Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction / Pet Shop Of Horrors Fan Fiction ❯ Dégager: The Saiyajin Pet ❯ Resolve ( Chapter 8 )

Dégager: The Saiyajin Pet

By Orchideater

AU, Gk x Vg

Rated R for some explicit sexuality

DBZ and all DBZ characters property of Akira Toriyama and official licensees

A/N If you recall, at the end of chapter 7 Vegeta had just woken from the dream and learned that his mystery lover was Kakarot... I think it would be a natural thing for guys who'd previously considered themselves arrow-straight to freak out (or at least be a little flustered) at the first sign of real homosexual feelings, since our society is still pretty homophobic at heart. When I was brainstorming this part of the story, I often thought of the movie Gods and Monsters, where after the older man told the young gardener of his lust, the gardener felt the need to go to a bar and take a woman home to reestablish his sense of self. I wanted to do something similar to that with Vegeta.

---

Chapter 8: Resolve

For almost two hours Vegeta sat rigidly against the headboard, shell-shocked. The sun had traced its path well into the firmament before he finally stumbled out of bed on shaky legs. He made a beeline for the bathroom, then thought better of it and hurried back to yank the soiled sheets off to take them along, so the staff couldn't find out. He knew it was a mistake to sleep in the buff that night! He dragged the sheets to the sink and scrubbed furiously at the stains, then dropped the bundle to the floor and hid himself in the shower. Every nerve felt hyper-aware.

Vegeta curled up at the base of the tub, letting the hot water from the shower stream over him. Rubbing his thumbs into his eyes and over his forehead and temples in a circular motion, he attempted to massage away some of the tension in his panicked head, which still felt as though it thrummed with electricity.

Ugh, this massage didn't help nearly as well as when Kakarot- No! Don't think about that!

Vegeta clutched his hair and grimaced, his inner turmoil like bile in his throat. How could this have happened? How could he have had such dreams? In hindsight he felt like such a fool for not knowing all along that the phantom lover had been his pet. The sharp teeth, the height, the tail as the mysterious fifth limb, the attentions so similar to how Kakarot had soothed him the night before- it should have been obvious, it was so logical! But then dreams rarely abide by the convenient rules of logic.

What possessed him to dream such a thing, and not just once, but repeatedly? He was not a faggot, he was not a zoophile! Never before had he felt aroused by a man. He barely even tolerated the touch of other men, except in formal handshakes and friendly shoulder jostles. Until Kakarot. Why was he always the exception? Kakarot, whom he let caress his hair, massage his head and neck, hug him and nuzzle him daily. Now he could never regard the other in the same way again.

The dream itself did not disturb him. What he found alarming was that even now, in the cleansing light of day, the feelings it had unearthed only multiplied and grew stronger. He tried to dismiss the dream as a fluke, an aberration resulting from the period of abstinence, but after indirectly experiencing such ecstasy he found that the idea appealed to him far too much. The more he thought about the dream, the more it turned him on, despite his best efforts to denounce it as ridiculous, perverted weakness.

Just thinking about it now, and seeing in his mind's eye those intense golden eyes, those skillful hands, that teasing tail, all brought together in one unparalleled emblem of wild masculinity, made him feel... made him feel... No, no!

With a desperate snarl Vegeta leapt up and twisted the shower knob to ice cold, desperate to tame his shivering, burning body.

"Damn you, Kakarot, you're turning me into a fag! I am not a fag, I won't do it, I won't, I can't! You- I'm normal, I always have been! What the hell have you done to me?!"

Vegeta stopped short then, eyes growing wide as he formed a horrifying conjecture. What if his body and mind had not betrayed him? What if this was all Kakarot's fault? Of course, it made perfect sense. Kakarot was the one who wanted him, not vice versa. The possessive behavior, the dislike of Buruma, the petting and caressing and saying he was beautiful- it was the creature's desire he felt, not his own. He harbored no such mutual desires toward Kakarot... none at all. Kakarot had to be controlling him somehow, controlling his mind.

