Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Dragonball AU ❯ Bleah. Eight, already. Uploading these is hell. ( Chapter 8 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

         When Raditz entered the engine room he was greeted by a very harried-looking Saiya-jin elite and a very irritated human female.
         "It's about time you got here!" they said in unison.
         "Gomen nasai, Nappa-San." He bowed once before turning his attention to his engines. Which were a bloody mess. "I was afraid of this" He mumbled to himself before getting to work.
         "Why is that conduit attached to this power relay? And who's bright idea was it to attach the binary transmitters directly to the reactor channel without a de-ionizing filter?" She asked rapidly pointing from one component to the next.
         "de-ionizing distorts purity. I'd have to spend all of my time down here adjusting the damn filters and we'd lose engine efficiency. And where else do you expect that conduit to be plugged in?"
         "Well, logically, it should be plugged in here." she pointed to an empty outlet.
         "Are you insane!?" He stared down at her.
         "No, I'm a genius! People with lesser intellects have such an annoying habit of confusing the two!"
         "Look here, genius girl, if we re-align the transmitter circuit we'd have to recalibrate the entire ship. It's easier this way."
         They were so involved in their argument, that they didn't immediately notice when the door opened and a rather piqued prince came stalking in. "Raditz." He said calmly.
         "And we don't have to go replacing all the parts." Raditz continued, still oblivious to Vegeta-Sama's presence.
         "Raditz." He said a little louder.
         "Huh?" He turned around, "Oh! Hai, Ouji-Sama?"
         "Do I look like a babysitter?" Vegeta still sounded calm.
         Raditz furrowed his brow, "Uh N-no, Ouji-Sama?"
         Vegeta closed his eyes, "I didn't think so." Then, snapping them open he yelled, "Then get back to training that pet baka of yours!"
         "ButOuji-SamaThe engines" Raditz gesticulated helplessly.
         "Keh!" Vegeta looked disgustedly at the taller soldier's infantile behavior, "If you want to act like a child, you will be denied the privileges of a soldier! From now on you will not speak unless spoken to, and never go anywhere without permission. Any slip-ups and you will be," Vegeta lowered his voice for emphasis before promising his new favorite punishment, "sent to bed without dinner."
         Raditz paled and nodded, "Hai, Ouji-Sama." Before turning his gaze to glare at the little minx who'd given Ouji-Sama knowledge of that brutal reprisal.
         Bulma looked up at Nappa's nervous expression, then met Raditz's glower and was hard pressed not to dissolve into giggles at the absurdity of the situation. If circumstances hadn't proven to be frightfully real, she would have suspected that she'd fallen into some kind of weird, drug induced dream and these three characters were merely hallucinations.
         "So what are you waiting for!?" Without waiting for a reply, Vegeta led the way back to the training room.
         Goku was still laying on the floor, pushing himself up and down on his knuckles. When the two warriors entered, he glanced up wearily and panted, "'Geta-Sama, has it been fifty yet?"
         Unprepared for such blatant stupidity, Vegeta merely stared down at him, uncomprehendingly.
         Raditz answered for him, "Uh How long have you been doing that?"
         "Since you left"
         "It's probably been fifty" Raditz began.
         "Probably isn't good enough. And what did I tell you about speaking when spoken to?"
         "Gomen nasai, Ouji-Sama." Raditz flushed, embarrassed.
         "Hn." Vegeta turned his attention back to Kakarrot, "You'll just have to do them all over again."
         "Again? But my arms are tired!" Kakarrot complained.
         "Make it a hundred, then! Do you still feel like talking back to me, you third-class idiot!?"
         Goku appeared to be contemplating this. He turned his guileless face up at the prince, "Is a hundred more than fifty?"

