Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Accidental Redemption ❯ BON VOYAGE ( Chapter 2 )

Just a reminder that this is an Alternate Universe Fic ~ that means NO Future Trunks and NO androids! Special credit goes to Meliza Mac and SSJ NaCoBe for beta-reading and thanks to everyone who took the time to review Chapter1, I really appreciate it. There's some very mild citrus in this one, but nothing serious yet… Enjoy!

_______________________________________________________________ _______

ACCIDENTAL REDEMPTION

By Evil Saint

II. BON VOYAGE

*When dreaming I'm guided through another world

Time and time again

At sunrise I fight to stay asleep

`Cause I don't want to leave the comfort of this place

`Cause there's a hunger, a longing to escape

From the life I live when I'm awake

The robust cords of his muscles bunched and relaxed in the hypnotic opus of kicks and punches, blocks and leaps he'd rehearsed uncountable times before. His every motion was graceful, poised, controlled… and undoubtedly deadly. His lack of rest was evident though, as he spun around in the nick of time to avert a high-powered ball of his own energy, fired back at him by one of his mechanical opponents. Sweat glistened on his statuesque figure, forming little rivulets on the olive skin of his bare chest to take on the appearance of blood in the red light of the GT-pod. He continued to push himself to his limits and beyond, completely unaware of his awestruck audience gazing in from the other side of the dome that had become both fortress and prison to him…

Beyond the pod the world was calm and cheery, filled with the scents and sounds of summer. A light breeze tamed the rising heat as the morning sunshine glittered appreciatively over the silky, sea-blue tendrils of a young woman, peering in through a small circular window at the tumultuous atmosphere raging inside the spacecraft. The muscles of her slender legs stretched beneath the material of her blue jeans as she stood on tiptoes to improve her view of the determined warrior, threading masterfully through the combat robots' attacks.

The girl had seen these manoeuvres on many prior occasions, but the Saiyan's physics-defying strength, speed and agility still caused her sapphire eyes to widen in amazement. His inhuman power was made all the more spectacular by his humanoid appearance. His dark, spiky hair, sharp profile with regular, humanlike features and normal ~ if somewhat brawny ~ Homo sapiens frame, made it easy to forget that he was in fact an evil alien prince who originally came to Earth to purge it of all life. In truth, the only hint to his extra terrestrial origins was a hairy brown tail, tucked securely around his sculpted waist as he blasted a custom-made training drone to scrap while avoiding its counterparts' rapid retaliation.

The battle robots' AI network was quickly coordinating their efforts and the woman looked on as the prince emerged crouching from a set of evasive gymnastics, instantly launching a thick ray of energy to thwart the united assault. Vegeta's blast collided with the five smaller beams to form a large ball of spiralling electricity, crackling in the centre of the room. The spectator backed away slightly, covering her face with her forearm to shield her eyes from the blinding light as the energy inside the pod rose to a critical level. Suddenly the air was ripped by an ear-splitting eruption as the shockwave of an earth- quaking explosion blasted the girl off her feet and sent her rocketing backwards.

The next thing she knew, she was laying on her back, pinned underneath a massive sheet of mutilated metal that blocked the sun's rays as well as the ton of debris that had landed on top of her. Confusion consumed her for several seconds before realization hit, understanding leading the way for the dreadful feeling of stone cold terror. She concentrated for a moment, abnormally attuned to the strangely soothing sound of her heart thudding against her ribcage as she wriggled each of her limbs in turn within her crypt-like confines, making sure that they were still in working order. She enjoyed a brief instant of relief, finding that she had suffered only minimal injuries, but she had no way of knowing how long her good fortune would last, listening to her shield creaking under its load while dents sagged horribly close to her abdomen and shoulder.

Dirt and blood were clogging her eyes and her skin burned from the scraping of imbedded shrapnel. Her body ached from her rough impact while the weight of the rubble steadily closed in on her from all sides, like a gauntlet of twisted titanium. Her fear was quickly escalating into full-blown panic and in her desperation she began to claw frantically at the bending shell as it threatened to become a tomb. She filled her lungs, attempting to call out, but her cry cracked into hacking coughs as she choked on the clouds of dust swirling around her head.