The thought filled him with both dread and a shaky relief. He was not a fag, but the saiyajin was trying to manipulate him. Hadn't he already shown he could command strange energies, and project his voice into the minds of others? Vegeta knew from the start that voiceless speech was dangerous. And now Kakarot had the audacity to play at some sort of mind control, entering his dreams, trying to put thoughts in his head.

Well forget it, furball, I'm onto you. I-I'm onto you...

Vegeta hurried out of the shower and toweled off nervously. What could he do?

Two versions of Kakarot appeared in his mind: one, the handsome, gentle face of the Kakarot he had known, always reaching out to him with smiles and loving acceptance, and the other, his mind's invention, a backlit, sinister version of his friend that sneered nastily and seemed almost cartoonish in his forced evil. Which was the true face? His sincerity could have been an act...

Vegeta briefly even considered returning him to the pet shop, or calling out the shopkeeper to come take him back. But if he didn't want to leave, how in the world could either of them get him out of that greenhouse? He tried to ignore the pang that shot through his heart at the thought of Kakarot no longer being down there in his little jungle, and no longer the part of his life that he had come to rely on. He had been a trusted confidante, a friend- but Vegeta was determined to stand firm.

He would not be controlled. He had already let his life slide too far downhill because of his obsession with Kakarot, like the young child who plays hooky to rush home and play with his new puppy. No more. It had gone too far. Feelings like this were utterly unacceptable. He had played long enough; now it was time to return to the real world to get his life back on track, and return to the ordered security of life before Buruma had left him.

Answers to the problem with Kakarot would have to wait.

Filled with a grim resolve, he brusquely pulled on his business suit and strode off down the hall, head held high, though filled with a peculiar paranoia that everyone in the mansion knew about the homosexual thoughts running through his head.

He could still get in almost a full day of work, and make some phone calls to the big names he had slighted. He would face his father with a haughty pride, and show him that he was made of sterner stuff.

Over the course of a week, Vegeta buried himself in his work, putting in twelve hour days. When he was not involved in business he worked on repairing social ties. His sleep was shallow and unsatisfying, afraid that if he allowed himself to let go and sleep too deeply Kakarot would ensnare him in dreams again.

When he did sleep he dreamed of the jungle, dark and wet and dense, the thick air pressing heavy on his lungs. Vines twined and swarmed, choking away all stultifying traces of modern civilization, replacing it with the sweet and simple chaos of Nature's order. Keening, primitive noises called to him from out of the dark, like the voice of an old friend, beckoning him to come and lose himself in the primeval night forever.

He was a tyrant to his staff, demanded results and new ideas from his executives, and even berated and ruthlessly fired a man who'd been pissing him off. Determined to further reinforce his power and masculinity, he went so far as to contact an agency for a high-priced call girl. He was Vegeta Oujisama- tough, powerful, and masculine- not some limp-wristed, flamboyant fag! A good roll with a beautiful woman would help him purge these unseemly feelings from his body.

The endeavor ended in disaster however, when during their activities he became annoyed that she would not use her tail to pleasure him. After realizing what he'd thought, he threw her out of his bed, told her to collect her money on the dresser and go. Vegeta glared at her retreating figure and his heart sank further as it dawned on him what type of girl he had asked for: tall, athletic build, lots of long dark hair, piercing hazel eyes. Damn it!

The office was his only respite. He was determined to sweat Kakarot out of his system, drive his mind to the point of exhaustion so that he no longer had the strength to think of anything but grey oblivion. For every time he stopped to rest, those thoughts crept in, thoughts of that tall, powerful savage whose eyes stripped his soul bare. How much he wanted to caress every part of him, and be touched in return. The only escape was constant, unending work, to keep his mind always occupied with a problem to be solved.

His redoubled efforts at work even impressed his father and earned him a few words of praise, which he scoffed at but inwardly treasured. Indeed, this was the best way. To get back to the way things were- that's what was best for him. But the absence of Kakarot in his life had undeniably left an aching void. Before, he had never known such closeness with another person, and now that he knew what he was missing the absence seemed cruelly obvious.