         *                          *                          *

         "I'm so glad you're better, Yamucha-Sama!" Pu'ar squeaked while flying around his head happily.
         "Me too." He smiled his best rakish smile and absently petted her velvety gray fur.
         "I must say, I'm impressed." The lady-doctor looked him over one final time before discharge, "I've never seen anyone heal this quickly. You're truly an impressive physical specimen, Mr. Desert-Bandit."
         "Thank you ma'am. Healthy living, and all, you know"
         "Of course. Well, it looks like you're all set to go." She flipped a page on his chart.
         He thrust a fist into the air, "Wahoo!" then, catching his bad manners he turned to the doctor, "Oops Sorry. I'm being rude again"
         She shook her head, "Not at all, my boy, you've got every right to be happy to get out of here." She smiled motherly, "Just try to take better care of yourself. I don't want to see you back here any time soon."
         "Yes, Ma'am!" he tightened the sash around his waist, mentally thanking Pu'ar for remembering to bring him some fresh clothes. "Well, sayonara!" He waved jauntily and made his way out of the hospital. Fresh air had never smelled so good, even if it was slightly tainted with car exhaust and a myriad of other city smells.
         He walked several blocks with Pu'ar resting on his shoulder, just savoring the feel of sunlight on his face. As distracted as he was, he still had the highly attuned senses of a martial artist, and was not taken unawares when he felt a tug on his belt where his money pouch was hung. His swift reflexes allowed him to apprehend the suspect. It was a small girl with shoulder-length black hair. He managed to grab onto her by the brightly colored scarf around her neck.
         He hauled her up, turning her to face him, and almost forgot what he was doing. She was a very pretty girl. Her eyes were wide with panic, showing white all around her icy-blue irises. He was thankful that his time with the hospital staff had habituated him to the presence of females. "What do you think you're doing?"
         "I don't know what you're talking about." The voice did not match the face. Where the culprit's expression was that of sheer panic, the voice was cool and dry and slightly cocky. It was also deep.
         "My money pouch."
         "What about it?"
         "I know you took it." Yamucha shook the smaller teenager, and was rewarded when his pouch fell out of the kid's possession onto the sidewalk. He glared accusingly.
         "I found it on the ground." The kid said, still sounding unperturbed.
         Yamucha opened his mouth to ask her if she thought he was born yesterday, but was stuck across the back. It was not hard enough to cause him any discomfort, but it was annoying nonetheless. He glared behind him at another young girl, even prettier than the one he was holding.
         "Leave my brother alone." She commanded coolly.
         "Brother!?" Yamucha looked anxiously from the blonde girl behind him, to the dark-haired wellboy? "Brother?" He asked again.
         "What, are you deaf?" The boy had molded his face into an impassive mask, "Look, I'm sorry about the pouch. Now are you going to do anything about it or just stand here all day?"
         Yamucha stared down at the boy. No one should be this calm when they're being suspended six inches off the ground.
         "I'll tell you what I'm gonna do!" Yamucha was getting seriously ticked off at this kid's attitude. He held him up higher, using his height advantage to its fullest extent, held the kid eye-to-eye with him. "I'm going to tell your parents! That's what I'm going to do! Do they have any idea what you're doing out here?"
         "You tell 'em, Yamucha-Sama!" Pu'ar floated about agitatedly.
         "We don't have parents." The boy replied matter-of-factly. "I guess you'll just have to pummel us yourself."
         "Don't tell him that!" The girl exclaimed, heatedly.
         "No parents?" Yamucha blinked a few times. "where do you live, then?"
         "You're standing in it." The boy replied, referring to the city's streets.
         "Wow. That must be tough." He set the kid down, "LookYou can keep the pouch. Just be careful who you take stuff from. Not everyone's as nice as I am."
         "Nice?" He asked suspiciously, "No one is nice. What do you want in return?" He and the girl already assumed a pose that appeared totally natural for them. He stood in front and she blended into his silhouette as though they were only one person.
         "Want?" He asked incredulously, "No offense kid, but if you're living on the streets it's not like you've got much to offer. I'm just going to let you have it. Besides, I can always steal more," He winked at the younger boy, and was surprised to see him blush in return, "Buy yourselves something to eat. Your sister looks hungry." He waved dismissively and continued on his way.
         He didn't even look back, but if he had, he would have seen the beginnings of something akin to hero worship on the young boy's face.

         *                          *                          *

         "Where's everybody else?" Bulma entered the mess hall that evening.
         "Hn." Was the only reply she got.
         She glared at the pointy-headed little geek who had the audacity to ignore her.
         "I asked you a question , Vegeta!" She loaded her tray down with food, "Oh, I get it, you must not have heard me!" she plopped her tray down across from him, then, taking a deep breath, she leaned toward him, "I said"
         "Enough! I heard you, woman!" He waved his hand in her general direction, "They're being punished." He didn't need to specify what that punishment was.
         "All three of them!?"
         "Yes. Now be quiet."
         "Huh. Yes, your majesty !" she said sarcastically.
         He gave her a dirty look around a mouthful of dinner. Why is it that whenever she addressed him with an appropriate title it was always with her infuriating sarcasm?
         "Stop talking." He didn't want to fight with her. Not just because she was a lowly earthling commoner and it was disgraceful for her to address royalty as she did, but because the argumentsaffected him. When he was exchanging words with her, it got his blood pumping in ways no other battle ever had. It was almost more stimulating than "kissing" her had been. And he really didn't want to engage in any more interactions with her that would gounsatisfied. He decided he was going to pay very close attention to his dinner.
         "You can't just order people around like that, you know! You may not have realized this, but I am not your servant!"
         Dammit. Was that woman deliberately trying to pick a fight with him? Didn't she realize how utterlystupid that was? "Hn."
         "What? Don't you have anything to say? That's because you know I'm right!" She picked up her glass to take a sip, but, unaccustomed or unaware of her newly-acquired strength, she shattered the glass sending shards of it into the soft flesh of her palm. She let out a small scream, "Ew! Ow!"
         "I said shut up!" He looked up from his meal in time to see her dripping blood onto the table. For a moment he was captivated by the alluring redness of it. "on'na no baka!" Grabbing a wad of what passed for napkins, he more or less threw them at her.
         "Fascinating!" she held the wound open, ignoring the napkins, "I can see inside my skin!"
         "Idiot!" He reached over the table and grabbed her wrist, forcefully placing a wad of absorbent paper on her palm.
         "HeyWhat are you?"
         He had come around to her side of the table and was pulling her by the wrist of her wounded hand. "You're getting blood all over my table." He led an amused Bulma to the Med lab.
         "You're not planning on sticking me in that thing for a little cut like this, are you?" She asked, pointing at the regen tank.
         "Don't be stupid." He pulled out a roll of bandages and some topical disinfectant. "Give me your hand."
         She did so. He pulled away the bloody napkin and sprayed her with the antiseptic. "Ow! That stings!"
         He ignored her and carefully taped up her hand so every speck of blood and open flesh was safely covered. When he was finished, he noticed a smear of red on his palm. It took every ounce of will power he possessed to resist tasting it.
         "Not bad." she looked over his handiwork, "If this evil warlord thing you've got going on ever falls through, you'd make a great nurse."
         He wasn't sure what a nurse was, but he figured it was safe to guess that she was insulting him.
         "Hn." He turned on his heel and retreated from the med lab. Away from the woman and her sweet-smelling blood. Raditz had warned him about the affect that blood would have on the Saiya-jin in a sexual situation, but, dammit, sitting across from someone at dinner was hardly conducive to such urges! He remembered something else Raditz had told him Something about When you're seventeen, everything makes you want to have sex.