Would anyone even hear her scream?

She had no idea where Vegeta was or if there was anything left of him at all. If the Saiyan was dead, or more likely unconscious ~ as he'd been the last time he obliterated the pod ~ no one would find her; not until it was too late…

"Please Kami, don't let me die… not now… not like this." She prayed, the tears of despair running in small furrows through the accumulated filth on her porcelain features as the darkness closed in to bury her ~ when a miracle happened…

Though the blackness remained, the pressure melted away as if by magic, leaving her with a sensation of weightlessness akin to floating through a starless night sky. For a second time relief washed over her and her tears of hopelessness transformed to those of gratitude to the old guardian for answering her plight. She tried to take a relieved breath of sweet fresh air, but instead her nostrils were flooded with thick, earthy liquid!

She jerked in shock as she realized that she was no longer trapped beneath the wreckage of a ruined spaceship, but completely submerged in very deep, murky water. She didn't know which way was up or down and her lungs felt like they were about to burst as she floundered through the inky fluid, searching in vain for any sign that she was heading toward the surface. Her sneakers were heavy with water, drawing her down like anchors and her limbs had turned to lead ~ her nerves seemingly unwilling to relay her brain's instructions to continue swimming. She felt her body sinking, powerless to continue struggling against her watery bonds, but instead of panic or resistance, she found herself enveloped in serene resignation as she drifted down to the bottom of the great abyss…

And then she felt it: a sudden pressure had settled around her waist ~ almost expectedly ~ as two steely arms wrapped around her from behind, guiding her upward at a staggering speed. Within seconds, she and her saviour broke through the water's surface and she inhaled the delicious oxygen in deep, greedy gulps before her torso contracted in a fit of coughs, her chest burning as she dislodged the water that had found its way down her throat. When her body calmed and her breathing steadied, she was stunned to find that she was hovering high above the vast expanse of a glimmering lake, cradled protectively against a warm, hard chest. Her jeans were saturated and the fabric of her T-shirt clung to her like a second skin, causing her to shiver against the air currents as she lifted her head to see the face of her Samaritan.

By some tear in the fabric of time, the light was already making way for the advancing darkness; the sun seeking refuge behind the curve of the earth as ghostly shadows fell across the unmistakable visage that met her eyes. She looked up at him with familiar acquiescence and he smiled down at her ~ not his patented sardonic grin, but a real kind and gentle smile as he met her gaze through the burning cabochons of his eyes.

The Saiyan was no longer dressed in the specially designed, energy resistant black bike shorts and trainers he'd been wearing while she was watching him exercise in the GT-pod. In their place was the combat uniform he had on the very fist time she ever saw him. The dark-blue bodysuit, white chest plate, gloves and gold-tipped boots were exactly as she remembered; only not dirty, torn and broken as they were the last time he'd worn them. In fact, the whole outfit appeared to be brand spanking new, nicely rounding off his image as a night in shining armour.

"You saved me." She stated in breathless wonderment, taking in the sight of the magnificent man holding her in his arms. The prince said nothing, but bowed his head in a silent promise that he always would, seeking out her lips with his own to claim her mouth in a ravenous kiss. She closed her eyes in anticipation of his sweet caress when…

"Wake uuup West City!" A boisterous male voice suddenly bellowed from all sides, ripping the woman from her romantic bewitchment as her eyes flew open with a start.

"… It is now 7a.m. on this beautiful Saturday morning and this is your Greek Daddy, Schweet Papa G, coming at you from your favourite station…"

Bulma Briefs ~ brilliant engineer and heiress to the Capsule Corp. billions ~ groaned in displeasure as she reached over to her nightstand, her fingers fumbling in hot pursuit of the clock-radio's "off" button. Once the booming voice of the WCFM disk jockey was silenced, the young woman rolled over on her luxurious bed and burrowed back under the covers. She hated getting up early on weekends, especially if it meant interrupting the best part of a rather perplexing dream that had been haunting her ever since Vegeta's return to Capsule Corp.

