoulder. Goku smiled to see it. For the first time they actually
looked like a family.
“Get your goddamn ass out of here, Kakarott,” Vegeta snapped. “I bet your stupid son is still lying on the ground out there from earlier.”
Goku smiled with understanding, knowing that Vegeta was embarrassed to be seen being affectionate with his family in front of other warriors. “Your caring made you strong, Vegeta. That’s the power of emotion,” he said. “G’night!” he cried and took off into the air.
Vegeta felt Trunks slump on his shoulder. He reached up and took the boy into his arms. Trunks nuzzled Vegeta’s chest in his sleep and Bulma smiled at them. Vegeta turned crimson and looked back at her. “I think you need to take those ugly clothes off. I thought a face like yours couldn’t look any worse, but I’ve never seen you look so hideous,” he said. Sighing, he looked down at Trunks. “I think we need to put the snot-nosed brat to
bed.”
She smiled. She had understood the meaning of his verbal code a long time ago but she had never understood the reason until today. It was the only way he could express his feelings and save his warrior’s pride. “All right, you stupid beast,” she said. “Let’s go home.” She slid her arm through his and he began to look around to see if anyone was watching. He stopped abruptly and shrugged. He pressed her arm close to him and smiled at her. She kissed him on the cheek and the three of them went home, a real family at last.