An entire week he diligently avoided the saiyajin, still at a loss for what to do with him or how to face him. Every evening he would toss Kakarot's food in and then take off back up the hill. Once he dared to try and get a look at the saiyajin from his old hiding place on the humidifier, but as he feared, the creature now knew to look there for him. Kakarot had been asleep at the time, and watching his peaceful features made Vegeta begin to have some doubts about his malicious intents at mind control. Kakarot seemed to feel his presence, though, and awoke. Almost immediately he spotted him and tried to approach, but Vegeta was already halfway to the house.

When the weekend came Vegeta threw a huge formal dress cocktail party, quite extravagant for one put together on such short notice. The sprawling guest list reached well over one hundred. Alcohol flowed freely, a live band played, and tables of fancy appetizers and sweets sat for the taking.

Vegeta passed gracefully through the crowds, flattering, joking, making comfortable idle talk, and all in all demonstrating the highest level of the art of schmooze. Teasing jabs about the state of his affairs or the breakup with his wife were taken with unusual good humor, and his role as flawless host charmed all those around him. With this party, he fully returned to the good graces of his colleagues and peers. Bruised egos had finally been mended and he was caught up in his business dealings.

Vegeta grinned, feeling quite pleased with himself as he sipped his third Rob Roy. Everything had improved immensely. Even the dreams and frightening sexual urges had diminished after not seeing Kakarot for so long. He spotted an old friend of the family and approached.

"Schwartzman! You made it! How are you, I haven't seen you in ages." The man turned and they exchanged a hearty handshake.

"Why Vegeta, you old bastard! God, you still look the same as ever. So what's it like to be free again? Eh? Eh? I bet those honeys are beating down your door. Man, I remember those wild days before I settled down..."

"Heh-heh, the only woman beating down your door now is your daughter, and she just wants your credit cards."

Schwartzman let out a belly laugh and clapped him on the shoulder. "Ha ha! You've got that right!"

"So where's she going to college in the fall?"

The following conversation detailed all the prestigious colleges Schwartzman's daughter had been accepted to, her GPA, her awards- basically a father's brag-fest on how beautiful and talented and wonderful his little girl was.

Vegeta had such a pleasant buzz going he didn't even mind listening. Neither did he notice the faint ripple of hushed, tittering whispers winding among the normal drone of conversation, or notice when someone behind him laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. His friend had started talking about the new car he planned to buy his daughter when the hand shook his shoulder insistently.

"Looks like somebody wants your attention, Vegeta."

"Hm? Wha...?" Vegeta turned, only half paying attention.

"OH JESUS!"

Kakarot, sick of being ignored, had decided to take his human form and come to Vegeta instead. So there he stood, in the middle of a crowded ballroom, frowning down on Vegeta with accusing eyes while lounge music crooned in the background and high society looked on in amusement.

Among the sea of tuxedos and formal gowns, Kakarot stood out like a sore thumb in the oversized grey T-shirt that he had adopted as his own, the dark boots, and the yellow gi pants that were baggier on him in his smaller form. Schwartzman took in his attire and snickered.

"Hey, take it easy Vegeta. Those drinks are supposed to make you mellow, not jumpy. Unless you owe this guy money, that is! Who's your friend? He's got quite the fashion sense."

Vegeta was struck speechless with horror and panic for a moment. Just seeing him and feeling his touch was enough for all those forbidden feelings to come swarming back, as surely as if someone had broken a hive of bees over his head.

"Um... Ah..." Vegeta struggled to compose himself. "This is my greenhouse keeper, Kakarot-"

"Kakarot? Well, nice to meet you, Kakarot! Put 'er there buddy!" he boomed, in his loud and condescending manner of overfriendliness.

Kakarot glared at Schwartzman's outstretched hand and then raised his gaze to scowl at him. "Hrrrr..."

"Wh... Did he just growl at me?"

"I-I'm sorry, he's not quite right in the head, and he has no sense of propriety," Vegeta cut in. "There, ahm, there's probably something wrong with the sprinkler system he wanted to discuss with me, it's been breaking down lately. Would you excuse me for a moment?"

Schwartzman nodded, eyes wide, as Vegeta charged away, snapping his fingers for Kakarot to follow. When they were safely out of the ballroom and at the far end of the hallway Vegeta stopped short, Kakarot almost slamming into his back.

"All right, what the hell is wrong with you, crashing my party like that?"