It was always the same, frighteningly vivid scenario: she'd get caught in some kind of trouble ~ lately her subconscious seemed to favour a re-enactment of the GT-pod disaster, though the water was a constant ~ and at the last minute Vegeta would show up like the proverbial prince charming and rescue the damsel in distress. Normally, the whole "helpless female" scene would've made her gag, but disturbingly enough, she found herself secretly looking forward to her night time rendezvous with Saiyan aristocracy.

Maybe she was suffering from delayed Stockholm-syndrome…

She didn't have time to dwell on dreams however, as real life obligations beckoned her attention. She sighed and reluctantly relinquished the fading vestiges of her reverie, tossing back the blankets to face the new day. She had to hurry up and get ready to drive her parents to the airport, which was the point of Papa G's early intrusion in the first place. Dr. Briefs was off to Africa for the next three months to oversee the incorporation of the company's new diamond mining division and naturally he wouldn't dream of leaving his lovely wife behind. The thought caused Bulma to screw up her face in a pained expression as she dragged her stiff frame from the cosy comfort of her bed, the satin of her marshmallow-pink nightdress hiking up her thighs as she stretched to relieve the tension. Thinking of her parents' trip made her stomach lurch for two rather daunting reasons.

One: Amidst heavy criticism, her father had insisted that she take over his responsibilities as acting CEO during his sojourn abroad, because ~ as he'd put it ~ it would give her "invaluable experience" for when she took over from him on a permanent basis in a few years time.

Two: For the next quarter of a year, Bulma and "His Royal Highness" were going to be the only permanent residents of the huge Capsule Corp. estate.

Both prospects were simultaneously exciting and unsettling, but she found the butterflies fluttering in her stomach on account of the latter to be slightly larger than those brought on by the former. She trudged over to her vanity, relishing the feel of the thick, cream-coloured carpet beneath her feet and reached for the dressing gown that had been unceremoniously discarded over the back of the chair the previous night. As she tied the sash of the flimsy burgundy robe, she doubted whether Vegeta was even aware of her parents' trip ~ not that he'd care if he was. He'd probably be glad to be rid of Mrs. Briefs for a while though.

The Saiyan would string himself up by his own entrails before admitting as much, but he was nothing short of terrified of her mother. Whenever the obtuse blond would enter his presence, he would scuttle to the opposite corner of the room, making sure to keep at least one piece of furniture between the two of them at all times. Her mother was quite clingy when it came to opposite sex, as any misfortunate male entering her territory soon came to realise. Yamcha, Goku, Krillin, Tien, even Piccolo… all of Bulma's friends were well versed in her mother's flirtatious nature and His Majesty was certainly no exception.

After dragging a brush through her hair in a failed effort to tame the rogue curls, Bulma strolled out onto the balcony she shared with Vegeta, deciding that since she was up she might as well take a minute to enjoy the fresh coolness of the early morning air. She smiled to herself at the memory of the prince's initial arrival at Capsule Corp. when she first informed her parents that a bunch of aliens were going to be staying at the compound. Her mother seemed fascinated by the Nameks until Bulma ushered the stoical Saiyan into the room for introductions…

She would never forget the look on Vegeta's face when Mrs. Briefs pounced on him, squealing in delight. He looked positively petrified for a moment ~ like an animal caught in headlights ~ but quickly regained his composure. Bulma feared for a second that he would eviscerate the asinine woman, but the worst he did was glare at her; though if looks could kill, Dr. Briefs would've been a widower. Bulma had to admire her father for putting up with her mother's quirks for as long as he had, but she assumed that that was the kind of understanding that could only be cultivated by years of marriage.

