Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Accidental Redemption ❯ BREAKING THE ICE ( Chapter 7 )

Yay for everyone who reviewed chapter6! I hope Santa brings you the presents of everyone who didn't (grins evilly). Now give a big round of applause for my fabulous beta-readers, Shen Long, Meliza Mac and Kyra Fable for spending their Christmas-shopping time correcting this chapter. You guys are awesome! Last but not least, thanks again to everyone who supported me throughout this year, be it by beta-ing or posting a review. I couldn't have got this far without you guys!

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ACCIDENTAL REDEMPTION

By Evil Saint

VII. BREAKING THE ICE

*But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
I know right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me

The warmth of the midday sun enfolded the warrior prince like gentle embrace, but the glare was less forgiving and he had to lift a hand to shade his eyes from the sharp shards of light pricking his pupils. The breeze was full of jasmine and lotus blossoms and the sound of laughter and lively music drifted from the patio to caress his ears ~ a siren's call lulling his marginal sanity and luring him to his downfall.

Before he came to this place, such scents and sounds were unknown to him; before he came here, his presence always heralded screams of terror, the stench of death and skies blackened with smoke from the burning pyres that were once mighty cities…

These were the thoughts swirling through Vegeta's mind as he furtively neared a huddle of trees skirting the pool area, leaning against a sturdy cedar to observe the festivities from afar. Looking upon the twittering Earthlings, he felt like a voyeur, vicariously drinking in their unity and joy, but ultimately unwelcome in their midst.

His attention was immediately drawn to Bulma as she tossed the shiny mass of her hair over to one side with a swing of her head, causing it to flash brightly as light reflected off the silken strands. With her front to Vegeta, she bent over to ladle some sashimi onto Yamcha's plate, unwittingly affording Master Roshi, who was sitting next to her, unrestricted access to her posterior. With a shriek the woman righted herself as the geriatric lecher's palms cupped her pert cheeks and in a fluent motion she smacked him full across the face with the soy-drenched spoon in her hand, knocking the old geezer's sunglasses askew and smearing his visage with the spicy sauce covering the utensil.

Vegeta smirked at the sight. The woman was no pushover. Not only that, she was breathtaking when riled.

Although he was standing at a distance, his keen predatory eyesight picked up the lightning in her cobalt irises; the furious flush that painted her skin; the rise and fall of her heaving bosom as she accosted the horrid old man for his audacity…

His smirk faltered as his eyes rested on her useless mate to evaluate his reaction. The man just chuckled, shaking his head, before digging into his food. If another dared to touch a Saiyan's mate in that fashion the offender would loose an arm, but the human just laughed it off as though the woman's honour was meaningless to him. Vegeta felt a snarl twist his mouth as he wrestled with the urge to march over there and pound both Roshi and Yamcha into the ground, but the sulky voice of a child distracted him from his inner struggle.

"You cheated. That wasn't fair." Kakkarot's cub complained, and Vegeta turned his head to see the half-breeds approaching from the large lawn opposite the GT-pod where they'd been sparring. They were both dressed in loose-fitting slacks with their tails tucked safely under grass stained T-shirts, but the similarities in apparel did little to vanquish the differences in their upbringing.

"There's no such thing as a fair fight, Gohan. The sooner you learn that, the longer you'll live." The female admonished coolly as they set out to join the partygoers. The boy began voicing a rebuff as they passed the tiny grove, but trailed off almost immediately; his audience lost as Nurami stopped walking and turned to Vegeta.

"… Elarim zuja Ra'an." The girl greeted her liege in their home language, bowing reverently in accordance with the long forgotten custom of the Vegetan court ~ just as her late mentor had taught her. Vegeta's half formed snarl curved into a lopsided smirk at the young fighter's recognition of his title. It was nice to get some respect for a change.

"Akri ha dai." The prince grunted, acknowledging her. At that, Nurami straightened to attention, eyes front with her left arm held rigid at her side and slammed her right fist on her chest in a traditional salute. Then she relaxed and turned to her stupefied companion, glaring expectantly at him.

"H-hello mister Vegeta, sir." The boy choked out, pressing his hands together in front of his chest and dipped his head as his mother had instructed him to do when greeting someone of importance. The girl gaped at Gohan, quirking an incredulous brow at the whole exchange before looking back to Vegeta. Evidently she thought he was going to incinerate the cub for his lack of etiquette.

"Take a hike, whelp." Vegeta growled, masking his amusement with a generous amount of malevolence in his timbre. At that, the girl grabbed the boy by the cuff of his neck and practically dragged him behind her as she made a beeline for the crowded veranda, all the while lecturing him on proper conduct when addressing Saiyan royalty.

Vegeta's gaze trailed the hybrid duo as they ventured over to the Earthlings and his eyes settled on Nurami. He watched with mild intrigue as she chose a seat next to Gohan on the Son family's side of the table, looking disturbingly comfortable with the whole setup. Her appearance had changed so dramatically over the past months that he wouldn't have recognised her if not for her energy signature. Although she was still way too skinny and pale to even begin resembling an authentic Saiyan female, she'd grown into a fine warrior and the prince had to concede that he finally understood what Raditz had seen in her six years ago…

~*~*~*~

Vegeta and his subordinates had just returned from a highly profitable pirating mission on the outskirts of the Kilanrad galaxy and were underway to enjoy eight well deserved hours of rest and relaxation on one of the leisure planets the system was renowned for.