:: You've been ignoring me! :: Kakarot shot back just as angrily.

"I, I haven't been ignoring you, I-I've been busy!"

:: Suddenly so busy you couldn't stop to see me for even a few minutes? You've been ignoring me and avoiding me! You were never too busy before! You tried to look in on me without me knowing the other day and then ran when I saw you. Why, Vegeta? What's going on? Have I done something to offend you? ::

Oh, as if you didn't know! Vegeta glowered in silence.

"I..." Vegeta clammed up as a few latecomers to the party passed by. "Look, you have to go back to the greenhouse. We can't talk now, I'm in the middle of a damn party!"

:: Then come to visit me later! ::

"All right, all right. Give me about three more hours and I'll meet you in the greenhouse; I have to see all my guests out first. How did you even get out of there in the first place? The door was locked!"

:: I just opened it. Three hours, or I come back here. ::

"I said, all right!"

Kakarot turned and stalked off down the stairs and out the door.

Vegeta felt a wave of heat crash over him and began sweating profusely, so much that he had to loosen his tie and tight collar. The combination of the alcohol and seeing the subject of his taboo desires again was enough to make him pant.

Kakarot had broken that lock as though it wasn't even there.

Dumb, Vegeta! Dumb to think a shut door would keep him in if he didn't want to stay, he raged at himself.

What if the saiyajin did not take rejection well, and decided on an "if I can't have you, no one will" course of action? He had to find a way to keep him under control!

Three hours later on the dot, Vegeta straightened his attire and warily entered the greenhouse with a bundle of food and an additional large tupperware. Kakarot, back in his normal form, had been waiting for him on their boulder and leapt up as soon as he entered.

"Um, hi. I've got your dinner, and a bunch of the leftover appetizers from the party."

Kakarot's stern face softened at the prospect of special food. While he sauntered up Vegeta tried to focus on setting out the meal, cringing when the saiyajin walked right past the food to cuddle him instead.

"Hgh! No! D-don't touch me..." He thrashed in Kakarot's grip and was released quickly. His friend stared at him in concerned astonishment.

:: Vegeta, what is wrong with you? I don't know what to... Are you getting tired of me? Do you really not want to come see me anymore? Is that why you've been staying away? Please, tell me what's going on! ::

Vegeta stood stiffly as though preparing for battle, his face tight and his fists clenched as his mind worked furiously to determine how to breach the subject.

"Kakarot... Do... do you have any powers you haven't shown me yet, besides controlling ki the way you demonstrated and projecting your voice into people's minds?"

Kakarot's brow furrowed. This hadn't been the type of questioning he expected. :: No, I think I've shown you all the basic elements. ::

Vegeta shook his head. No. Unacceptable answer.

"I don't believe you. You ask me why I'm angry? Well, I'll tell you that I find your intrusions extremely offensive!"

:: Intrusions? ::

"How dare you trespass in my thoughts, and try to put ideas in my head! I just- I will not tolerate this sort of degradation. If you want to keep up these games I want you gone, out of here! I will not be some puppet for you to entertain yourself with. Fucking bullshit. I am just so furious with you- that you think of me so cheaply that you think you can barge into my mind and try to change me according to your whims-"

:: What? Vegeta, what are you talking about? ::

"Don't you dare deny it. You expect me to believe that when you can actually project your voice into my head that you can't also read my mind and put your thoughts and ideas in my head? Dammit, a man's mind is sacrosanct, a sacred privacy! Spying and trying to brainwash someone is the lowest, worst kind of evil, twisted-"

:: Vegeta! I've done nothing to your mind! What would make you think that? ::

"Liar! You look me in the eye and tell me you haven't been trying to control me, to change me!"

Kakarot took up his challenge and stared him down. :: I haven't! I don't have such powers, Vegeta, I doubt that anyone does. I can feel what people close to me are feeling, vaguely, but I can't see into their thoughts, or somehow enter their mind and tell them what to do. That's ludicrous! ::

Vegeta frowned, more unsure of himself now. Kakarot really didn't seem to have any idea why he was so angry, hadn't faltered or shown any sign that he was covering up secrets; but if Kakarot had not put notions in his head he would be forced to admit that his mind had concocted those dreams and feelings of its own free will. His pride would not allow him to acknowledge that he had homosexual urges, and for one not even human.

