Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Another World ❯ Chapter 5 ( Chapter 5 )

ANOTHER WORLD

AN: This fic begins on the day Radditz would have arrived on Earth. Warnings: Language, possible references to sex.

Disclaimer: I did not create DragonballZ. Although I've been offered millions, I refuse to make money on my stories.

Chapter 5

Morning came. Bulma had finally fallen asleep around two a.m., but despite her lack of sleep she still awoke when the sunlight hit her room. She raced to her window and looked down at the lawn. The ship was still there.

Relief coursed through her. Despite his words last night, she had been afraid that he might leave without seeing her again. Bulma looked at the nightstand and the capsule resting on it. She'd left the rose garden last night determined to give him a small memento of his visit to Earth. She didn't think he would need something to remember her by, but there was enough of her mother in her that she didn't want him to leave empty handed. It wasn't much really --- a trifle, a souvenir.

She took a quick shower, got dressed and then foolishly ran to the window to make sure the ship was still there. It was, of course and she could see that Goku and Gohan had come to say goodbye to Radditz. The three of them were on the lawn outside the ship. Of Vegeta there was no sign.

Bulma hesitated. She wanted to make sure she was able to give Vegeta her gift, but she had wanted to do it in private, without Radditz and certainly without Goku and Gohan watching. If she went down now, she would get roped into a big group goodbye and wouldn't get to . . . .

Get to what? Tell him how sorry she was things weren't different? That wasn't true. If "different" meant he had to lose everything then she didn't want different. She hadn't even considered how different her life would have to be. She remembered how blithely Radditz had commented on the lucrative sale of planets. Would 'different' mean Earth would be purged and sold? Would 'different' mean slavery under the evil Frieza?

Her mind swirled with the possibilities. In another world maybe things would work between them, but it wouldn't be hearts and flowers romance, if only because Vegeta was an aggravating son of a bitch. She smiled and wondered what it would be like to face off with him on a daily basis.

And curl up with him at night.

Bulma shook herself. Thank goodness Yamcha was out of town! She felt disloyal. No, she was disloyal. Yamcha was her husband and no matter how much the prospect of a future with Vegeta intrigued her, she had no business fantasizing about another man --- none at all. For that matter, she had no right to "private goodbyes" either! She went over to her nightstand and grabbed the capsule, determined to end this sojourn into the Twilight Zone once and for all. In another world things might be different, but she lived in this one, dammit, and the sooner she had this world to herself the better.

She almost ran into him as she was leaving the room. He walked in quickly, as if he too sensed the need to leave her to her world. He had a small machine under his arm.

She stopped short, surprised at seeing him in her bedroom. He might have read her thoughts because he said, "your mother said you were up here."

"Oh," she answered and an uncomfortable silence followed. A second ago she had been determined to be shed of him, watch him fly from her world and her life. Now he was here in front of her and instead of "goodbye" all she could think of to say was "stay".

Or "take me with you".

So she stared at him, memorized his face, the set of his shoulders, the lean line of his jaw. The morning light on his hair, his skin. The way his eyes could meet hers without looking down. Her eyes went down to the device he was holding and she realized he wasn't wearing any gloves. His fingers were long and lean --- strong, capable . . . skilled.

She forced her eyes back to his face, determined to avoid another dangerous train of thought. "Is the cell all charged?" she asked.

"Yes." He looked uncertain for a moment and then he said slowly, "I want to give you something, but you have to promise not to tear it apart."

Bulma's lips twisted. "Afraid I might break it?"

"Always," he answered and his face brightened as he said it. He pulled the device from under his arm and presented it to her. "It's a subspace transmitter."

Bulma's eyes flew to his face in question. He wasn't suggesting that they communicate with this thing? Carry on some chaste, ultra-long distance affair?

Again, it was like he read her mind. "No, it's for emergencies. Earth is too remote now to be threatened, but it will not always be so. For saving my son, you have earned the right to the protection of the Saiyan Empire. Raddtiz tells me Kakarrot has great potential as a warrior, but he is not yet ready to defend the planet. Should the Earth be threatened, send a message and the might of my world will defend yours."

Bulma reached out to take the transmitter. "How does it work?"

He grinned. "You mean you haven't figured it out yet?"

"Ha ha," Bulma said. "You just told me I couldn't take it apart. So I guess you're going to have to show me how it works." She set the transmitter on a console. "That is, if you know how." She crossed her arms and waited.

"Switch this and push here," he said with irritation. Impudent wench! "There! Are you happy?"

Bulma smiled. "Immensely."