Upon arrival, each of the three battle-kin set off to give in to their individual vices. Nappa headed for the local battle arena while Raditz went off in search of the nearest casino. Vegeta, who had woken up that morning with the beginnings his first rut in over a year, set a course for the tavern district in hopes of hunting down a willing wench to assuage his burning urges.

He could barely contain his excitement as he made his way along the city streets in search of an establishment that would suit his purpose. A consenting female would be an almost exotic change from his routine, seeing how the only obtainable women he ever came in contact with were the terrified inhabitants of the worlds he purged and of course they were never eager for his attention. None of the female warriors in Frieza's legions would so much as be seen talking to him and even the disease-ridden whores of the Li Narag were too terrified to glance in his direction; all because of the lizard and his twisted fetish…

The Frost Emperor had always been a connoisseur of the finest delicacies the Universe had to offer and he had an eye for pretty things. He liked keeping souvenirs from the races he decimated ~ especially of the more durable varieties ~ and he had a large "collection" of fine featured youngsters perpetually loitering around his palace on Dargad, ready to indulge his sinister pleasures. Most of the children were the last of their kind, descendants from their planets' noble or royal bloodlines. Even Zarbon, Frieza's second in command, had been the heir to the throne of Zunódaa before the planet was purged and it was no secret that he had been the Iceling's favourite bed warmer since boyhood.

Vegeta was twelve years old and halfway through puberty when the serpent visited the base on Calya Nine where he was stationed and had him summoned to his lair for "initiation." He suspected that the only reason he hadn't been called on sooner was because Frieza was very hard on his "toys" and the vile warlord had been biding his time, waiting patiently for the Saiyan Prince to become strong enough to survive the depravities he had in mind for him. Vegeta had been in the adder's employ for a full decade by then. He'd grown up with the whispered rumours and hushed renditions of the monster's sick pleasures as his bedtime stories and he had a pretty vivid mental picture of what the deplorable mutant intended to do to him once they were alone in his rooms.

The regal youth had been Frieza's lapdog for as long as he could remember, but he was not about to become the lizard's bitch. The beatings and harassment he'd suffered all his life were bad enough, but Vegeta doubted whether even he had the strength of mind to endure after such perverted violation. He'd rather burn in hell than tolerate the Iceling's claws against his skin and the prince made sure to tell "his master" as much before he began to power up. He knew of course, that he had no chance of defeating the Ice Lord in a fight, as Frieza so scathingly pointed out. Combat, however, was not Vegeta's aim as he let his energy burst free from his control and deliberately neglected to regulate the flow, causing it to destabilize.

Frieza stopped laughing instantaneously when his purple and black bedchamber was set ablaze and Vegeta screamed in a mixture of pain and delight at hearing the overlord's shrill cursing. The Saiyan could feel his very cells blister and boil with the heat generated from the rampant energy, burning through him like a wildfire that would incinerate his body and hopefully take a large chunk of the Emperor's precious base with him. Suicide was not an appropriate death for the last Prince of Vegeta, but it was preferable to the life of a whore in the reptile's vast harem of warriors / concubines.

Vegeta's self-sacrificial stand was not destined to reach fruition however, as a powerful dampening dart bit into his flesh, abruptly neutralizing his malignant energy in flash of blue and white light.

Frieza had stopped the handsome youth from killing himself there and then in his rooms, but the Saiyan had left no doubt in his mind that he would take his own life the first chance he got, rather than live with the shame of having his body desecrated. If the lizard wanted to use the prince as a pleasure slave he'd have to keep him shackled in energy dampeners at all times, which would render him useless as a sentinel, and that was where his true worth lay. Vegeta's squad was second only to the Ginyu Force when it came to establishing Frieza's word as law and though it galled the warlord to acknowledge it, he couldn't readily afford to lose such an effective enforcer, obliging him to send the boy to the regen-tanks without claiming his prize.

That did not mean that Vegeta's disobedience would go unpunished. The Ice Lord didn't take kindly to rejection and he announced that henceforth any female, soldier or slave, so much as suspected of copulating with the Saiyan Prince would be put to death by Frieza personally.

"If the monkey won't fuck his lord and keeper, he won't fuck at all."

Vegeta had been expecting far worse and at first he didn't think much of the supposed punishment. He'd never wanted to be near any of the filthy bitches to begin with and so Frieza was only denying him something he had no desire to possess ~ until his first Unrak Nagul hit him like a herd of stampeding Kodo beasts…

Cruel as ever, the reptile enforced the proclamation with an iron fist, turning the royal Saiyan's random fevers ~ due to his irregular exposure to a catalyzing moon ~ into near maddening instruments of torment. It got so bad that Vegeta even considered forcing himself on the ship's whores. He didn't care if they got killed, but Frieza had never stipulated what the consequences would be for the prince if he defied him on this aspect. When all was said and done Vegeta had gotten off lightly considering what the lizard had planned for him and he was privately fearful of a rematch in the Icelings chambers. Honour had always been an unaffordable luxury in Frieza's legions and at last Vegeta was driven to tarnish his further by using women during purges behind the Iceling's back, just to calm his incessant hormones. It was like a hot poker through his pride each time a woman screamed her refusal to the heavens, but neither the moon nor his flesh had any mercy for him and so he had none to spare. Thus any deviation from the norm was exceedingly precious to the virile young man, and since he had no way of knowing when Frieza would be feeling generous again, he planned to take full advantage of this little vacation…

It took him a while to track down the least sleazy inn in the city and he'd been sitting at the bar for an hour without success, sipping his second drink while drumming his fingers on the countertop in aggravation.