:: Vegeta, :: he tried again, :: What in the world made you think I was doing something like that?::

"You... you had to have done something to me! Before you came here I never felt things like- never thought about... about..."

:: About what? ::

Vegeta snarled in frustration and turned away from him, arms folded tightly across his chest. He might as well tell him sooner rather than later.

"I've been having certain strange dreams," he said lowly, "And just recently I've realized you're the other person in them."

:: Dreams? About me? :: An edge of excitement crept into the saiyajin's tone.

"A-heh-hem! Erm, well, just three, and ever since the last one I can't seem to stop having these crazy, ridiculous thoughts- thoughts I don't know what to do with." Vegeta felt Kakarot's looming presence at his back, knew he had come to stand directly behind him.

:: Wh-what was the last one about, Vegeta? ::

"Oh... It- we..." Vegeta felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple, and knew his face had to be bright red. "We were alone in a jungle at dawn, and we just... spent some quality time together..."

:: And I worshiped your body with my mouth and my tail... ::

Vegeta's eyes shot open. "What?!" He spun round and Kakarot instantly caught him by the shoulders, gripping him tightly, wild with glee.

:: That was my dream! We shared the same dream, Vegeta- my dreams merged with yours! Don't you see? Our bond grows stronger and stronger. We were meant to be together! ::

Kakarot bent down and crushed his lips to Vegeta's, invading his mouth with his tongue when Vegeta gasped.

Oh god...

Suddenly the saiyajin broke the kiss and drew back in alarm, as though he knew he'd committed a grievous error. Vegeta could only stand paralyzed and ashen-faced, walleyed in panic, emitting tiny high-pitched whimpers.

No. No- that kiss had been too goddamned delicious, more exciting and intoxicating than anything he'd ever felt, more addictive than cocaine...

He slapped the hands off of him, his voice little more than a whisper. "Get away, get away!"

:: V-Vegeta I'm sorry! I- I didn't mean to... I, I just lost myself for a moment, I was so happy. Please, I know I had no right to touch you-"

Vegeta turned and bolted without another word.

:: Vegeta, wait! Please don't go! I'm sorry! Vegeta!! ::

He heard Kakarot's voice fading in his head, and didn't stop until he had reached the sanctuary of his study. Still he couldn't make his heart stop hammering against his rib cage. He tried to deny, but knew what the saiyajin said was truth. The dreams had always come not long before he woke- the time when their sleep schedules overlapped.

All of his worst fears had come true. He wanted Kakarot of his own free will, and Kakarot wanted him in return, and they had already formed some sort of strange mind-link. This could not be happening, not when he had almost set things right again!

He needed his wife back. That would fix everything. With his beautiful wife by his side again these feelings would cease, and Kakarot would see that he was taken and go back to being just a loyal friend. Simple! A simple solution to a complex problem.

He needed Buruma back, now!

---

Early the next morning, Buruma found an unpleasant surprise awaiting her outside her apartment complex.

"Buruma!"

She wheeled around and gasped in surprise, only to find Vegeta, dressed in one of his most stylish suits, leaning casually against the building. He had made sure to look his most devilishly handsome, save for the circles under his eyes.

"Vegeta? How long have you been waiting there for me?"

"Hmm, since dawn. I wanted to make sure I caught you before you left for work."

"What do you want!"

He flashed her a debonair smile and presented the small but elaborate bouquet he'd been hiding behind his back. "For you."

"Oh... Vegeta... Vegeta, that's a very nice gesture but you know I can't accept that, it looks so expensive-"

"A hundred and sixty dollars, since you asked."

"Uh... yeah."

"Oh come now, take it. They'll only go in the trash otherwise."

Buruma accepted it with a sigh of defeat. "Look, Vegeta, what are you trying to do?"

"I want you to come back to me. I'd like to give you one last chance to be reasonable and say yes."

"Ahh, not this again! Vegeta, it's too early in the morning for this. How many times do I have to tell you, we are over. I was straight with you, I made myself clear!"

"Look, woman, I need you!"