In Vegeta's case she couldn't exactly blame her mother though; he was cute! That was her incentive for offering him a home to begin with. Of course she wasn't thinking clearly at the time ~ at least not with her brain anyway. She had just been whished back to Earth after her nerve-wracking excursion to Namek and there he was, looking utterly captivating. He was leaning against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest, a sultry smirk on his face and that brooding, I'm-better-than-you-and-you-know-it stare that she'd gotten so sickeningly used to over the past months ~ although back then she though it was rather sexy… She'd gotten her IQ from her father; she had to inherit something of her mother's!

She hadn't seen Yamcha in months, counting her voluntary sabbatical from their relationship as well as the time he'd been dead at Saiyan hands, and by then, just about every man she met seemed to be oozing sex-appeal. All she saw before her was a devilishly handsome alien prince with nowhere to go and so, conveniently forgetting that he was a genocidal psychopath of galactic proportions, she invited him to stay.

Bulma wasn't sure if she'd ever see him again after his brusque departure following their unsuccessful attempt at returning Goku to Earth, but ~ aside from her reincarnated boyfriend's objections ~ she was strangely pleased when he did come back to the compound. Not that she interacted much more with him after his return than she did when he was in space. He was surprisingly self-reliant and she and her mother saw little of him. The only person he begrudgingly communicated with was her father and that was only when he wanted his training equipment repaired or upgraded. Most of the time though, he was quiet and kept to himself, disappearing every so often for days on end to Kami-knew-where.

"What does he do when he takes off all by himself?" Bulma wondered yet again, inhaling the delicate fragrance of a summer breeze, scented with the aroma of her mother's assortment of flowers blooming in the gardens surrounding the estate.

She knew it was probably a mistake, but she'd felt a great swell of compassion for the proud Saiyan Prince ever since learning of his troubled childhood. Initially, she had no idea that Vegeta had any ties to Frieza and lived under the assumption that the two were merely rival warlords, competing for control of the Cosmos. It was only after Goku's return that she learned the truth about Vegeta's past…

"I don't have all the details, but from what I heard during the fight on Namek, Frieza was the one who destroyed Planet Vegeta. He had the Saiyans under his thumb for a long time before that, though. The way I understand it, Frieza took Vegeta away from his family when he was still a kid and forced him to fight in his army. Before he died, Vegeta said that Frieza threatened to kill his father if he didn't follow orders, so he did everything he was told, but in the end Frieza just killed `em anyway and made Vegeta live on his ship as some sicko pet-project or something."

The revelation still sent chills down her spine. She couldn't even begin to imagine what it must have been like to grow up under such hellish circumstances, but at least she finally understood why Vegeta acted so aloof and unfeeling all the time. Frieza was all kinds of evil and she didn't even want to think what sort of influence he'd have on a child's perception of the world!

Then the infamous GT-pod incident occurred and the task of nursing the overly ambitious warrior back to health had fallen to her, since he could hardly stand her mother and any other course of action would've raised too many questions to answer. Fortunately, the Saiyan's body proved to be profoundly resilient and he was bed-ridden for a meagre ten days due to injuries that would have killed another. In his weakened condition he spent a great deal of time sleeping though, and it was in that state of unconsciousness that she learned a few startling things about the resident royal.

He was constantly tormented by nightmares and the heart wrenching maelstrom of emotions that passed across his face pained her down to her very soul. There was anger, rage and hatred, but mostly there was fear and pain. He regularly mumbled words in a language she didn't understand, but from his tone and countenance it was clear that he was pleading rather desperately. She knew he was only dreaming, but the contorting of his facial features and the hopelessness of his voice were far too intense to be reactions to imaginary monsters and she couldn't help but wonder what in the Universe he could've experienced that would invoke such anguish.

She might soon find out though…

Leaning over the railing, she sighed wearily as her eyes drifted from the Capitol City towering in the distance, to the angry crimson light that danced through the portholes of the spherical structure on the grass below, causing her brow to wrinkle in a worrisome frown as she remembered the reason for its presence. There was a time ~ not so long ago ~ when such a scowl was foreign to her face, but that was before she learned of the various inimical alien races that shared the Universe with mankind. In fact, it was safe to say that nearly all her troubles were born the minute the first Saiyan scout set foot on her planet, catalyzing a chain of events that had cast a seemingly permanent shadow over her once sunny existence.