         *                          *                          *

         Now that he was out of that antiseptic prison, Yamucha's next concern was buying another sword to replace the one that pip-squeak bent in half. Unfortunately, he'd have to wait a few days before the weapons dealer could accommodate his specifications. "It's worth it for a decent sword," he thought, "but I really wanted to start heading for Fry-Pan Mountain." He decided he might as well adjourn to his hide-out in the desert while he waited for his blade It would be good to be home, even if it was just for a while.
         " I'm starving do we have anything to eat at home besides cat food?" He glanced up at his airborne compatriot.
         "Sure do!" Pu'ar replied, "I made sure to get all of your favorites when I heard you were coming home!"
         "You're the best loyal servant a fierce desert bandit could have!"
         Pu'ar purred, contentedly.
        
  ;        *                          *                          *

         The way the kid smiled could only be described as smarmy. And Kame Sen'nin was very intimately acquainted with smarmy. "So you want to train under Muten Roshi, eh?"
         The novice monk bowed beatifically, "If the invincible old master would be kind enough to train me." He started rummaging through a collection of personal belongings, "I bring just a small token of my esteem." He'd heard that Muten Roshi was a little on the hentai side, he hoped he hadn't been misinformed.
         Kame Sen'nin eagerly took the stack of magazines from the boys hands, "Well, what have we here?" He started flipping through the first one on the stack, "Wahoo! You sure know how to treat an old man!"
         "Then You'll train me?"
         "Not so fast there, boyo. Training under Muten Roshi is an honor not so easily bestowed. In order to earn the right to be instructed in my particular style of martial arts it's going to take a little more than a stack o' dirty pictures."
         "I understand" The boy bowed again.
         "Nah, I want the real thing! If you can find me a girl that looks like this," He pointed to one of the magazines, "I'll train you, no problem!"
         "Of course! Sure!" The boy started running toward the small boat he'd taken to the island.
         "Hold on a minute!"
         He stopped, "Yes, Muten Roshi?"
         "It'll take forever for you to get anywhere in that thing and I'm not willing to wait that long for a hottie like that." He gestured toward the magazine. "Let's try this Baby Gamera! To me!" suddenly, a spinny-disk thing came from the sky and landed, sending out a small spray of sand. A head and four appendages popped out of the thing, which was apparently some kind of shell. "Take him. It'll be much quicker."
         "Whaaa?" The bald kid gaped.
         "You heard me. Oh, before you go. Do you have a name?"
         "Yes, Muten Roshi."
         Kame Sen'nin waited expectantly for several seconds. "What is it, then?"
         "Huh? Oh! Kuririn!" the kid bowed again.
         "Great. Now what are you waiting for? Get going!"
         After completing yet another sycophantic bow, the boy hopped onto the back of the strange creature's shell. "This'll be a cinch!" he thought to himself, "I just need to find the old man some girl and then I'll be trained in the secret techniques of Muten Roshi! Then the other guys at the monastery will think twice before trying to beat me up again!"
        
 &nbs p;       *                          *                          *

         Slowly, at least compared to Goku, Bulma became accustomed to what the Saiya-jin referred to as "normal" gravity. With her "training" complete and the engines now functioning at optimum capacity, she had little else to do but hang out in her room. Which was perfectly fine in Vegeta's opinion.
         The stress of having to face Furiza-Sama was turning the habitually-uptight boy into a veritable ball of tension. Not to mention, he hadn't really slept since Kakarrot managed to lull him to sleep. Having to deal with the added distraction that female presented might have been enough to drive him crazy.
         He knew she wasn't afraid of him, and that knowledge alone irked him. She had more arrogance than her power level allowed for. If Furiza-Sama saw how thisgirl was allowed to behave toward Vegeta free of repercussion he might think that she meant something to him. Which she didn't. But still, he had plans for her. Maybe he no longer wanted to use her death as Kakarrot's final ritual to embrace his heritage, but she still had other uses.
         Uses that entailed the twit still being alive. He smirked to himself, deciding that there was only one way to assure that the woman lived long enough to be valuable. He had to make her afraid of him.
         He headed in the general direction of her cell, intending to seek her out. He was so intently concentrating on his strategy for inducing her to fear him, that he almost didn't notice when she passed him in the hall. "Woman!" He snarled.
