Chapter 15

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They had not seen each other for weeks. The awkwardness between them finally regressed to a bearable level. Now, they squared for battle. Vegeta eagerly awaited the challenge from the human. He had actually grown weary of the monotony from the gravity room.

Yamcha noticed that Vegeta wore his Saiyan uniform. The tight outfit accentuated every muscle, every bulge, every…damn that Bulma and her mouth. The human took a moment to compose his thoughts.

The two warriors charged. A flurry of blows ensued. Yamcha threw a ki-blast toward the Saiyan. Vegeta sneered and prepared himself for the weak impact. However, using his beam manipulation technique, the wiley human zig-zagged the ki-dart around his opponent. The beam zoomed toward Vegeta from behind. It may not knock the Saiyan unconscious, but a direct hit to the head would certainly sting.

Bulma heard the blasts from inside her house. Fearing that her home would become a mass of rubble, she hurried outside to shoo the combatants away from the vicinity.

Vegeta barely had time to dodge and bat the beam away. The energy bolt, gaining momentum from his defense, hurtled toward the unsuspecting female.

Boom! A small dark crater formed where she had stood. Yamcha looked about wildly and breathed a sigh of relief as he watched his friend clamber out of the bushes.

"Vegeta, you almost killed her!" screamed the human warrior.

"Killed who?" The Saiyan remained apathetic. He remembered that the human had a soft spot for squirrels and birds. The stupid vermin should know better than to scamper in the way of battling warriors.

"Bulma!"

"Bulma?" No one registered on his mind save himself and the weakling.

"Bulma, your wife!"

"Bulma? Bulma…my…wi…fe…"

Yamcha watched in fascination as Vegeta plummeted headfirst to earth. In later retellings of the story to his grandchildren, the human would swear that he saw the Prince of All Saiyans faint in mid-air.

Another boom sent Bulma toppling back into the bushes. After disentangling herself from the branches, she noticed with indignation that the two oafs had created a larger hole in her yard.

Yamcha knelt close to the edge and peered down with keen interest. The Saiyan remained sprawled at the bottom of a crater four Vegeta’s wide and five Vegeta’s deep.

Bulma stalked over toward Yamcha and prepared to give him a loud piece of her mind. What she saw made her stop in mid-finger wag. The genius knelt next to her friend.

"What happened Yamcha? Did you knock him out?" She was shocked and disappointed at the possibility.

"Er, I didn’t even touch him."

"Then what happened?" Her curiosity piqued. She’d seen Vegeta suffer worse, and by Yamcha’s calm demeanor, the situation must be minor.

"He just fell…hard."

"Yamchaaa," Bulma's voice held warning.

"I, uh, told him that you were his wife."

"YOU WHAT?"

"Hey, don’t get mad at me. I thought that he knew."

"If he didn't know, how could you?"

"Remember when he blew up the gravity machine? I saw how worried you were and your mom told me why."

Of all the people to give Vegeta the news, fate would thrust in Yamcha, her ex-boyfriend. Bulma shook her head in disbelief. Some grand being had a strange sense of humour.

Vegeta smelled dirt. Opening his eyes, he saw only darkness. His eyelids scraped the loamy granules into a pile as he blinked. Was he dead? A sense of déjà vu hit him. Vegeta gathered on all fours and shook the cobwebs from his mind. A rock, recently imbedded in his forehead, plopped to the ground. He scanned the area -- bright skies, grass, trees, two questioning sets of eyes. The Saiyan blasted into the air.

"Yes! I have been revived!" He clenched his fists in determination. "Frieza, vengeance will be mine!"

"Frieza? He must have lost his memory! My poor Vegeta!" Bulma wrung her hands in dismay.

The Saiyan prince gazed down at the two figures. So, the Earthlings were still on Namek. He recognized the blue-haired woman. But could that be Kakkarrot’s brat? The unstylish whelp still had the same bowl haircut. How long had he been dead for the half-breed to age so much? And where did he get that scar? Lifting each foot, the prince examined the soles of his boots for burs and rocks. He remembered standing on the brat's head after taking away his dragonball.

"Did he step in something? I saw him fall headfirst," said Yamcha. "Bulma, when did you get a dog?"

Bulma smacked the back of the ex-bandit's head. "This is all your fault, Yamcha! Vegeta," she called out to him tentatively, "Vegeta, are you all right?"

Satisfied that his boots were pristine, he acknowledged the Woman’s presence. He frowned at her presumptuous familiarity. But was that concern in her voice?

"Yamcha said that you hit the ground pretty hard."

Yamcha. Not Gohan. Yamcha.

The Saiyan sped toward the Earthlings. The two barely had time to run. His royal fingers wrapped around the human neck.

"Vegeta, stop it!" Bulma screamed.

The prince’s fingers tightened around the windpipe.

"Tell me, is it true that we are wed?"

"…"

He shook the body mercilessly. "Tell me now! How did this happen!"

"Yes, yes, it’s true, Vegeta. I didn’t know it at the time, either. We were married during that moon festival!" She clawed at his hands ineffectively. "Vegeta, let go!"

"Y-e-a-h, Ve-ge-ta," rasped the human warrior. He tried to break free from the Saiyan’s vise.

"Vegeta, let him go," Bulma said levelly.

The Saiyan prince loosened his grip slightly. Yamcha’s face turned from blue to red. He gasped for breath.

"It’s…her…fault…" Yamcha pointed an accusing finger at his ex-girlfriend. "Pun...ish...her."

Vegeta gave him another vigorous shake. "Fool, you expect me to harm my own wife?"

"WHAT?" rang a couple of human voices through the vastness of Capsule Corp.

Vegeta grimaced and made a mental note to work on impulse control.

The beauty tackled her husband, causing the prince to release his captive. Yamcha crumpled to the ground and heaved in precious breaths of air.

"You do like me! I knew it!"

The Saiyan was unsuccessful in escaping his Woman. Where did she get such strength?

"I never said that."

"I know, Dear. You don’t have to. I can see it in your eyes." Bulma giggled like a schoolgirl. No amount of bleach could wipe off her grin.

"Your delusion warrants medication and prescription lenses." The Saiyan shoved off his bride and stalked inside the house.

Bulma skipped happily after her husband.

Yamcha rose from the ground. "Crazy little Vegeta," he muttered. He glared after the couple. "Crazier Bulma."

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