"DON'T call me 'woman!' And you've always made it perfectly clear that you don't need anyone, least of all me."

"Well, I need you now, I can promise you that!"

"Will you please stop this? I have moved on, and I really wish you'd do the same. Look, you're handsome and suave and filthy rich. Scores of beautiful girls would flock to you if you'd let them, willing to put up with your crap in exchange for all the other benefits."

"Dammit, I don't want scores of girls, I fucking hate dating- I want you! I want things to go back to the way they were."

"Oh, and things before were so great between us? You just can't deal with losing at anything, Vegeta. I told you, I was sick of you treating me more like a business partner than a wife, sick of the whole lifestyle. I'm not going to break up the best relationship of my life to go back to our sham of a marriage!"

"Oh yes, with your little blue collar boy toy Yamcha. So, does he plan to pick you up tonight once he's finished his shift at the mall?"

"He is not a mall cop, he is a bailiff! A bailiff! Like in the courtroom!"

Vegeta shook his head in mock pity. "Tsk, so he couldn't be a real cop, eh?"

"Ugh, you nasty little-"

"What the hell does he make a year, $20,000? Pathetic!"

"It's a little more than that!"

"Does he take you out to dinner on food stamps and two-for-one coupons, then?"

"Salary is not everything, Vegeta! Yamcha knows how to be happy with less, and he enjoys his work, and I admire him for that."

"Spare me. You admire him for his tight ass and pretty boy looks."

"How dare you call me that shallow?! You see, you don't know me at all- you never knew me."

"So you keep saying. Listen, woman, I want to know exactly why you left, and why you think you're so much happier with him. I want specific details, not these vague reasons you keep giving me. You're not going to hurt my damn feelings, and I don't care how angry you think I'm going to get, I want some answers!"

"I don't think you're going to get angry, I know you will, and I also know you couldn't handle something like that. Please, will you just accept the way things are and give me the divorce? I'm so tired of going round and round like this."

"Maybe I will... if you tell me your damn reasons!"

Buruma fixed him with an even gaze, silent for a moment. "If that's what you want, Vegeta, then all right. The reason I left... is the same reason Yamcha would never have given me a bouquet like this."

"What?"

"He would never give me a bouquet like this because he knows I hate white lilies- they remind me of my grandmother's funeral. He knows me, Vegeta, knows me more in three months than you did in nine years. All the time we spent as a couple, and you still couldn't remember the lilies."

"Oh, of all the trivial-"

"It's not trivial! It's at the core of what I'm trying to tell you, though I don't know if you could ever understand. I wanted a more simple life, wanted someone who loved me and treasured me, not just needed me like a person needs a fridge or an oven in their home.

"You were always so cold, Vegeta! You never once opened up to me and let me inside so I could see the real you, see a real person. God, what I wouldn't have given for you to just come up to me and lean against me, lay your head on my shoulder and say something tender. It wouldn't even have had to be 'I love you'- an 'I'm glad you're here with me,' or a heartfelt 'I don't know what I'd do without you' would have meant so much! But no, Vegeta Oujisama was always controlled, always composed and self-contained, never showed emotion. When I was with you I felt so totally alone, like I was married to only the hard outer shell of a person."

"Oh, s-so this Yamcha comes blubbering to you about all his problems?"

"NO, but he tells me things, shares with me when he's having a bad day or when he's upset so I can put my arms around him and try to comfort and feel like I'm making a difference!"

"You knew how I was, so why the hell did you marry me?!"

"I did love you, Vegeta. I was so smitten. You were this larger than life hotshot that blew me away with your dazzling lifestyle and high-powered job. You never took no for an answer, bowed to no man, the sea practically parted before you. You took me to fancy dinners and parties and promised me the world. I was young. I thought there could be nothing better than living extravagantly with a dashing husband. And as for your moodiness and standoffishness, I stupidly thought that I could change you. I learned the hard way that you can't change someone who doesn't want to change. I grew up, and I needed more than an image. I was starving to death for intimacy, for some warmth!"

"We were great at intimacy. You can't say I ever disappointed you in bed! Can your little boy toy match that?"