         She paused, "Huh?" before remembering that "woman" was most definitely not her name, and she was not required to answer to it, "Did you forget that I have a name again?"
         "How dare you pass by the Prince of the Saiya-jin without bowing!"
         "What?" She was so utterly dumfounded that it hadn't yet occurred to her to be angry.
         "And never speak to me with such disrespect ever again!"
         "Would you just cool it, already? Geeze! I think someone's spandex is on too tight!" She put her hands on her hips and faced him down challengingly.
         He didn't respond vocally, instead he placed a hand on her sternum and, with the barest flick of his wrist, he knocked he back into the wall behind her. Her head struck and her teeth clacked together from the force of the blow.
         "Ow! Just what do you think you're doing!?" She gingerly touched her scalp.
         "Teaching a stupid Earthling a lesson," he snarled.
         "Who do you think you're calling stupid!?"
         He smirked at her and crossed his arms.
         "Ugh! That's it!" She turned and started stalking off, "I don't have to stand here and take this!"
         Before she'd taken two steps, he'd used his inhuman speed to stand directly in her path.
         "What are you doing!?" She glared at him.
         "I didn't give you permission to leave!" He grabbed her by the arms and pushed her back into the wall.
         "I d-don't need your permission!" She struggled to retain her composure.
         "Are you afraid?" He sneered at her.
         "Are you insane!?" she countered.
         "You're feeling helpless, aren't you?" He tightened his grip enough to be painful, "And anger at your own helplessness. You're pathetic."
         "Ow! Let go of my arms, you lunatic!" She twisted about ineffectually.
         "I want you to fear me. I want you to hate me!" He sprayed spittle as he spoke.
         "Well, I want you to let me go, dammit!"
         He was almost shaking with frustration, he could have chosen anyone else from any of the hundreds of planets he'd occupied and they'd be cowering before him by now. Yet this idiot woman with her pathetic power level dared to stare him down and challenge him. She was refusing to acknowledge his superiority.
         "I've already told you, woman, it doesn't matter what you want."
         "You little jerk, lemme go!" She was fighting to keep the frantic edge out of her voice, since she knew that was the reaction he was seeking.
         He smiled chillingly at her, "Make me."
         Bulma's temper won the duel with her common sense and, in an innately female protective gesture, she brought her knee up with all the force her meager body possessed, hitting her intended target.
         He inhaled audibly, but it didn't have the effect she'd hoped for, "You're going to pay for that, woman!" He gave her a backhanded slap across the face, but not wanting to kill her at this point, he tempered his blow.
         Her head snapped to the side, but instead of cowing her, the physical pain only served to fuel her anger. She glared into his eyes once more, "What the hell is wrong with you, you weird pointy-haired little monkey-tailed freak!" she tried to jerk away from the hand that was still holding her in place, "Does it make you feel like a big tough-guy to pick on helpless girls? You could have killed me!"
         "That's the point." Dammit, what was wrong with her!? Why wasn't she afraid of him?
         "Jerk!" she spat.
         He growled and practically threw her away from him, mumbling, "This isn't working." He started to storm away.
         "What isn't working!?" She regained her balance and followed after him a few steps, "what the hell was that all about, anyway?"
         "Get away from me!"
         "I don't think so, Vegeta! I just got slapped in the face , I think I deserve an explanation at the very least!"
         "I was doing you a favor, idiot!"
         She paused in her tracks, "Come again!? You didn't just say what I thought you said! You were doing me a favor !?"
         "Yes!"
         "Where we are going, it would be in your best interest to be afraid of us. Me in particular."
         "What?"
         "On Furiza-Sama's ship your arrogance will not be tolerated."
         "Pot. Kettle. Black." She placed her hands on her hips.
         "What are you talking about!?" He turned to face her, "Let me put it this way, Your mechanical abilities are useful. If you anger someone on Furiza-Sama's ship, prompting him to kill you, you are no longer of any use to me."
         "You pulled this whole stunt to protect me?" Her hands were no longer placed on her hips. One hung limply at her side, while she pressed the knuckle of the other to her lips.
         "No!" He flushed, and refused to meet her eyes, "I told you, you're just useful!"
         She blushed, "That is so sweet!"
         "Shut up, woman! You don't know what you're talking about!" He turned to leave, "If you follow me again, I'll kill you myself!"

