Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Compromising Positions ❯ Chapter 1

Author Notes: It’s AU. I changed one little wish just a tiny, tiny bit. Oh, it’s also yaoi, although I’m not entirely sure who I’m gonna have screw who. Also, it is entirely off the wall, so the first bit’s gonna seem like I don’t care if it reads well or not. It’s a tad mite jerky, it is. I intend to let it stay that way, because for once, I want something a bit more comedic than my usual dark fare. And simply because I like ‘em that way, male Saiyans can and do, have and probably will get pregnant.

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“I wish all those on Namek killed by Frieza or his men would be returned to life!”

On Namek, Vegeta finds himself buried. Slightly confused and rather put out, he blasts his way out of his grave. Moments later, he is on the hunt for Frieza and Kakarot. Several miles distant, a very confused Jeice and a even more morbid Zarbon are examining their reflections in the water they know they died near. Satisfied they are still pretty, they set out to find their fellow soldiers. Gordo rises, patting himself all over, wondering just what the hell happened. Burter helps Reecomb to his feet, and they set out to find their captain. Neither has the brains to realize something major just happened. Even further away, Dodoria blasts his way out of the water, spitting in irritation and wondering where the irritating little prince has gotten to. And that nasty thing whose name starts with Q decided to save Vegeta the trouble of killing him again, and died of shock.

“Now bring everyone on Namek except Goku and Frieza here to Earth!”

“GODSBEDAMNEDIT!” a highly irate Vegeta roared.

“EEEK!” Jeice hid behind Burter. “He’s here! What’s he doing here? Where are we? What happened? Why am I babbling?”

“Shock, probably,” replied a familiar silken voice. “Don’t irritate the princeling, he’s much stronger than you.”

“I know that!” Jeice whined. “So why… where… tell me this ain’t the afterlife? I don’t want him in my afterlife!”

“It isn’t the afterlife,” a rather cross female voice answered. “This is Earth, you’re on my turf now.”

Jeice turned. “Oh, ain’t you a pretty thing!”

Bulma blinked, then grinned cheekily at the orange warrior. “Of course I am! I am Bulma Briefs, after all!”

“Why the hell are we here?”

“Because Goku said so,” Krillin told the Saiyan. His attempt to sound bold failed miserably, and he quailed beneath the glaring dark eyes. “I just don’t know why you’re here! You’re supposed to be…” He gulped and took a very large step backwards.

“Okay, first things first! Who killed who? Why are you guys here? Aren’t you the bad guys?” Bulma snapped out her questions quickly. “None of you should have been brought here!”

“Well, I did what Goku said and wished everyone here, Bulma,” Krillin reminded her. “So if they were alive, they would have been brought by… um, yeah, shutting up now.”

“I believe Vegeta killed most of us,” Zarbon informed the blue-haired woman.

“Drat it all, Krillin, you couldn’t get one simple wish right?” Bulma rounded on the man, leaving the unexpected visitors to amuse themselves.

Zarbon looked around. “Did you take out the entire Ginyu force, Vegeta? I even see the Captain.”

Vegeta snorted. “Kakarot turned him into a frog.”

“What?” various members of the Ginyu force shrieked.

“He tried that body changing trick of his, and Kakarot threw a frog in his way.” Vegeta cocked a thumb in the direction of the oddly-behaving Ginyu captain’s former body. “That’s a frog in there. Ginyu’s in a frog body.”

Reecomb looked rather guiltily at the bottom of his shoe, then carefully wiped the frog guts off of it. No one noticed.

“Vegeta, that boy,” Zarbon indicated Gohan, “he is a Saiyan, isn’t he? Whose? He seems far too old to be Raditz’ get, yet… there are similarities.”

Vegeta’s eyes narrowed. “It’s no concern of yours, Zarbon.”

Zarbon played with the end of his braid. “It could be my concern.”

“Gah, you bedded that long-haired monkey?” Dodoria snarled. “There weren’t enough of them around to suit you, you had to go and breed another one?”

Vegeta’s jaw clenched. Gohan, who’d come up to them, blinked at the two oddly colored men in confusion, then tugged on Vegeta’s armor. “What’s he mean?” His question was ignored as both Saiyans’ heads snapped toward the distant planet Namek. A wide smile appeared on Gohan’s face. “Knew he could!” he whispered. “Dad’s the best!”

Zarbon glanced around again, curiously. His voice tight, he asked, “Where is Frieza?”

Vegeta and Gohan spoke at the same time. “Kakarot…” “My daddy…” They exchanged glares. “Kakarot just killed him.”

Zarbon raised an eyebrow. “Oh, good.” He ki-blasted Dodoria, watching the oversized warty blob fall with obvious satisfaction. “Now I don’t have to deal with that awful talking zit anymore.”

Gohan giggled. He’d been around Bulma too long on the ship - he knew all about zits. It didn’t take him long to sober, though. “What did the zit man mean about beading…” he frowned, “no, breeding another one?”

“Are you Raditz’ son?” Zarbon inquired.

“No.”

“Vegeta’s?” Zarbon sounded doubtful, and smirked slightly at Vegeta’s outraged snort of disgust. “Never mind, obviously not.”

“Kakarot is his sire. He’s nothing but a half-breed.”

“Cute half-breed,” Burter said. “C’n I have him to …” Vegeta blew his head off. Jeice gulped, and hid behind Zarbon.

“Yuck. What difference does it make who my daddy is?”

“Raditz was carrying my child.” Vegeta boggled disbelievingly. Gohan just frowned and seemed to be lost. “Saiyan males can bear children - Raditz was pregnant.”

Gohan’s eyes got very big. “Pre… preg… pregnant? Like a mommy?”

“Yes. How old are you?” (a/n: the great question. 4 or 5, depending on which translation you have… I think I’ll go with)

“Six.” (a/n: because you had the whole trip out to Namek, and not in the 4-day ship that Goku took. So pttthtt!)

“I… he… how?” The boy blinked suddenly. “No, don’t answer that. Vegeta, is he telling me true? Can you get pregnant? Can Daddy?”

“Yes,” Vegeta answered so tightly that Gohan backed toward Zarbon. “Your father and I can get pregnant, under the right circumstances. I don’t know about you, you’re half-blood.” He glared at Zarbon. “The result of those special training sessions, Zarbon?”

Zarbon shook his head, smacking Jeice in the face with his braid. “Mutual appreciation society, I’m afraid.”