"Normalcy" had turned into a luxury for occasional enjoyment as was proven the day Frieza and King Kold perished at Goku's hands, spouting promises of revenge in the form of Koola, last overlord of the Frost Empire. No one wanted to believe that the nightmare wasn't over and Bulma was quick to arrange for the launching of several space probes, equipped with energy censors modelled after Raditz's old scouter, to call the lizards' bluff, praying that it was merely the idle ravings of dying dictators.

After only days of searching however, the long-range scanners picked up a terrible power ~ at least tenfold greater than Frieza's ~ on a direct path to Earth, confirming that the planet was indeed under threat by an entity strong enough to challenge even a Super Saiyan. Bulma's life was instantly hurled into disarray, dispelling the fragile sense of indolence the past year's peace had created as the recently resurrected Special Forces scurried to draw up defence plans and discuss battle strategies. After some negotiation it was decided that Goku and Piccolo would oversee Gohan's training in the forest near the Sons' house; Krillin would seek out Master Roshi's tutelage on Kami Island; Tien and Chao Tsu would prepare in the Northern Mountains and her beloved Yamcha would follow his own program while Vegeta agreed to use the GT-pod at CC. Everyone assumed that Nurami ~ the last surviving member of Vegeta's culled crew ~ would be training with him, but instead he gave her orders to join Gohan under Piccolo and Goku's instruction. The Namek and young hybrid seemed resistant to the idea, which seemed to have no true purpose other than placing a spy in their ranks, but trusting old Goku welcomed the alien girl with open arms before the others could raise any objections.

And so began the routine of vigilant preparation for the impending Armageddon between Earth's Special Forces and the last Ice Emperor, set to commence in an estimated twenty-nine months from the present. Bulma did what she could to assist Earth's warriors by providing them with data and equipment to hone their training, but for the most part, her time was spent trying to forget about the advancing menace and the prospect of dying young, envying the fighters' distraction of constant physical exertion.

Gone were the carefree days of her teenage years and her dreams for a rosy tomorrow. Now, speculation of the future was turbid and unpleasant, having become somewhat of a taboo subject in the Briefs household.

These thoughts pushed heavily on her heart as she abandoned the balcony and re-entered her room. She had no more time to fret. Her parents' flight was scheduled for takeoff at 8:45 a.m. and it was half an hour's drive to the Briefs family's private airport on the outskirts of West City, giving her only forty-five minutes to make herself presentable and polish off her last "Mom-made" meal for three months…

~*~*~*~

"Woman!" Vegeta yelled as he entered the house through the kitchen. He was thoroughly annoyed by this point. He'd been scanning the entire area within a hundred kilometre radius for Dr. Briefs' energy signature without success since late-morning and by mid-afternoon he could wait no longer. The lavender-haired old man had no powerlevel to speak of and he'd always been difficult to pinpoint in the sea of weaklings that populated the region, but that day he was proving more elusive than ever before. There were few things Vegeta disliked more than having to turn to the aging scientist's officious, loudmouthed offspring for assistance, but since her energy appeared to be the only one in detectable range, it seemed that he had no choice but to extract her father's whereabouts from her.

"Woman!" The Saiyan's gruff voice resounded through the mansion, bouncing off the walls and penetrating the closed door behind which Bulma was trying fruitlessly to decipher the reports for the coming financial quarter ~ accounting not being her field of expertise. She was under a lot of stress and the sound of Vegeta's insistent shouting was tugging at the frayed edges of her last nerve.