         *                          *                          *

         "What happened to all of my stuff !?" Yamucha grasped handfuls of his thick hair as he gaped in horror at his nearly-empty lair.
         "Well Hospital bills are expensive, Yamucha-Sama" Pu'ar started to explain.
         "But my stuff You know how long it took me to steal everything!"
         "How else was I supposed to pay for your treatment?"
         "You could have There's always I mean" Yamucha sat down where a chair used to be, hitting the bare floor in a most undignified manner. "I don't know. My stuff" He looked about forlornly, before sighing deeply, "I guess I couldn't have taken it with me anyway."
         "Taken it where?" Pu'ar floated about his head.
         "I didn't tell you? We're going to Fry-Pan Mountain."
         "Fry-Pan Mountain!?" she echoed, "But you know who lives there!"
         "Gyu Mao." he confirmed, "The Ox-Demon King. If there's anyone on Earth who can train me to be stronger than that little freak," he spat, "It's him."
         "But, Yamucha-Sama"
         "No "buts" Pu'ar, we're going." He sighed again, "The refrigerator is still here, right?" Pu'ar nodded, "well at least that's something. I'm still starving."

         *                          *                          *

         "But How come we can't take the big ship there?" Goku peered up at his brother.
         "I'd tell you, but your head would explode" He replied dismissively, "Now get in there." "There" was a small transport shuttle. They were as close to Furiza-Sama's ship as they could get without being affected by the massive vessel's gravitational pull, and would have to take a small two-room shuttle for the remainder of their journey. "Thankfully," thought Raditz, "one of those rooms is a bathroom."
         "How long is this little trip going to take, anyway?" Bulma crossed her arms and frowned at the tiny craft. With her luck, she'd get stuck sitting next to Nappa.
         "Couple of hours. Are you going to complain the whole way there?" Raditz looked at her sideways.
         "I do not complain!"
         Nappa guffawed at her.
         She glared up, gazing from one tall warrior to the other, "If I were either of you, I'd watch it! There's only one bathroom on that shuttle, ya know. I wonder what would happed if I swee swee'd at both of you!"
         "Geeze! I'm sorry!" Raditz absently rubbed the back of his neck, "It's not like we meant anything by it."
         "Sure, sure So anyway, what are we waiting for?"
         "'Geta-Sama ain't here yet!" Goku piped up.
         "Hn." She put a hand on her hip, "If he's going to order us to be here at this ungodly hour, the least he could do is show up on time !"
         "Are you criticizing me, on'na!?" Vegeta demanded as he strode into the docking bay.
         She gave him a sickeningly sweet smile, "Now, would I do that, Vegeta?"
         "Hn. Get in the craft. Now. Raditz, you're piloting." He tried to cross his arms, but having grown used to wearing armor without the imperial red cape attached at the shoulders, his fist became tangled in the cloth.
         "Hai, Ouji-Sama." He covered his heart and bent at the waist.
         "Don't bow, baka, just do it!" Vegeta shook free of the confining fabric.
         "Hai, Ouji-Sama." Raditz sighed mentally as he climbed into the transport. This was going to be one long trip.
         The vessel's schematics were extremely simple. Bulma giggled when she realized that, aside from having a bathroom and cushioned benches along two of the walls, the layout was almost identical to a cargo van. The pilot and co-pilot's chairs were at one end of the craft, and the door leading to the bathroom were at the other. She knew it was a bathroom because she'd listened to Raditz complain about Goku's little bladder problem for the past three days.
         "I said get in there, woman!" Vegeta growled at her.
         She was blocking the entrance but that was no reason for him to be rude! She glanced over her shoulder to tell him so, but was distracted by his haggard appearance. She hadn't seen much of him since that little incident several days ago, and it looked as though he hadn't slept at all since then. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his countenance was even paler than usual. His hair, though she wouldn't have thought it possible, looked even more disheveled than usual. He looked like hell. She told him so.
         "I don't have time for your insults." his response was a tad lackluster. He climbed in after her, followed by Nappa, who had to duck to get through the entrance.
         "I'm not trying to insult you," she made herself comfortable on one of the benches, "I'm just saying that you don't look so hot right now. Maybe you should take a nap or something."
         "A nap!? Do I look like a child!?"
         "No, but you sure act like one! Geeze, I'm trying to be nice here! If you're going to meet this big-cheese boss of yours you might wanna get some beauty rest."
         "Beauty rest!?"
         "Yes! Why do you keep repeating me!?" she sighed, "Fine don't listen to me! It's not like I don't know what I'm talking about, you know!"
         "Gageta-Sama, yer makin' her mad." Goku was standing on the co-pilot's chair backward. His little head just barely peeked over the edge of it.
         "Stay out of this, Kakarrot!"
         "I'm just sayin' Bulma-girl's scary when she's mad"
         "Kakarrot"Raditz said warningly as he readied the transport for departure. "I think you need to turn around and shut up."
         "But, 'nii-san"
         Without looking at him a second time, Raditz slapped the little moron in the back of the head.
         "Ow!" He clutched his skull, "Okay, okay I'm doin' it geeze." He sat back down almost petulantly.
         Vegeta realized that unless he wanted to squeeze in next to Nappa, he'd have to share the bench with Bulma. For some reason this vexed him. He sat as far away from her as physically possible, then, crossing his arms, he stared ahead intently at nothing.
         "Oh, no," Bulma thought, "not childish at all."
         He'd never realized how terribly comfortable these benches were. And how soothing the hum of the engines could be. He blinked several times to clear the fuzziness in his head. Dammit, he was not going to comply with that woman's order! His blinks became longer. Soon his eyes were closed more than they were open, and then they didn't open at all.
         Nappa stared in amazement, fully convinced that, even if she wasn't a witch, the Earthling had some strange, extraordinary powers.
         " 'Nii-San?" Goku looked over at Raditz.
         "No, we're not there yet. And the bathroom's right behind that door." He indicated the direction with his thumb.
         "Okay!" Goku hopped out of the co-pilot's chair and hurried to the back of the ship.
         Slowly, during the next hour or so, Vegeta's unconscious form started leaning, very subtly at first, but becoming more pronounced as time went by. He stopped, of course, when his temple came to rest on something solid, namely Bulma's shoulder. She wouldn't have minded, except his hair was well poking her. But, since he was so obviously exhausted, she tolerated having a spiky tuft of hair poking her in the forehead. And the cheek. And the chin.