His breath caught in his throat as he looked at her. Beautiful, he thought. Utterly, completely, unforgettably beautiful! He felt himself falling into her eyes and he knew he would never again see blue without thinking of her.

"It . . ." he said, "it's not programmed to transmit to Vegeta-sei. It transmits to a relay station 12,000 light years from here. It will take four days for any message to reach the relay station, but after that it is only hours away from the Imperial Command Office."

"And it's three days to Earth from Vegeta-sei?"

"Yes."

"I won't wait till the last minute to call then. Be a shame if you came all of that way only to find rubble." Another smile.

"I will not return."

The smile faded. "Of course. I only meant . . . ." She looked away. Damn this was awkward. She finally met his eyes again. "Thank you. It's a very thoughtful gift. And I have something for you too!" Bulma said, remembering. She held out the capsule. "It's nothing really. Just a little souvenir of your trip to Earth. I wanted to get your son a T-shirt that said "My dad went to Earth and all I got was this dumb T-shirt" but since you're the first aliens to visit they aren't making them yet."

He was looking at her again in that way that said he had no idea what the hell she was saying. And no wonder, I'm babbling, she thought. I'm raving like a lunatic. He probably can't wait to leave.

Instead she felt his hand close on hers and he slowly removed the capsule.

Warm, she thought as his hand touched hers. So warm and soft. She found herself clutching his hand and pulling it to her.

"This is the part where you leave, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yes."

Shit! Her eyes were tearing up. If I start blubbering, I'm going to kill myself. Do something! she screamed to herself and instinct took over as she quickly reached her other arm behind his head and crushed her lips to his.

At first he did nothing and Bulma feared she had gravely overstepped her bounds. Then suddenly his arms were around her and he was kissing her back furiously, passionately. It was a lifetime of kisses poured into one-good mornings, goodnights, endless hours of lovemaking. All were poured into this, their one kiss. It was their forever in one moment.

Finally, he set her from him. The tears she had fought so hard to contain now spilled down her cheeks and he knew that this would be the face he would see when he remembered her. The face that knew tomorrow would never come for them.

"In another world, in another life, I will find you," he promised.

She managed a smile. "I'll be waiting."

He reached out and cradled a cheek briefly, then he turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Moments later, Bulma heard the ship power up and she ran to the window in time to see the cloaking device conceal the ship. She traced the blur of the ship with her eyes until it vanished into the glare of the morning sun.

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Vegeta stormed onto the cruiser.

"Launch!" he yelled to Radditz up on the bridge, and then he went further into the ship, back to the lounge. He threw himself onto a bench, but couldn't sit still, so he stood and paced the small interior of the room. What he really wanted was to blast something into tiny bits, but giving in to that urge on a spaceship was suicide.

So he paced. He paced and wondered what he could have done differently. He wondered how she would have answered if he had asked her to . . . . What? Come with him to Vegeta-sei?

No. That was out of the question. She was bound to another as was he. This was a matter of honor. Their time was past.

No. Their time never was.

He finally sat down, the realization sapping the energy from his limbs. There was no happy ending because there was no story to tell. They should never have met; they should have gone blithely through the rest of their lives, ignorant of the other's existence.

He had told her that he didn't think he could ever be content again. Was that true? He thought of his life --- his planet, his people, and his family. It was more than he ever thought he would have. It was wrong to want . . . more.

But he would never look at the stars the same way again.

"Sire, I have made the jump to hyperspeed. The cell is performing perfectly. We should be home in three days," Radditz said, interrupting Vegeta's reverie.

Vegeta gave a small nod. "Excellent" was all he said.

Radditz observed his king. The quiet demeanor was at odds with the usual vigor the king displayed. He ventured a guess.

"Did the woman say 'no'?"

Vegeta's eyes flew to Radditz's face and for a moment, Radditz thought he saw panic in them before it was quickly shuttered away.

"I didn't ask."

"Didn't ask? I thought you decided we needed to obtain the capsule technology. Its uses are manifold. We---"

Realization and relief dawned on Vegeta. "Oh, the capsules. No, I decided we would develop it on our own."

"Devel---" Radditz started, but then he heard what Vegeta had just said. "What did you think I was asking about?"

Vegeta blinked, caught. He swallowed and then said, "I'm sure I have no idea."

Radditz's eyes narrowed and then widened as pieces began to fall into place. So there was more happening between the woman and his king. He had felt the chemistry (if one could call fighting "chemistry") between them, but he never thought that Vegeta would actually . . . .

"Sire---"

Vegeta stood. "The woman gave you Vegeta's pod back in a capsule, did she not?" Radditz nodded. "That is all we need. Turn it over to Research and Development when we return." Then he turned on his heel and walked back towards the med bay were his son was.