"Of course the fucking lizard would dump me on a reptilian homeworld…" Vegeta brooded angrily from his vantage point at the front of the room. He hadn't seen so much as one other mammal since landing on the weak excuse for a leisure planet and he was getting desperate, thinking what a marvellous joke it would be if he returned to Frieza's ship without a single conquest to his credit. In all likelihood that was precisely what the insidious Iceling was bargaining on. He growled in vexation, his eyes combing the literally scaly crowd for the umpteenth time in another fruitless search for a worthwhile candidate, when a strange hissing voice rose up from behind him.

"Hi there soldier. New in town?" Vegeta turned around and assessed the creature the voice belonged to. He had never encountered the like before, but her scent told him that she was a female of her species and at first glance she looked compatible enough to satisfy his requirements. The "girl" was gangling with lurid yellow skin and rotund black eyes. When she blinked, he saw that she had both a horizontal and vertical set of eyelids that retracted completely when open, causing her oversized orbs to protrude slightly. Vegeta arched a brow as his tantalite gaze left her face to rake over her scantily clad body, albeit there wasn't much to conceal. She was an amphibian of sorts and lacked the feminine endowments of mammalian races, but ~ if he ignored the flaring gills ~ she wasn't completely unattractive.

A final scan of the room told him he couldn't expect to find any better and so, grinding his teeth in subdued frustration, he surrendered to his limited selection.

"She's better than nothing for fuck's sake, just close your eyes and pretend she's a Saiyan."

"I just arrived…" He answered her opening question, trying hard to keep the revulsion out of his voice "…want to keep me company?" He added, forcing his grossed out grimace to curl into a suggestive smirk. The girl grinned at his response and Vegeta made a mental note to refrain from oral sex as her multiple rows of needle-like teeth gleamed in the poor lighting.

"Certainly. I just adore a man in uniform." She hissed, placing a large webbed "hand" on his shoulder and dragged her clawed digits over the chest plate of his armour as she moved around to stand in front of him. Vegeta knew the creature's interest had a lot more to do with the credit crystals strung around his wrist than his attire, but her motives were of little relevance to him.

"Mmm, endothermic…I like that." She whispered, letting her long black tongue shoot out to caress the shell of his ear from a good thirty centimetres away.

"Better than nothing…Better than nothing…Better than nothing…Shit! Why in the name of the Legendary couldn't Saiyans just be asexual?" Vegeta thought as he ran his hands across the bare planes of her back. Even through his gloves her skin felt cold and clammy, almost slimy to the touch ~ like a week old corpse. He pulled away from her probing tongue, suppressing a shudder of disgust.

"How about I buy us a round?" Vegeta offered, still smirking and praying that his voice didn't betray his distaste.

"Or I could show you my room. I promise you'll like it." She quipped, resting her elbows on the bar to lock eyes with him while grinding her pelvis against his, wringing a muffled grunt from the needy prince.

"I'm very thirsty." He answered flatly, pushing her backward with laboured gentility and crossed his legs to prohibit access to his groin, signalling to the bartender that he wanted to order.

"Suit yourself." She croaked, obviously disappointed that the warm-blooded warrior didn't share her enthusiasm to get down to business and moved away to plop down on the stool next to him.

"Bring me a two bottles of the strongest you have and get her whatever she wants." He snapped when the barkeep made his way over to them, indicating his newfound friend with a jerk of his head. The barman nodded and moved to the amphibian to take her order, giving Vegeta the opportunity to guzzle down the drink he'd been nursing for the past half-hour in one quick gulp. Even in his sorry state, it was going to take a lot of persuading to convince his body to react sensually to the salamander next to him and the sooner he got mind-numbingly drunk the better…

Some time later he awoke naked and alone in an unknown room with a pounding hangover and a sorely empty stomach, but at least the ache in his groin was bearable again. He had no recollection of how he'd gotten to the room and only vague flashes of what took place there; but he was thankful for it. He inhaled deeply with his eyes still closed against the throbbing in his skull, consoled by the knowledge that for once he would be spared the humiliation of having to soothe his frenzied instincts with an unwilling partner.

After several minutes, he gathered his strength and lackadaisically dragged himself out of the dirty bed he'd been sleeping in to scavenge for his clothes. He located his scouter beneath his elastic bodysuit near the door and dropped down on the floor, checking the time to determine how much remained of his vacation. He was stunned to find that he'd been out for a solid five hours! He had no idea what the clear fluid was that the barman had brought him after he'd hooked up with the garish whore, but evidently it was far more potent than he'd thought. Normally his Saiyan anatomy metabolised toxins too quickly for it to have any lasting influence on him, but this time he was feeling the full effects of his booze binge. And with only an hour of free time left, he'd barely have a chance to sober up before having to return to the Li Narag.

He tried to stand on wobbly legs, causing his oxygen-deprived brain to throb in protest. His vision blurred and a wave of nauseating dizziness turned his stomach upside down. He stumbled and fell to his knees. Spasms ran through his oesophagus and a rancid concoction of alcohol and digestive acid spilled from his mouth onto the floor. He continued to wretch until his throat was raw and his stomach was spent, but the spasms didn't cease until he was reduced to a shivering heap of sweaty, pale flesh on the floor.