         She had touched his hair before, but only when they were in a rathercompromising situation, so she hadn't really been paying attention to its texture. It was surprisingly soft. Well, not silky like hers was, but it wasn't nearly as coarse as she'd expected it to be. It wasn't wiry like Goku's either. She could honestly say that there was nothing on Earth that she could compare it to. Right now it was tickling her nose.
         She tried not to sneeze. Really. But there comes a time when no amount of self-control can quell a bodily function. So with a jerk, a vocal emission, and a spray of spittle, most of which landed on the hapless Nappa, she gave in.
         Vegeta, still mostly asleep, sat upright "What!?" He asked no one. In a haze of semi-consciousness he glared at Bulma. "What do you think you're doing!?"
         She sighed before responding sarcastically, "Undermining your authority and compromising your virtue. Don't even start, Vegeta. You leaned on me. I didn't touch you."
         "Oh." He yawned and resumed his original position, with his head resting on her shoulder. "Well don't do it again."
         It took all of her willpower to keep from giggling at the big-scary warlord who was sleeping on her.
         She met Nappa's gaze. He was staring at her with an expression that could only be described as flabbergasted.
         "Don't even start, Nappa." She said very quietly to the enormous fighter.
         "I wasn't gonna say anything" His deep voice seemed to shake the tiny vehicle.
         "And be quiet! You'll wake him up!" She sighed again. Honestly, how could these Saiya-jin be so inconsiderate to someone who so obviously needs sleep?
         "Sorry." He said quieter.
         She turned her attention back to Vegeta. She didn't want to spend the next couple of hours choking on his astonishingly vertical mane, so she reached up and smoothed it back some. Of course, it sprang back into its original position, so she tried again. It was still not cooperating with her efforts, so every time it would spring back, she'd smooth it again, not realizing that she was, in effect, petting him.
         He sighed in his sleep and seemed to relax even more. He tilted his head a little, rubbing her shoulder with his cheek.
         She kept stroking his hair, almost unconsciously as though she wasn't quite aware of what she was doing, like a mother would with her child. She smiled to herself, thinking about how irritated he'd be when he woke up.
         "How much longer till we get there, 'nii-san?" Goku was sitting cross-legged in the over-large chair, resting his hands in his lap.
         "Kakarrot" He sighed, irritated, "Couple of hours. Don't ask me again."
         "But, I'm bored."
         "No you aren't."
         Goku furrowed his brow, trying to see logic in that statement, "Yes I am," he replied.
         "No you aren't. As your older brother and your superior, I'm ordering you not to be bored."
         "But, Radiss, I know when I'm bored, and I'm bored now. It feels yucky."
         "And I'm ordering you to stop that."
         "Yer not makin' any sense, 'nii-san."
         "Then go to sleep or something." Raditz turned his gaze from the controls to give Goku an annoyed glance.
         "Not sleepy."
         "Well, I don't know what to tell you, Kakarrot. Just shut up about it." while not nearly as uptight as Vegeta, Raditz was also anxious about their destination.
         "Nappa." Bulma whispered across the narrow confines of the transport, "Tell them to pipe down!"
         He nodded, and, not even wondering why he obeyed the earthling anymore, leaned toward the front of the vehicle, "Quit makin' a ruckus. If you wake Ouji-Sama up, I'm going to bust your heads in."
         "'Geta-Sama's takin' a nap?"
         "Yes. No. He's uh Shut up, Kakarrot." Nappa sat back down.
         Goku looked back over at Raditz, and in a noticeably quieter voice, " 'nii-san?"
         "What is it now?"
         "I'm hungry."
         "We'll eat later. If you don't shut up, you're gonna be in big trouble."
         Goku sighed and leaned back in the chair.
         The next hour or so passed in relative silence, punctuated only by sighs, coughs, and in Vegeta's case, the occasional snore.
         "What are you doing, woman!? Get your hands off me!" Vegeta was awake.
         She rolled her eyes, "We've been through this already, Vegeta. You fell asleep. I guess you must have thought I'd make a good pillow."
         He pressed himself as far away from her as he could while still sitting on the bench. He knew that somehow, this was her fault.
         She made a show of wiping off a patch of drool that had trickled onto the combat suit above her collar bone.
         He glared at her, flushing with mortification. Without saying a word, he stood up and pushed into the "cockpit" of the vessel. Grabbing poor Goku by the nap of the neck, he lifted him out of his chair and flung him into the back of the transport. He slumped into the now-vacant seat.
         Goku picked sat up slowly, pressing the palm of his hand to a sore spot on his scalp and squinting one eye closed. "Ow! Ya coulda asked, Gageta-Sama"
         "Oh, hush, Goku." Bulma patted the seat next to her, "Sit down and behave."
         "But I didn't do nothin'!" He looked indignantly up at her as he climbed onto the proffered seat.
         As they drew nearer and nearer to their destination, Bulma noticed that all of the Saiya-jin, sans the oblivious Goku, were growing increasingly agitated.
         The monolith across from her seemed to have every muscle in his body clenched, and as cool as it was in the transport, he had broken out in a sweat. She could not examine Raditz or Vegeta as closely, but she could hear Raditz vehemently cursing the machinery under his breath, even when it was behaving and Vegeta was tapping his heel against the floorboard. The tension was so thick it made the air coming out of the CO2 scrubbers seem thick and almost unbreathable. Bulma had no idea what to expect from this new ship, but she did know that whatever was on it was bad enough to scare these three. And that thought made her feel a chill that was totally unrelated to the environmental settings.
         Raditz half turned in his seat, "We're almost there."
         "Yay!" Goku kicked his legs out happily.
         "Shut up. I want you to listen to me, Kakarrot."
         "I'm listenin'."
         "Remember when I told you to act like me?"
         "Uh No."
         "The first time we went to the training room," He prompted, "You acted just like me. I want you to do it again the whole time we're on the ship, got it?"
         "Uh-huh."
         "That means no speaking, unless you're asked a direct question. Understand?"
         "Yes"
         Raditz shuddered. He was really worried that Kakarrot would do something stupid, like ask if Furiza was a boy or a girl or Zarbon or "One more thing. Everyone on the ship They're all boys. Don't even think about asking anyone about that."
         "No talkin' and they're all boys. Gotcha." He grinned.
         Raditz sighed, hoping that Kakarrot's stupidity wouldn't be the death of all of them.
         "Brace yourself for landing."
         "Huh?" Goku asked his brother a second before both he and Bulma were nearly jostled out of their respective seats.
         Raditz sighed, "Well, we're here."