Vegeta took a few calming breaths. Nothing, he knows nothing he told himself. Guesses, feelings. Nothing happened. Everything happened.

He looked at his son. It seemed like a lifetime ago since he had spoken to him. The young prince floated in the tank, asleep. He had been completely healed for hours, but Vegeta had decided to leave him in the tank for the duration of the trip home. He didn't trust himself not to beat the boy into a bloody pulp for his outright defiance of the quarantine order. Leash round his neck, indeed!

The boy had become more defiant lately, questioning Vegeta's decisions regarding his training and his pastimes. All the other boys fought in off-world tournaments. Lano got to go hunting poisonous bolki on Malnan Prime with his dad's squad. Jal and Hab got to travel more than ten parsecs without an elite. The list of his son's embarrassments and grievances went on and on.

But . . . the boy didn't understand. How could he? How could he know what it was like to fight to win with every ounce of strength your body possessed, only to lose? How could he understand the guilt Vegeta felt everyday? How did you look your son in the eye and tell him that his brother's death gave his father the greatest gift? How did one explain to a child that failing to protect what was most important to him had given him power beyond any Saiyan's dreams? How could you explain the joy you feel at the power or the guilt you feel at the cost?

And how do you answer the inevitable question: Would you pay the price again?

No. No I would not, son.

It was time for the truth. Vegeta punched the blue button and watched the tank drain.

Later when his son was dry and dressed, Vegeta sat down with his son.

"I want to tell you a story . . . ."

When Vegeta finished speaking, the prince was silent, thoughtful. Then he spoke.

"Father, I know that you are trying to protect me. But I'm not him. I'm not a baby. I am strong." He paused and leaned forward. "Let me grow up now. I won't disappoint you."

Disappointment was never my fear, Vegeta thought and his chest swelled with pride. Not a baby anymore. He pressed his lips together in a small smile. "Are you suggesting I 'loosen your leash?'"

His son winced. "You heard about that, did you? Sorry."

Vegeta smiled a true smile this time. "I am the king. People tell me these things," he said. "Let us speak to Raddtiz and see how long a leash we can arrange."

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Yamcha came home about eight o'clock that night. The house was quiet and dark. He knew it was Mrs. Briefs's bunko night and Dr. Briefs was probably in his corporate lab. That left Bulma. Where was she?

He wandered from room to room, flipping on lights, hoping for a note that said she was over helping her dad in his lab. His heart sank a little bit more each time he found a room empty. What would he do if she had gone?

He finally found her in their darkened bedroom, staring out at the sky. Relief flooded though him. She's still here. He dropped his bag to the floor, and the sound made her turn her head. Even in the dim light he could see the hollows in her eyes, the sadness. He wondered how long she'd been standing there, staring out of the window, but then he decided he didn't really want to know the answer to that question.

"Are they gone?" he asked.

He saw her face wrench slightly and he knew what was coming next, so he did the only thing he could. He held out his arms and Bulma ran into them. She buried her face against his chest and wept. He merely held her, letting her cry tears for another man. Others might think it was odd that he could do so, but Yamcha loved his wife. He loved her beauty, her bossiness, her temper. He had loved her at sixteen and now perhaps, as she cried tears not meant for him, he loved her more.

At last Bulma's tears faded and she pulled back slightly and wiped her eyes with her hands.

"Sorry," she said. "I guess I'm more tired than I thought."

"That's alright, babe," Yamcha said. "You did a lot of hard work the last twenty-four hours." He pulled her back into his arms, thrilled that he could still do so. And she hugged him back. It felt good.

She pushed back again suddenly. "Hey, I forgot. Did you win?"

He looked into his wife's eyes and brushed his fingers across her cheek. "Yes. Yes, I did."

But he wasn't speaking about the game.

********************************************************* *******************************************

Three days later, the king's cruiser arrived on Vegeta-sei. A small contingent of Elites escorted the queen to the landing pad. She bowed low as her husband and king exited the ship, but her eyes were looking for her son. Vegeta raised her from her curtsey and dismissed the Elites before they left the landing area.

"Where is our son, Vegeta?"

"Radditz has taken him to the Elite Training Facility. If he is going to fight pirates then he needs more rigorous training."

Cilantra's eyebrows raised. "You're going to let him fight pirates? What changed your mind?"

"It is time, Cilantra. The boy is not afraid. Why should we be?"

Cilantra decided to let the subject drop and they walked in silence until they reached their private chambers. Once the door was closed, Cilantra said, "Husband, we discussed this. We decided it was best to keep Vegeta from unnecessary risk."