"Well isn't this the portrait of royal dignity? Pity my father isn't here to see me now." Vegeta though in self-mockery, when a beeping noise from his scouter's communicator pierced his ears and skewered his cerebrum, making cognition of any kind impossible. He acted on compulsion alone and found the device with fumbling fingers, bringing it up to his ear and opening the channel. He didn't care who was on the other end of the line or what they had to say, he simply wanted the screeching to stop.

"Vegeta here." He rasped breathlessly, his head pounding with every syllable he spoke.

"Elarim Your Highness." Raditz' voice boomed from the earpiece and Vegeta winced in discomfort.

"What do you want?! And stop screaming!" He could practically hear his subordinate raise a quizzical brow as his leader's condition became apparent.

"Forgive me Vegeta…" Raditz spoke lowly, trying to spare his prince any unnecessary suffering "… but I have something I need you to inspect. Please meet me at the docking gate next to Midaiu Square as soon as you're able. I assure you, it is of crucial importance, Sire. I would not have bothered you otherwise. Raditz out." Vegeta should've been miffed at the man for ending the call so vaguely, but the ensuing silence was too alleviating for him to be anything but grateful. He dressed slowly, finding his gloves and leftover credit crystals amidst the rags on the bed. Mercifully the toad had the sense to take no more than the standard fee for her services. He would've had to hunt her down otherwise and that would've been exceedingly unpleasant for the both of them. When he was finally clothed he staggered down several flights of stairs before reaching the bar on the ground level, which he exited as quickly as he could to escape the blaring music only to be blinded by the glaring sunlight outside.

After careful consideration he decided not to fly to the docking gate after all and hailed a taxi instead. Paying for transport was a waste of good money in his eyes, but after blowing half his earnings on drinks and sex, a cab-ride would classify as one of his more sensible decadences of the day. When they reached the docks, he paid the man disdainfully before setting out to find Raditz and spotted him almost immediately. The tall Saiyan was hard to miss, being one of very few mammals in the throng of reptilian creatures meandering to and from the spaceport.

"Well?" Vegeta asked when reached the soldier, running a hand over his face to clear away some of the cold sweat running from his brow.

"Holy shit Vegeta, are you OK? You look like you're gonna be sick." Raditz noted, taking hold of Vegeta's elbow to support him, but the prince slapped his arm away indignantly.

"I'm fine idiot! Now what the fuck was so important that it couldn't wait `till we were back on the ship?"

"Well Vegeta it's like this…" Raditz fidgeted as if he didn't quite know what to say and his tail coiled tighter around his waist, indicating that he didn't expect Vegeta to react pleasantly to what he had to show him "... there were many wealthy Nuchraa merchants at the gambling house today and the gods of fortune smiled upon me…"

"They didn't catch you cheating then?"

Raditz shrugged in a carefree confession. If they were too stupid to see through his tricks then they deserved to be swindled as far as he was concerned. The soldier decided to present all his winnings to Vegeta, hoping to gain his favour with riches, before disclosing the real reason he'd summoned the prince. He tapped the scouter at his ear, scanning the crowd to make sure that none of Frieza's goons were around to bear witness to his wealth. If word of it got back to the Iceling then all his prizes were as good as confiscated.

"I made quite a handsome profit." Raditz said with a smirk when he was satisfied that he wouldn't be caught. Covertly, he rummaged around in a pouch strapped to his thigh and pulled out several fancy chains with roughly a thousand credits worth of crystals dangling from them. He handed the currency to Vegeta to admire, his hand delving back into the bag to bring forth numerous items of jewellery and a set of gem encrusted daggers, seemingly forged from Yanazian gold ~ a precious blue metal which had become highly sought after since the Yanazian Confederate peeved Frieza for some trivial reason, resulting in the demolition of all the inhabited planets under their rule.

Although Vegeta was impressed with Raditz' quickly accumulated capital, he failed to see why it was so urgent that he inspect it. He handed the gems back to the soldier to tuck away in his pouch, and rubbed his temples in an effort to calm the vicious throbbing between his ears.

"If you dragged me out here merely to gloat over your winnings soldier, be forewarned that I'll be inflicting a great deal of pain on you later."

"Um… well… this isn't all I've won." Raditz stuttered and turned, grabbing hold of a child standing behind him that Vegeta had dismissed as a beggar. The soldier positioned the cub between himself and his prince, protectively placing a callused hand on her shoulder.

Vegeta's eyebrows hiked up in disbelief, his headache temporarily forgotten as he tried to process what Raditz was implying. His bloodshot gaze fixed on the girl, looking her over as if she was a venomous snake obstructing his path and he grimaced as he took in her appearance. The runt was quite possibly the ugliest thing he'd ever seen: skinny and pallid with a bare head that was almost grotesquely large in relation to the bony little frame. The skin was drawn taut over her skull, making her look sick and derelict with a layer of crud covering her naked torso like a garment ~ the official colours of a Kilanrad prize fighter along with the grimy loincloth that served as a combat uniform. A strip of sunken grey skin circling the base of her throat showed that until recently she'd been wearing a slave collar and blood still leaked from four pinprick-like wounds, two on either side of her neck, where the collar's sharpened energy disrupters were lodged into her flesh. If not for her scent, barely detectable through the unwashed stench, he wouldn't have realised that the creature was indeed a female ~ though her lack of aesthetic appeal could likely be seen as an asset in the immoral world of the Slave Ways.