         *                          *                          *

         Yamucha strode through town, his confidence more than doubled by the solid weight of a good sword. He only half-listened as his feline familiar tried to talk him out of paying the Ox-Demon King a visit. His silent reverie    was interrupted, not by Pu'ar's frantic falsetto, but by a voice that was not only naggingly familiar, but almost whisper-quiet.
         "Let her go." As calm as ever, it was the boy who'd tried to rob him. This time, his comment was directed toward several older, much larger boys. They were all half-hidden in a walkway between two buildings that Yamucha was passing.
         Yamucha marveled, not only at the odd coincidence that would bring him to this exact spot at this exact time, but also by his own stunningly keen hearing that enabled him to even perceive the other boy's soft voice.
         "And what if I don' wanna?" grinned one of his three antagonists.
         "I didn't ask you what you wanted." While physically much weaker than any of them, the hoodlums still were unnerved by his calm, glacial stare.
         "Yeah? Well why don't you ask your sis what she wants. Maybe she wants to stay with us." asked the one holding the small, blonde girl.
         She was no less impressive. While being suspended in the crude embrace of the largest of them, she somehow managed to look slightly bored.
         "Hey!" Yamucha interrupted their exchange, "Leave those kids alone!"
         "Yeah!" Pu'ar added, "Leave 'em alone!"
         "Stay outta this, stupid!" snarled a boy about his own age and stature.
         "Ha! You must not know who you're talking to!" He drew his sword, regretting the fact that he didn't have a more favorable background than an alley, but sure that nonetheless, he managed to look striking.
         "Think you're tough, Kung-fu man?" The largest sneered, tossing the girl aside and pulling out a switchblade, "I got one of them, too."
         Yamucha smirked, "Mine's bigger."
         The young man didn't reply, but rushed toward Yamucha. He mentally rolled his eyes at his attacker's clumsiness and lack of skill and easily sidestepped his assault. As he stumbled forward, Yamucha sent a back-kick into his skull, incapacitating him. The now-prone boy's compatriots came at him simultaneously, their maladroit fists pulled back to their shoulders. Faster than most human eyes could follow, he effortlessly blocked their blows, and connecting the heel of his free hand with one boy's chin, sent him reeling back. After making sure that he was out of the fight for good, he turned his full attention to the last of them.
         The dark haired boy had crouched next to his fallen sister, checking her for injuries, but now his attention was now consumed by the sword-wielding bandit's graceful form. He'd never seen anyone move with such lethal precision before. It was mesmerizing for reasons the dark-haired youth didn't want to contemplate.
         With another impossibly fast strike, Yamucha kicked his last opponent into the wall of one of the buildings. Before he could regain his bearings, Yamucha had his shiny, new sword trained on the other boy's skuzzy throat.
         "Yay! Yamucha-Sama!" Pu'ar clapped.
         "Geeze, man! Never mind! We were only playin'I swear. We didn't mean anything."
         "Never," Yamucha said calmly at first, but gaining emphasis and volume as he continued, "Never hurt another kid or you'll suffer the wrath of Yamucha the Desert Bandit!!!"
         "I promise, man, just don't kill me!"
         "If I find out you broke your word, you'll wish I killed you." In one swift motion, Yamucha took the blade away from his neck, and slammed the hilt into his skull. His opponent slumped to the ground in a puddle of his own urine.
         "You can let go of me, Oniisan. I'm fine." The girl glanced sideways up at her brother as she slowly got to her knees.
         "Huh?" He glanced back, as if just noticing her, "Oh." He loosened his grip from her upper arm.
         Yamucha resheathed his blade, and turned to the two deceptively delicate-looking siblings. "You guys should really watch out. What'd you try to take from them?" he approached them as they got to their feet.
         Neither of them answered him. The girl was too busy getting her balance back, and for some odd reason, the boy was just staring. The girl faltered, and Yamucha caught her under the arms, trying to help her back to her feet. Her fragile body stiffened.
         "Let me go!" She struck out at him, "don't touch me!" She jerked away from him, and her brother placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
         "Oneesan." He mumbled.
         In an utterly uncharacteristic gesture, she turned to face him, and buried her head in his shoulder, trying to quell the silent tears that were currently soaking his orange scarf. She clutched at his shirt with trembling hands, struggling to regain her composure.
         They stood soundlessly for several seconds, the boy gently stroking his sister's hair. Even the airborne Pu'ar was for once, mercifully silent. Gradually her trembling subsided. She sniffled once, and wiped her face dry. With a calming breath, she turned to face their benefactor.
         Yamucha raised his eyebrows, surprised. The only evidence that she had been crying was her reddened eyes, and the stubborn droplets that still clung to her pale lashes.
         "I didn't mean to hit you." She said dully. It was the closest she'd come to an apology or a thank-you.
         "Uh.." Yamucha flushed a bit, and placed a hand on the back of his head in embarrassment, "That's okay You were just scared, right?"
         "Hn." She replied.
         "Yeah Uh So what'd those guys want anyway?" Yamucha glanced from the girl to the boy. He was staring again. Yamucha's cheeks flushed and he reminded himself that the pretty youth was a boy . A boy! "A really pretty boy." He mentally shook himself, "what am I thinking!?" He reminded himself that his dreams of marriage did not include boys, even pretty ones.
         "Same thing anyone wants." The boy had torn his gaze from the long-haired warrior, and was now casting a protective glace toward his sister. "Anything they can get."
        
          *                          *                          *

         "Take a look, Muten Roshi Her face is kinda little-girly, but just look at the rest of her!" The short, shiny-headed child gestured eagerly.
         "Wowee!" His eyes nearly bugged out from behind his sunglasses as he hurried out of the small pink house to get a closer look at the dark-haired girl. "Helooooo, there, sweetie! What's your name!?"
         The girl smiled. Her expression was that of innocence to the point of vapidness. "I'm Launch! Who're you?"
         "I am the venerable Old Master, Muten Roshi!" He turned to Kuririn again, "where'd you find her, boy?"
         "Oh Some bad guys dressed as cops were trying to kidnap her So I charged to her rescue!"
         The girl giggled, "He fell off of the spinning thing and landed on them."
         "Close enough." The boy murmured. "So, will you train me now, Muten Roshi?"
         "Yeah, sure But do me a favor and make yourself scarce." To the girl he said, "Would you care to accompany on a walk around my island?"
         "Um sure. But won't it be a short walk?"