"Kami, what could he possibly want?" Bulma wondered in irritation, snapping a pencil in half as her housemate's voice rose up even more demanding than before, this time from the vicinity of the living room. She snorted in fury, knocking over her chair as she sprang to her feet and stormed to the door of her personal study. If the wood were sentient it would've been shaking in fear as she grabbed the handle, yanking it open aggressively to stick her head out into the hallway.

"What?!" She bellowed back, her decibels matching Vegeta's as the volume of her reply echoed through the hall and down the flight of stairs to reach the alien's ears.

"Get down here! I have to talk to you!"

"You didn't say please!"

"Do not try my patience, Woman!!" Bulma rolled her eyes and grunted in resignation, reasoning that the sooner she complied with his demand the sooner he'd shut up. She stalked down the hallway to the top of the stairs leading to the ground floor, defiantly refusing to descend any further.

"Well?!" She inquired from her elevated position, standing akimbo while meeting the glare of the half-naked, sweat-drenched man scowling up at her from the room below.

"At least you get some eye candy for your pains…" Bulma thought mischievously as her gaze roved over of the Saiyan's regal physique, taking in the perfectly toned muscles rippling beneath glistening, bronze skin. The man was built like an Olympian god!

"Where is your father?" The prince barked, snapping the woman out of her trance.

"On a business trip to Africa."

"Ai'et gazan!" He cursed in his home language, gnashing his teeth disconcertedly as he considered the information.

"… When will he be back?"

"In three months."

"What?!"

"You heard me."

"Why wasn't I told of this?"

"I guess nobody thought you'd care."

"This is unacceptable! He has to upgrade the damned pod's gravity simulation and repair those worthless drones; I can't put my training on hiatus for three fucking months!"

"That pod was upgraded to 350 Gs three weeks ago! There's no way you'd be able to move with any more."

"Listen Woman, I'm not interested in your irrelevant opinions of what I can and can't do! Just get the old man back here before I decide to go to… Africa and retrieve him."

"No, you listen! The Earth doesn't revolve around your sick obsession with beating Goku and my dad has other obligations besides answering to your beck and call, so just chill out! There's no need to get your spandex in a twist though, `cause I'm still here and I will fix the freaking drones and then I will see what can be done about the damned pod… later! Right now I have a business meeting to prepare for, so pipe down!" She admonished and pivoted on her heels, intent on returning to the incomprehensible stack of spreadsheets that seemed to be chipping away at the soundness of her mind, but not before punctuating her words with a final comment.

"… One more thing Vegeta…" She said, looking over her shoulder "… if you even try to harass me or my father about this, then so help me I will encapsulate that pod and you will never see it again, understood?" Vegeta opened his mouth to retort, but Bulma interrupted him before he could speak.

"… Threaten to kill me all you want, but we both know what will happen if you do, so just spare me the dramatics!" She closed her argument by turning her back on him and started moving in the direction of her study.

"Do you really think Koola will give a shit about your precious `business' when he shows up?" Vegeta smirked as he played his trump card, stopping the woman dead in her tracks.

Bulma bit down on her bottom lip, running a hand through her frizzy hair at the grim reminder of the impending Iceling threat. She sighed in defeat and turned around, slowly retracing her steps to the summit of the stairwell to face the conceited Saiyan.

"Look Vegeta…" She began her pleading explanation, looking as rundown as she felt at that moment "… I get that your training is very important and all, but I'm under a lot of pressure right now. My dad left me in charge of Capsule Corp. while he's away and I wasn't what you'd call the conventional choice, so all of our shareholders and competitors will be watching and waiting for me to screw up. Kami forbid, but if I don't finish studying those financial reports in my office, I will make a mistake and the repercussions could be disastrous. Worst case scenario: I mess up so badly that our investors loose confidence in the company, withdraw their backing and we go under."

"And this is relevant to me because…" Vegeta asked in a bored tone, quirking a brow and tilting his head in a patronising manner.

"Because if CC goes belly up, there won't be a GT-pod for you to train in or drones to blow up! Is that `relevant' enough for you, jerk?!" Bulma screamed irately, his blatant indifference to the Corporation's prosperity making her blood boil once more.