The only thing about her that was less than repugnant was a pair of large, oddly tinted eyes, bright with a fire and intensity that belied her withered appearance.

"A brat, Raditz?"

"She has Saiyan blood." Raditz said, pointing to the tail around her waist that Vegeta had mistaken for a makeshift belt of dirty rope.

"Does it flow from you or Nappa? Because she sure as hell isn't mine." The regal elite's piercing stare sliced through his underling and the huge Saiyan retreated a little in fear of his prince's wrath.

"N-no my Lord…" He paused, mustering the courage to state his case "… but don't you see what this means, Vegeta? Her existence is evidence that you and I and Nappa aren't the only survivors. Who knows how many made it off Vegeta before it was destroyed…"

"Does she know where her parents are?" Vegeta was in no mood for one of Raditz' long-winded sermons and he definitely didn't like where he was going with this one.

"No my Liege, she doesn't, but that's beside the point. She's a Saiyan warrior, Vegeta. She doesn't belong in some slave pit to be thrown into staged combat, merely to entertain a horde of obese alien monstrosities that would've been unfit to clean her armour had our world still existed. She belongs with her own people my Lord… She belongs with us." Vegeta pressed his palms to his eyes, his headache spiking as the impassioned conviction in the man's voice grated on his nerves.

"I have no intention of opening a day-care centre Raditz." Vegeta rebuked, though his hangover was strongly urging him to just give the man his way and get on a transport pod so he could pass out.

"Please Sire. I have seen her in combat and I can vouch for her skill. She took down a Zunodarian all by herself! She's strong for her age and a cunning fighter and I know she can hold her own on the battlefield. Just give her a chance to prove herself. That's all I ask." The man was so close to pleading it was pathetic.

"A Zunodarian eh? It was probably no more than a hatchling."

"Not exactly. The lizard was twice her size and besides, she's only a cub herself."

"And that, Raditz, is precisely why I do not want her on my team! You know as well as I do that no child `belongs' in the Iceling's purging squads. Just take her back to her master and beat some credits out of him in her place." Vegeta concluded evenly and ~ certain that the discussion was over ~ turned his back on his subject and began walking to the departure point of the pods carrying soldiers back to Frieza's ship.

"If you will not have her as a soldier, then I claim her as my protected!" Vegeta froze in mid stride, rounding slowly on his subordinate.

"You wish to adopt this foul thing?"

"It is my right. Under the law…"

"I know the law, third-class!" Vegeta roared in anger at Raditz' stubborn insubordination, startling both the soldier and the kid. He immediately regretted the volume of his outburst though, as he swayed slightly under the painful pounding it caused in his skull.

"…`The law' as I recall…" Vegeta carried on when the three Raditzes before him merged back into one "…also requires that half-breeds must be put down upon discovery and any man with eyes can see she is no pureblood." Raditz blanched visibly at these words, but his jaw remained set and his resolve did not waver.

"I know that. But under the circumstances I think some leeway is in order ~ that is if we want our people to remain more than references in historic archives." He bit out with slightly forced respect, fear being the only thing keeping a rein on his steadily rising temper. Why the hell did the royal brat insist on being difficult about this? Didn't he care at all what became of his people?

Vegeta felt his stomach churn warningly as another bout of light-headedness assailed him. Raditz was clearly prepared to drag this out until his commander and chief pummelled some sense into him or until he got what he wanted and Vegeta wasn't in any fit state to argue much longer, let alone hand out a beating…

"Fuck, Raditz! ... Fine! You can have her, but she is your responsibility. If I have to take so much as one lashing on her account I'll kill the brat and take it out of your hide, is that clear?"

"Yes, Your Highness. Thank you, Your Highness. You will not regret this." Raditz said with a bow and Vegeta watched in disgust as he knelt before the girl, sinking his canines into the filthy skin at the crook of her neck to formally mark her as a member of his family…

~*~*~*~

Vegeta was roused from his pensive thoughts by an unfamiliar, yet insignificantly weak life force creeping closer to him. He pulled his gaze away from the Saiyans at the table and came face to face with a human female he hadn't seen before. She had long blue hair like the woman's, but that was where the resemblance ended. For one thing, Bulma was dressed like a nun compared to this girl. The garment that was supposed to cover her chest was so laughably small that he could make out the top arch of her areolas and he didn't know why she even bothered with the bottom part for all it left to the imagination. Then there was her smell. The sickeningly sweet miasma of cheap perfume stung his sinuses, but wasn't potent enough to drown out the odour of stale alcohol, nicotine, and a few other narcotics travelling through her bloodstream.

It was a prostitute's scent.

"Hi there, Handsome. I'm Marron." She simpered in a syrupy sweet voice, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet while girlishly twirling a strand of hair between her fingers. The ploy to feign innocence was laid to waste however, by the lascivious way she shoved her unnaturally large breasts under Vegeta's nose, making him instantly wary.

"If you say so." He said curtly, and sidled to the right to put some distance between himself and the obtrusive creature. He startled with a jolt when she suddenly erupted in a bout of riotous laughter.