"He is seeking risk anyway, Cilantra. All we can do is prepare him for it."

Her face softened and she relented. "You are right, of course. I've been foolish. Our son is strong."

"He takes after his mother," he said and the impulse to hold his wife overcame him. He took her in his arms and held her, realizing suddenly that he had missed her.

Cilantra was startled by Vegeta's embrace, although not so much that she did not wrap her own arms around him. "Vegeta," she asked. "What is it?"

He pulled back a little to look into her face and smiled a soft smile. "Nothing," he said. "It is good to be home."

Vegeta never opened the capsule that Bulma had given him. There was something too final about opening it. He kept it hidden away, a secret present from another life that never was.

In another world, in another life . . . .

Bulma lay in the arms of her husband, exhausted. To say that the day had been trying would be the understatement of the year.

They had been awakened at three that morning by a phone call --- from Goten, of all people. Hearing Vegeta snarl "This had better be good!" into the phone, Goten immediately asked to speak to Bulma.

"Bra needs you to come. There's not a lot of time to explain and we didn't want you to find out this way, but the baby's coming early and she's scared."

"Baby!"

"Bra's having a baby. We've been married six months."

So she and Vegeta had thrown on clothes and flown across the continent to the hospital where Bra was in labor. They made it in good time and Bra delivered a healthy baby boy, despite arriving a month premature. Once the main event was out of the way, Goten told the rest of their amazing story.

Bulma had known in the back of her mind that Goten had moved to Appletown, but she didn't think that he and Bra would ever cross paths when she went to the university there. Indeed, they had only crossed paths by accident; Goten had been teaching in a dojo that Bra's current boyfriend attended. Despite having a job, Goten had looked so down on his luck that Bra had offered to buy him lunch one day. Over lunch, Goten had confided that he was saving all his money because the owner was selling the dojo. It wasn't making money and the owner wanted to retire. "But it can make money," Goten had said. "I know it can, I've got all these ideas . . . ." His enthusiasm infected Bra and she offered to lend him the money to buy the dojo on one condition: that he let her make it her project for her Business Planning class next term. He had readily agreed and the two had spent the next semester revamping the dojo and falling in love. The dark cloud over their heads was Bra's parents' reaction to the match.

"I know I'm a lot older than she is," Goten said, "and believe me, I fought it. I didn't want to love her like I do, but, "and he looked at Vegeta when he said this, "you can't stop loving someone just because you don't want to. And after a while, I just stopped trying.

"We wanted to tell you; we did and we never meant for it to get his far, honest. We just were afraid because I'm so much older and Goku's son that you wouldn't approve."

At this, Vegeta had snarled, "and you're right!" and stormed out of the waiting area. Bulma immediately got up to follow him, but Goten held her back.

"This is between him and me," he said. "Whether he realizes it or not, we're in this for the long haul. He needs to understand that he can't win this one."

Bulma had been surprised and proud of Goten's courage and let him go. He and Vegeta vanished outside for what seemed like forever. When they came back, Vegeta was sullen, but made no more outbursts. When Bra was finally put into a private room, Vegeta went in and closed the door. After fifteen minutes of speaking to his daughter, he opened the door and let Bulma and Goten in.

He had been silent the rest of the afternoon, paying little attention to Bulma as she made lists of things Bra and the baby needed or decided which rooms to convert into permanent guest rooms for the new family when they visited.

Finally, Bra announced she was tired and wanted to sleep and Bulma and Vegeta made the trip back home to Capsule Corporation. After two attempts to draw Vegeta into conversation, Bulma decided to let him stew until they were at home. Now, in the dark and quiet of their bedroom, Bulma decided to speak.

"I guess we know now why she could never come home," she said.

"Hnn."

So much for the roundabout route, she thought. Next she tried a direct assault.

"You're not really upset about Goten are you?"

Vegeta said nothing and after a while Bulma decided that his grunt to her first statement might be all he would ever say on the matter. But he surprised her, finally speaking in a low voice.

"No. He is truly her choice. And for all he looks like him, he is not Kakarrot. He will not treat his wife so badly."

"No," Bulma agreed. "Of course, it helps having a father-in-law who will kick his butt if he makes her unhappy!"

A very small chuckle. "Well, it doesn't hurt."

"Where did you two go this afternoon?"

"He took me to see his dojo. He wanted to show me that he could take care of Bra and the baby."

"That's so sweet! I want to see it too. Is it nice?"

She felt Vegeta shrug. "I suppose. There seemed to be a lot of students."