Vegeta's grin turned to a frown as he realized that he didn't have a counter for her last rebuttal, but he wasn't about to let her have the final say. He growled as his energy rose to cocoon him in a faint blue glow, the power burning through his veins. One corner of his mouth twisted in a foreboding half-smirk as he watched the woman back away, the scent of her heightening adrenalin perfuming the air. Within an instant he dematerialised at the foot of the stairs to reappear behind the frail creature, the sudden gust of wind generated by his burst of speed wreaking havoc on the surroundings as portraits went flying off the walls and furniture toppled over from the force. Bulma would've fallen as well, but before she could register what was happening he grabbed her, covering her mouth with his left hand while his right clamped over her neck like a vice. Her small hands shot up reflexively to tighten around the wrist nearest her throat, but to no effect. If he was human, she would have been convinced that he was acting under the influence an unbearable fever, but he was Saiyan, and she knew that the intense waves of heat radiating from him were merely a result of the hyper-fast metabolic rate natural to his race.

"Do not test me bitch." He warned, his voice laced with malice as he spoke close to her ear, making her shudder. The moisture on his bare torso soaked through the back of her top as his chest pressed against her like an indestructible slab of heated granite, impressing upon her just how powerless she was to stop him if he actually wanted to hurt her. He chuckled at her sharp intake of breath as he directed some energy to the hand covering her throat, allowing tiny bolts of electricity to prick her skin ~ keeping the voltage insufficient to cause damage, but high enough to get his point across. He buried his nose in her hair for a moment, savouring the smell of mounting fear seeping from her pores. It was a flavour he hadn't detected from her in some time and it gave him great satisfaction to know that he could still draw it out of her. He gave her neck a final scolding squeeze, enjoying her frightened whimper combined with the feeling of her pulse drumming harder against his palm and relinquished his hold.

Not wanting her to crack her skull falling down the stairs, he swung her around and pressed her back to the wall, steadying her against the gale before dissolving behind her and rematerialised in his original location in the living room.

"... You will repair those drones and upgrade that pod ASAP, or `investor confidence' will be the least of your worries." He hissed, his gaze drilling into her through narrowed, tantalite eyes. He leered at her quietly for a second as if daring her to oppose him. When she remained silent, he smirked in victory and swaggered hauntingly to the kitchen, not even deigning her worthy of a second glance. Bulma watched him leave in mortified fascination, her eyes glued to his tail as it skimmed the air behind him in a few rhythmic sweeps before curling snugly around his waist as he disappeared through the door. It had returned with him from Hades and her mind automatically drifted to his body's inflamed response when she caved in to curiosity one day following the GT-pod accident and risked stroking it while he was in the throes of comatose slumber ~ he'd surely kill her if he ever found out.

"Depraved asshole." She thought, giving herself a mental shake and exhaled forcefully through her nostrils, endeavouring to vanquish the warm tingling sensation, spiralling in the pit of her belly where there'd been fear less than a second ago. Gingerly, she sidled down the stairs and glanced around, assessing the damage to the living room and adjoining den before dismissing it. Nothing seemed to be broken and the servo-bots were already convening to clean up the mess.

Bulma flipped the absent Saiyan off for good measure and made her way back to the second story landing. She strolled dispassionately down the hall, heading to her room to change into her overalls. He'd succeeded in scaring her, but she didn't really take his threats to heart. Goku would rip him to bits if he ever acted on his words and Vegeta didn't seem the type to nurture a death wish. Nonetheless, she thought it wise not to stretch his restraint. She wasn't getting anywhere with the financial reports anyway and she could do with the diversion a bit of tinkering would provide.

One thing was certain though, if that little incident was to be a microcosm of the next twelve weeks… then Kami help her!

_______________________________________________________________ _______

* 'Higher' by Creed

Next Chapter: There's always room for one more Saiyan!

This update is for you Evening Lady! Thanks for the detailed review, it helped a lot. The lemon will come in due time ^_~