"You're so funny." She said, slapping him on the shoulder, but she didn't remove her hand once it hit its target. On the contrary, she smirked as a blood-red fingernail traced the grooves between the lean muscles underneath his shirt while her gaze traversed the rest of this superb specimen of masculinity standing before her.

Vegeta felt bile rise in his throat when he recognised the glint in the woman's pale green eyes. It was the same look Frieza used to give him.

With a warning growl he brushed her hand off his body and strutted over to the pool deck for lunch, hoping to lose her in the small crowd. As he neared the group, he noted the placing of everyone present as two decades worth of persecution had programmed him to do. Baldy and Kakkarot's mate sat at the table with the brats, listening to the boy prattle on about some or other childish topic. The woman had disappeared into the house while the rest were frolicking in the tub of bubbling water called a "Jacuzzi."

The prince took pleasure in the way their inane chatter quieted when they noticed his approach. It was good to know he could still strike fear into other warriors ~ even if they were a lot of spineless bottom feeders. By the time Vegeta made it to the veranda he was greeted by complete silence. He ignored the apprehensive stares of the assembled and fetched himself a plate from the stack, proceeding to fill it with something of everything before occupying the closest empty chair, which happened to be next to Krillin.

"Um… Hi Vegeta… I don't wanna be rude or anything… but … err… "

"Something on your mind, chrome dome?" The prince grumbled lowly, glancing up from his meal in annoyance.

"I don't mean to bother you, it's just… you're sorta in my girlfriend's seat." He explained with a nervous laugh, motioning to the bimbo from the garden who'd navigated a path back to the patio.

"That's OK, Krillin. I don't mind sharing with your friend." Marron chirped and before anyone could prevent it, she hopped into Vegeta's lap, wiggling her behind against his crotch as she made herself comfortable. Vegeta's temper rose like mercury in a thermometer at the woman's brazen disrespect and it was with a great feat of restraint that he kept from twisting her head off on the spot. Instead he bolted to his feet, letting her fall gauchely to ground like a sack of potatoes.

Marron raised her head, blinking owlishly in disbelief. Never in her life had any man rejected her so unequivocally and in full public view, but she didn't intend to take it lying down. After all, her boyfriend was one of the strongest people alive… and the most gullible.

"Ow! My ankle!" She yowled, grabbing hold of her leg.

"… Oh Krillin, he hurt me!" Marron wailed at the man who'd knelt beside her, with big crocodile tears welling up in her eyes for effect. Nurami scoffed doubtingly and Vegeta rolled his eyes, but Gohan and Chi Chi sat in deathly silence, waiting to see what Krillin would do.

"Now Marron, I'm sure Vegeta didn't mean any harm..." Krillin lied, praying that she didn't expect him to fight the Saiyan "…and we've talked about how you need to respect other people's boundaries. It doesn't look too bad, but I can take you to a doctor if you want?"

"Krillin, make him apologise!"

"Marron, please be reasonable."

"If you love me, you'll make him apologise." She whined manipulatively, pouting at her boyfriend. The poor monk was torn as he looked from his crying girlfriend to the alien warrior towering belligerently over them.

"You heard her, baldy. You gonna do something about it?" Vegeta taunted against his better judgement. Kakkarot had already noticed the tension and was getting out of the tub, ready to step in. Krillin, however, was too busy panicking to notice that his best friend was monitoring the situation. His eyes kept bouncing to and fro between Vegeta and Marron, trying to decide which one's ire he was least afraid of.

He settled on his girlfriend.

"He's a lot stronger than me baby. I'll get creamed."

"You're not gonna fight him?!"

"I… I can't, Marron. I'm sorry."

"Then you're the worst boyfriend ever!" She shrieked pettily and jumped up, the alleged sprained ankle forgotten as she stormed off with Krillin in tow, begging shamelessly for her forgiveness.

"Pathetic." The prince thought aloud, intending to return to his lunch, but he was interrupted before he could do so.

"That was kinda mean, Vegeta." Goku commented, having walked over to the dining area of the patio.

Vegeta was about to reclaim his chair, but remained standing when the third-class spoke up. The prick was already a good head taller than Vegeta's 1.86 metres and the prince didn't want to allow his rival even more altitude by sitting down.

"If you're envious Kakkarot, why don't you go get her? I'm sure she'll be just as happy to sit in your lap and rotate." Nurami snickered at the remark, Goku and Gohan looked puzzled while Chi Chi inhaled sharply, pressing her hands over her son's ears. The woman had never mastered the art of keeping her opinions to herself and with the encouragement of her husband's close proximity she dared to take on the source of the affront.

"We were having a perfectly nice time `till you showed up Vegeta. Why don't you do everyone a favour and skip back to your gravity chamber?" An evil grin spread across the prince's face as he turned his attention from Goku to the brunette sitting across from him. He powered up slightly, allowing the indigo aura of his energy to burn threateningly around him and leaned in, bringing him nose to nose with the raven-haired harpy.

"Do you intend to make me, bitch?" He hissed, relishing the aroma of angst that was now radiating off Chi Chi. From the boundary of his vision he saw Nurami practically salivating with blood thirst at the prospect of seeing Kakkarot's succubus vaporised and he sneered in amusement. He didn't need empathic abilities to sense the seething animosity that existed between the half-caste girl and his rival's witch.