"See? It all works out in the end. This surprise marriage to Goten isn't as bad as you thought."

"I suppose not," he said and then paused. "At least my grandchild looks Saiyan."

"Ah! I wondered when you were going to rub that in. Your Saiyan genes have finally triumphed over my human ones!"

He didn't laugh at her joke nor did he "rub it in." Instead he fell so silent that Bulma had to ask, "Vegeta, what is it?"

"Nothing. I just said two words I never thought I would say."

"What two words?"

"My grandchild."

Bulma's heart ached for him. Trunks's homosexuality had hit Vegeta hard and had caused a rift between them for the better part of a year. Vegeta's objection had more to do with Trunks failure to continue the male line of the royal house rather than any sexual prudery. It had been a tense, ugly time and Bulma was relieved when Trunks finally convinced his father to accept his lifestyle and choice. She knew acceptance didn't change the pain Vegeta felt for his lost heritage. Here was a chance to heal that wound as well.

"A new heir for the royal House of Vegeta-sei," she reminded him. Perhaps little Nashi came from their daughter, but he carried Vegeta's legacy all the same.

Again, he surprised her. "There is no House of Vegeta-sei. It died years ago and far away."

His hollow voice echoed through her. Her eyes grew moist and she felt a stab of pain for all he had lost. Most of the time she never saw the scars of that day so long ago when his life changed forever. Tonight though, the scars were gone and a gaping wound was in their place. Odd how the birth of a child, usually a happy event, can raise the ghosts of the long-dead.

She wrapped her arms around him tighter. "I'm sorry, Vegeta. If I could bring back your world, I would."

He reached with one hand and stroked her arm, accepting her comfort. "I'm alright, Bulma." He took a slow breath, shedding the melancholy as he released the air. "I used to be so angry for everything taken from me. Wondering what my life might have been like if things were different. Sometimes I imagine myself as king of Vegeta-sei, a man grown, walking the halls of the palace, Elites at my side."

"Am I your queen?" she asked playfully.

"We would never have met, Bulma."

"What do you mean?"

"Earth is in largely unexplored space. Eventually a squad would have been sent to investigate the fate of Kakarrot, but I certainly wouldn't have been a part of it. And I don't need to tell you what would have happened to Earth once the squad arrived."

"No," she said slowly and shivered. She'd gotten a wee taste of what Saiyans did to planets when Nappa and Vegeta had first arrived. "I never thought about it like that, how accidental fate is. I can't imagine my life without you, but now that I look back, I see how unlikely it is that you wound up here. If your planet still existed, you wouldn't be here. If Frieza hadn't killed you, you wouldn't be here. If Trunks hadn't warned us of the future . . . . So many possibilities and in most of them, we never wind up here." She fell silent as she thought about how incredibly lucky she was to have beaten those odds.

He glanced at her as she lay ruminating on all the possible futures she might have had, with or without him. "Although," he drawled, "if we had met, I'm sure I would have recognized you for what you are."

"Oh yeah?" Bulma said, raising her head to look at him. "What's that? Your worst nightmare?"

Vegeta looked at her face in the darkness and whatever playful insult he had devised died on his lips. All he could see was Bulma and the years fell away. He saw her as she looked that day at Kami's lookout after defeating Buu. Her eyes shining with unshed tears, the tilt of her head as she gave him the "thumbs up". He'd known in that moment that she suited him like no one else, that she understood him like no one else, but most of all, that she loved him like no one else. It was an infinite universe, but in a blind stoke of luck, he had wound up where he should have been all along.

He reached out and stroked her cheek. "You are the other half of my soul."

He'd startled her; he could see that. She had been expecting the insult as well. But she recovered quickly and drew breath to reply. He placed his fingertips on her lips to stop her from speaking.

"I think I am allowed the last word once in thirty-five years, don't you?"

Bulma nodded. He removed his fingers. "Now, I don't suppose there's any way I can talk you out of getting up and heading back to the hospital tomorrow?"

Bulma shook her head.

"Then lie down and get some sleep. You're grumpy when you're tired."

Bulma smiled and did as she was told, resting her head on Vegeta's chest. She fell asleep quickly, but the smile lasted long into the night.

*Fin*

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Thanks for reading. This is usually the part where I think 'everyone' who reviewed, but were only two, so . . . Evelyn and Veglma, thank you for reviewing. Typing a few words may seem like small thing to you, but it truly meant the world to me.

As always, super big thanks and hugs to Ember for her fabulous beta skills and to debbiechan, who always provides the most thoughtful and caring feedback. Domo arigato, ladies.