"I mean emotional intimacy! The sex was always great, Vegeta, but I always felt like you were in competition with yourself, always trying to do better than the last time, be more impressive, thinking, 'how loud can I make her scream tonight?' You'd lay there next to me and go to sleep after we'd finished, and I'd lay there trying not to cry because I felt like I'd just had sex with a stranger. Just sex is not enough for a relationship to work!"

"You spoiled brat. I gave you everything, and you never appreciated any of it."

"You gave me nothing. You never loved me, Vegeta!"

"I-I did love you!"

"No, Vegeta, you love your fancy things and your money and power and your family name, and buying art pieces that sit out for a few months and then go into storage, and you love feeling like you're better than everyone else. I hated going out with your phoney, social climbing friends, and going to stiff parties with your people from work where I constantly had to watch what I said and did. I always felt like they were judging me, and then you would jump down my throat if I did the slightest thing to embarrass you."

"So I expected 110 percent from you. Is that so terrible?"

"Yes, because I was your wife, not your employee! I was fed up with it. There was no end to the ladder you climbed. You and your buddies were always striving to outdo each other in status, glutting yourselves on material extravagance. Nothing was ever enough. I want a simpler life!"

"Average, you mean, like the rest of the brainless swarming masses-"

"Ahh! You'll never understand. I wish I could make you see how wonderful it is to stop wanting and wanting and just be happy with someone you love. Last weekend Yamcha and I went to a baseball game and shared a hot dog with everything and a warm beer-"

"Ugh. He's so cheap he couldn't buy you your own?"

"I didn't want a whole meal! We shared a hot dog and a beer, and sat out in the hot sun and watched our team lose, and then we had dinner in an old family-run Italian restaurant. It was cheap and unsophisticated, and it was the best time of my life! Because I didn't have to worry, because I could be myself! And that's something you could never give me."

Buruma fell silent and Vegeta held her hard gaze, his face twisting in fury. When she dared to speak again, her voice was small and strained.

"Well, Vegeta? I gave you all my reasons, everything. Will you please give me the divorce?"

All he'd been holding in exploded outward and he grabbed her by the wrist.

"You fucking, selfish bitch! I will never give you that divorce, you'll never get it! I own the courts! I'll never let you go because you belong to me!"

"Vegeta, stop it! Let go!"

"I'm sure I could even persuade the powers that be to find some reason to fire your little Romeo, and make sure he never works in this state again. What do you think of that, darling?"

"You bastard, you wouldn't!" Her eyes widened with fear.

"Wouldn't I? I've been tolerant till now, I've played your games and put up with your girlish fantasies, but now I'm sick of all this bullshit. Time for you to come home."

He pulled her close and hissed in her ear, his voice heavy with venom. "Don't cross me. If you persist in refusing me I can make life very unpleasant for you and your sweetheart. If you really care for him, you ought to consider his safety."

Buruma's heart shuddered with apprehension. "I... I was afraid you'd do something like this. I didn't want to believe you'd stoop so low, but in the back of my mind... Please tell me you wouldn't really... wouldn't really-"

"You think I'm bluffing? Try me. Life's rewards go to those with ruthless persistence, and you should know by now that I've always been willing to do anything to get what I want."

Fast as it had come, her fear vanished, replaced by rage. She tore her arm from his grip and faced him.

"You know what? Fuck you, Vegeta! Do your worst! You're not as all-powerful as you might think you are. Yamcha carries a gun; he knows how to take care of himself. You want to hear what he said he'd do for me? He wants to marry me. He said if you started really threatening me that we'd leave town together, even leave the country if we have to! That's real love, Vegeta! He's willing to leave his job, his friends, everything he knows for me. Could you do the same? You won't win this time, Vegeta. You won't win!"

Buruma ran off, leaving Vegeta alone with his fury. Damn her, damn her, damn her! He wanted to kick something, kill something, abuse someone. She could've at least returned the bouquet, he could've given it to Ka- t-to his maids! His hardworking maids, don't they deserve flowers. Dammit! Here when he needed her most she refuses to help.