His imperious display was cut short all of a sudden, as he felt a powerful hand grip his shoulder.

"Don't call my wife a bitch, Vegeta." Goku spoke from behind him, his own energy flaming dangerously. Vegeta turned to lock eyes with the other Saiyan and was stricken by the uncharacteristic aggression that played across the man's features.

"Holy shit. Maybe the idiot is Bonded." Vegeta thought with mild shock, immediately backing away from his nemesis' very relieved wench. If there was one thing the prince remembered about Saiyan society, it was never to threaten a man's Bonded mate in front of him. The results could be hazardous ~ particularly if the man in question was a Super Saiyan.

"You're right Kakkarot; no reason to insult female canines." Vegeta growled derisively, wrenching himself free of Goku's steely grasp and strode loftily indoors. He stalked to the kitchen, marched over to the sink and grabbed a glass from the overhead cabinet, pouring himself some water to quell his enflamed temper.

Bulma, again donning her sundress to graciously give Marron the advantage in the quest for Master Roshi's interest, entered the kitchen for a drink of her own, but stood stock still when she saw Vegeta standing with his back to her. She had two choices: she could do a one-eighty and go outside without any risk of a tongue-lashing or she could speak to him and face the consequences. She mauled on her bottom lip in consideration, deciding to screw up her courage and take the high road.

"You look nice. Taking a break?" There was no acid in her tone, only a light-hearted elation that caught the prince completely unawares. He held back his baleful comeback and forced himself to be civil.

"Kakkarot's wench doesn't seem to share you enthusiasm." He said, revolving to face her.

"Chi Chi? You shouldn't pay any attention to her. Nobody takes her seriously." Bulma answered with a shrug, going to the fridge to pour herself some cold ice tea. She held up the pitcher and gave it a little shake, making the ice clink to proposition the Saiyan. Vegeta's eyes narrowed as he seemed to consider for a moment, cynical as always, before dumping his water in the sink and handing her his glass in acceptance of the offer.

"Thanks. Could you please hand me one too? … Please!" She prompted when he didn't respond immediately. He gave her his the-Saiyan-prince-doesn't-take-orders-from-lowly-human-females look, but nevertheless did as she requested. Bulma smirked inwardly at the small triumph as she took the glass from him. She poured the drinks and handed him his, taking a seat at the table to enjoy her own.

She was stumped when he slinked over and casually dropped down next to her. He didn't say a word, but simply sipped his tea quietly while staring at her with a look of appraisal in his intense obsidian eyes, making her feel like an animal on display.

"How's the training going?" She blurted, needing to make conversation.

"Fine."

"Good. The pod holding up OK?"

He grunted and she took it as a "yes." His piercing stare never wavered and Bulma could feel heat rise in her cheeks as the oppressiveness in the atmosphere became almost tangible.

"I'd better get back outside." She said, looking for an escape and began to rise, but stopped when a firm hand clamped around her forearm, sending unexpected bolts of lightning racing through the extremity. She gasped softly and looked down at Vegeta's grip with astonishment before raising her eyes to his face, noticing that he too was staring at his hand in mortification. The Saiyan recovered briskly though, recoiling as if scalded and folded his arms against his chest to restrain his straying hands.

"I thought you had to go back outside." He muttered, his eyes trained on the fridge, refusing to meet her gaze. A small grin curved the corners of Bulma's lips when she discerned a very faint rouge colouring his countenance. He plainly wanted her to stay, but was either too obstinate to ask or he didn't know how.

"On second thought I think I'll stay here a bit longer. Chi Chi and Marron bug me." She confessed, settling back into her seat. The woman was more than a little intrigued. Her housemate rarely sought company and on the few occasions they did speak, it was mainly to quarrel and trade insults. This bizarrely placated side of him was a new anomaly and definitely worth exploring. They sat in silence for a short while, not really looking at each other but stealing glances from the corners of their eyes until Bulma gathered her wits enough to speak.

"So um… I had this idea the other day." She started nervously, testing the proverbial waters. It wasn't often she held the guarded warrior's rapt attention and she was using the chance to broach a topic she'd wanted to discuss with him for some time.

"… Do you remember back on Namek when Goku was hurt? Well he said that you put him in a kind of chamber that healed all his wounds in only a couple of hours…"

"A regen-tank." He stated, surprising the woman pleasantly. Bulma had been a burning ball of curiosity when Vegeta first moved into her guestroom and she spent the first few weeks of his stay getting thoroughly educated in the futility of trying to interview the alien prince. Vegeta had a bad case of paranoia, always suspecting even the most trivial of questions to contain some hidden meaning and he hardly ever gave a straight answer, making it tediously difficult to extract information from him. Bulma didn't know if he'd be willing to answer her questions about the "regen-tank" and she certainly didn't expect him to volunteer anything. The inconsequential revelation of the device's name showed that she'd sparked at least a tiny bit of interest in him and that gave her the confidence to delve deeper into the subject.

"I guess you'd know what it's called. Anyway, a machine like that would totally revolutionise the practice of medicine here on Earth and I was thinking ~ you know with Koola coming to attack us and all ~ that it would be pretty great if Capsule Corp. could manufacture something similar and since you…"

"You really think you could build one?" He interrupted noncommittally, looking somewhat bored, but Bulma's cautiously optimistic heart soared at the query.

"Probably. If I just knew what a `regen-tank' looked like I'm sure I could figure out how it works. Goku tried to describe the thing, but he was delirious and half unconscious when he saw it and he wasn't a big help. So I was wondering if maybe you could… if you won't mind telling me about it? You don't have to get technical or anything. I only need a basic…"

"Stay here." He ordered sharply, getting up and strode purposefully from the room before Bulma could inquire where he was going.

"What did I say?" The woman asked the empty doorway, throwing her hands up in addled exasperation. Nevertheless she remained where she was. Her inquisitiveness had been ignited by his odd behaviour and she wanted to see what he was up to. She didn't have long to wait as he came sauntering into the kitchen a minute later, smirking complacently as he fell back into his chair and tossed a pile of bound papers down on the table in front of her.

"What's this?" She asked, looking askance at the file.

"It's not gonna explode. Go on, check it out." He prodded nonchalantly. Bulma cast him a sceptical glance, but picked up the pages all the same and began to flip through them disinterestedly, halting when her gaze fell on a couple of highly detailed sketches. She brought the images up to her nose for closer inspection and her jaw dropped as she realised what she was looking at.

"Is this what I think it is?"

"It's a schematic for a regen-tank. It's not complete, but you should be able to fill in the blanks on your own. And you'll need a team of geneticists to compile a formula for the healing fluid."

"You… you drew all this… from memory?" Bulma asked in awe, staring at him with wide eyes.

"Raditz did doubly duty as a med-tech." He stated cryptically.

"… Only a complete shithead could watch a man work for twenty years without learning something of his trade." He clarified hotly in response to her vacant expression, but she noticed that he didn't quite meet her eyes as he spoke.

"Raditz… he was your friend, wasn't he?" Bulma inquired carefully, laying down the schematic as her concern shifted to Vegeta. After hearing of the brutality with which he'd disposed of Nappa she didn't think he was capable of forming such attachments, but what he'd just let slip disproved that theory.

"He was a loyal subject." Vegeta barked shortly, effectively slamming the door on the subject before it even opened. Bulma chewed her bottom lip, as was her habit when discomposed, and swallowed down the condolences his pride would never allow him to accept. With a stifled sigh she dropped the issue and reassigned her attention to the blueprint, getting an overview of the directions he'd jotted down to explain the sketches. With every turn of the page she became more and more impressed with the thoroughness of his work and by the time she finished scanning the document, she held a new reverence for the Saiyan Prince. She'd known that he was smarter than the average muscle-bound thug, but his technological know-how and meticulous work ethic put some of her best technicians to shame. She'd need more time to study the designs for an accurate timeframe, but from what she'd gathered so far, Capsule Corp. could well be able to begin production within six months, maybe less. If not for Vegeta's input, it would've taken years of research to reach that stage ~ if they got there at all.

"How long have you been working on this?"

"A while." He clipped, not inclined to tell her just how many sleepless nights he'd spent compiling the designs. Bulma took the hint, smoothing her hands over the file that had swiftly ascended in status from a simple stack of notes to a priceless scientific breakthrough and raised her head to meet his gaze.

"Vegeta, do you realise how many people we can help with this?!"

"It will come in handy if that substandard pod of yours gives out again. That's all that matters to me." He grumbled truthfully. That was the only reason he'd bothered with the project, but he didn't want her to see how pleased he was with her approval either. Bulma saw through him though, and she chose to ignore his selfish remark.

"It's amazing Vegeta. Thank you." She said, smiling with appreciation and respect brimming in the crystalline pools of her eyes and darted forward on a whim, placing a gratuitous kiss on his cheek.

"Hope I'm not interrupting." An abrasive voice sniped from the doorway, startling them both.

"Yamcha!" Bulma squeaked, anxiously smoothing her hair with her palms. Vegeta would've said something wittingly mordant if the woman's unexpected gesture hadn't negated his brain, but all he could do was sit there and pray that the human wouldn't notice the bewilderment tingeing his features.

"… We were just…Vegeta drew me a regen-tank. See?" She explained, holding up the file.

"Whatever!" Yamcha sneered cantankerously and left as brusquely as he'd appeared.

"Vegeta, I have to go after him." Bulma implored, her eyes pleading with him to understand.

"I'm not stopping you." He huffed, succeeding narrowly in his bid to sound uncaring. Bulma smiled apologetically before rushing after her mate with the blueprint in hand, leaving Vegeta alone with his mulling thoughts. Slowly his fingers rose to his face, resting on the tingling spot where her lips had grazed his skin and his guts knotted as a fresh brand of confusion washed over him. He had no name for the feelings that surged when the woman touched him so fondly, but the way she had smiled at him; with such warm regard reflected in her bottomless blue eyes…

It was a look he had seen from time to time, passed between loved ones, but the like had never been directed at him and it was profoundly soothing and grievously terrifying at the same time.

What the hell was she doing to him?

_______________________________________________________________ _______

* `Unwell' by Matchbox 20

Next Chapter: Sweet dreams and bitter words.

OK, there you have it… Vegeta stands over six feet in this fic O_o It's an AU and its mine so I can make the dude as tall as I like. Just to be fair though, according to my observations Veggie did get progressively taller throughout the show as his popularity grew, and by GT, he's indeed only a head shorter than adult Goku. However if a tall Vegeta really totally freaks you out, feel free to flame if it'll make you feel better ^_~