Yet Vegeta knew everything she'd said was true. He had showered her with jewels and designer clothes, but had never been able to share with her- theirs truly was a marriage of convenience. Bitter tears pricked his eyes, only to be blinked away before they could fall. So he had failed. He was a failure at marriage. What she asked for, he simply could not give. He was not made for tenderness, or for communion and sharing, and pride told him to scoff at rather than appreciate the simpler joys of life. It was his nature.

Ah, but Vegeta, Kakarot's imaginary voice sneered at him, You never had trouble sharing with me, never held back. You remember my favorite things, and with me at your side you could appreciate the simple beauty of a soaring bird, the ripples on water, the easy silence enjoyed in the presence of the one you love. My bond with you is a thousand times stronger than hers ever was! Come to me! Show me!

"Nnngghh!" Vegeta clapped his hands to his head and shook it, trying to dislodge his badgering conscience, a conscience with the voice of Kakarot.

This had to stop. He could not love a man. His life with Buruma had been nothing but work and blind ambition, but it was what he knew, what he was good at, and what fit him best. The easy path. Though cold and empty, it offered a comforting, tempting familiarity and safety.

I can offer you so much more, Friend Vegetaaahh...

No! No more. Buruma would come back to him, whether she liked it or not. She would hate him at first, but he would try to be a little more understanding of her needs, and it would pass.

Vegeta's jaw clenched as a ferocious determination swept through him, and he strode away with the resolution of a martyr. He would handle this problem like a true business shark. When someone stood in the way of your goal, there was only one solution.

Eliminate the competition.

---

In chapter 9: The perfect crime...

A/N Just two more chapters to go! That Bulma/Vegeta fight was fun. I've got nothing against the VxB pairing, I just love to watch them fight. Oh, I adopted a new pet, everyone! (Tugs on leash) Isn't his fluffy pink collar cute? I got him from the International Humane Shelter for Abused Anime Characters. His name is Pooky! Er, Yamcha.

Chibi Yamcha with wolf ears and tail (throwing tantrum on floor): I can't believe you're doing this to me! You said you were on my side, you said you'd never bash me, you said you -sob- liked me!

Orchideater: I do like you, Pooky! I'm head of the Yamcha Anti-Defamation League and the Desert Bandit Defense Council.

Y: Those aren't real!!

OE: ...They're real in my head.

Y: But you're freaking killing me!

OE: I need it for the plot, dammit. It's important. In all the spookier Pet Shop of Horrors stories there's a murder or at least a death. Look at it this way: your noble sacrifice will help Kakarot and Vegeta get together.

Y: -SOB-

(Our sneaky chibi ouji with red devil horns and tail slinks in)

OE: Oh, sweetums, don't cry! Look what mummy has for you- a liquor-filled chocolate bottle. It's German! Ooo, yum-yum.

(Takes chocolate, still teary-eyed)

Vegeta: Hey, where's mine?

OE: Only people who hafta get killed get liquor-filled candies.

V: Hmph, I didn't really want one anyway. They're bitter.

OE: Sour grapes, sour grapes.

Y (slurping): Hey, what am I in this fic again- a bailiff? Do you even know what a bailiff is?

OE: Sure, baby, I've seen every episode of 'Night Court'!

Y: Oh lord...

OE: No, seriously, I know what they do.

V (turns to Y and leers): You know, Kakarot and I have an understanding, heh-heh... (Y feels hand on his thigh) Have you ever read "Fusion" by Johnnyjosh?

Y: Uh... -sweatdrop-

OE: Forget it, horndog. You're exclusively Goku's in this fic. Go on, you need to go get ready for the next chapter. Oh, hey wait a minute! Watch this. (scratches Y behind his ear, his foot thumps on the ground)

V: Bwahahah! That's hilarious.

Y: You two quit makin' fun of me!

OE: We're laughing with you, dear heart.

(Vegeta slinks off)

OE: So, you feel better?

Y: Nnh... A little. It's just, you know, with the exploding saibamen and the broken legs and the androids putting their fists through my chest and the Cell and the Buu and the Bebi and the crazy fangirls who make me out to look like this horrible man-slut... it's just hard, you know!?

OE: It'll be okay hun. Now you go on backstage, take a rest, get into your role, and get changed for the next chapter...

Y: Ohh-kay.

OE: So I can kill you.

Y: -Waaahaaaaahh!-

;p