         *                          *                          *

         Cold. That's the first thing that struck Bulma when she saw the interior of that Furiza-guy's ship. It wasn't so much the temperature, though it was uncomfortably cool, but the design of the ship itself. She got the distinct impression that the place would feel cold if it was ninety degrees.
         Vegeta's warning had been unnecessary. There was no need for him to tell her to act scared since she was already terrified. Mutely, she fell into step with Nappa and Vegeta in front of her, and Goku and Raditz behind her. Somehow their presence comforted her. They may be ruthless, planet destroying killers, too (well, except for Goku), but at least they were familiar ruthless, planet destroying killers. And they, at-least, looked human, unlike many of the otherbeings she'd seen so far.
         She shuddered. She wanted to ask Vegeta where they were going, but there were too many other spandex-clad soldiers around, and she didn't want to seem un-prisoner-like, so she held her tongue.
         Her unasked question was answered when the two warriors paused in front of one of the ubiquitous silver doors, and punched the appropriate button to open it.
         She followed them inside, trailed by the Saiya-jin siblings.
         Once the door slid shut, Goku tugged softly on Raditz's tail, " Radiss?" He whispered, "Radiss, can I talk yet?"
         "I guess so, but only in here. And I thought I told you not to pull my tail!?"
         "Gomen" Goku rubbed his nose, "I don't like it here. When can we leave?"
         "As soon as Furiza-Sama lets us."
         Bulma figured that if Goku could talk, then so could she, "Where are we?" It looked like they were in some kind of living room, though it was unlike any she'd ever seen. The floors were bare steel, and what furniture there was, was sterile and utilitarian.
         "This is where we stay when we're here." Raditz gestured to some doors, "Three rooms." Then to another door, "Bathroom." he directed that last comment at Goku.
         "Thanks, 'nii-San!" Goku scuttled into the tiny room.
         "I swear that kid pisses more than anyone I've ever met." Raditz mumbled.
         No one replied. Nappa sat in one of the chairs, but regretted it the second the bare flesh of his legs touched the frigid steel. Vegeta stalked off to his bedchamber, though he looked less like he was crossing his arms and more like he was hugging himself.
         Bulma looked up at Raditz, "What now?"
         He shrugged, "We wait for Furiza-Sama to summon us."
         She sighed and looked at one of the bare metallic chairs, trying to decide if it was worth it to sit down or not.
         Vegeta came back into the common room, he was carrying an armored tank top, similar to the one he was wearing, but it bore no insignia on the breast, and, in addition to shoulder pads, it also had hip and groin protection. He thrust it at Bulma, "Put this on."
         "What? Why?" She blinked at the deceptively flimsy-looking plastic. She held it up by the pointy shoulder pads, "No way, Vegeta! In case you haven't noticed, the big-shoulder look is out!"
         "Woman" His voice held a strange brittle edge to it, "Do it."
         She opened her mouth to argue some more but decided to comply after noticing how his typical haughty expression was tainted with a hint ofdesperation, "Fine! I guess if I'm the only one on this boat with any fashion sense, no one's going to notice"
         She held it up again, "How do I?" she rotated it, "there's no seam"
         "It goes over your head. It stretches like the suit." he wandered back into his room again.
         She blinked again, surprised at the lack of rancor. Vegeta was definitely not acting like himself. Even his voice sounded different. She pulled the armor over her head, and moved experimentally. It was not nearly as uncomfortable as it looked.


         *                          *                          *

         "How very disappointing, Vegeta." Furiza eyed him coolly from his throne, "You were gone all this time and this is all you have to show for yourself?" He got up to examine the kneeling Kakarrot more closely, "Hardly worth the effort. What were you thinking?" Flanking either side of Furiza-Sama, Dodoria and Zarbon smirked at the unfortunate youth.
         Vegeta did not reply, he just bowed his head lower.
         He moved to stand in front of another kneeling figure, "This one." Furiza gestured toward the blue-haired girl with his tail, "is not a Saiya-jin."
         "No, Furiza-Sama." He responded. His voice held none of his usual forcefulness, instead he sounded near to self-effacing.
         Furiza narrowed his eyes, considering all possible explanations for the girl's presence, before finally deciding on one. "And why, my little princeling, have you brought her before me?"
         "She's a scientist, Furiza-Sama."
         "We have hundreds of scientists! Why did you bring this one?" His gratingly androgynous voice demanded angrily.
         "She is a friend of Kakarrot's. We punish her when he misbehaves." he lied, since they'd never had to resort to this.
         This seemed to placate him a bit, "Really? Perhaps you have learned something from me after all, Vegeta." He leaned close and nearly whispered, "you know how ingenious I can be when it comes topunishments."
         Vegeta could feel his cold breath on the back of his neck, and he fought not to shudder. "Hai, Furiza-Sama."
         Furiza glared at the girl again. He wasn't fooled in the least by his pet's little explanation. He was going to teach the little monkey exactly what the cost of lying to Furiza was. And then maybe he'd kill the woman for daring to touch what belonged to him! He smiled pleasantly and stood upright again. "You're dismissed, for now. You might as well make yourselvescomfortable. You're next assignment won't be ready for" He looked back the green-haired warrior on his left, "Would you say four days, Zarbon-San?"
         He bowed gracefully, "At least that long, Furiza-Sama."
         "Yes. You may leave now." He waited for them to get close to the door, "Oh, dear me, how could I forget?" he chuckled, "Vegeta, I have some matters that will need to be discussed with you."
         Vegeta bowed again and walked back toward the center of the room.
         "It's of a rather private nature and I really don't think this is the time or the place. I'll summon you later."
         "Later, Furiza-Sama?"
         "I do believe that's what I said. Now leave."
         "Hai, Furiza-Sama."
         He joined the rest of his party in the hallway, and without a word to or a glance at any of them, he lead the way back to their shared quarters.
         Once they were safely inside, Bulma let out a disgusted groan, "What was that thing!?" she hugged herself, "I've never seen anything like that it was horrible!"
         "Be quiet." Vegeta murmured, lackluster.
         "And what's up with you , anyway?" She put a hand to his forehead, "Are you sick or something? You're acting all funny."
         He growled and jerked away from her touch, "Yamaro! Who are you to scrutinize my behavior, Earthling?"
         "Yeah, yeah You're the prince of all Saiya-majigsI know but, seriously, what's wrong?"
         "Saiya-majigs!?" He twitched.
         "or whatever you're called." She shrugged.
         "Woman, are you deliberately provoking me!?" He yelled. At least he didn't sound lifeless anymore.
         "Provoking you!? I'm trying to find out what's wrong with you, Vegeta ! I'm trying to help !"
         "I don't need your 'help!' Leave me alone!"
         "Fine!" She stomped off to one of the unoccupied bedrooms.
         "Fine!" He yelled at her retreating back. "Stupid woman." he muttered under his breath, crossing his arms.
         "Is it dinner time yet?" Goku tugged on the band of cloth tied around his brother's thigh.
         He checked the chronometer, "Almost."
         Goku sighed and flopped onto his back in the middle of the floor, "But I'm hungry now , 'nii-san."
         "Well, you don't always get what you want, Kakarrot. Now grow up and stop whining."
         "But"
         Raditz didn't feel like bending over to smack him, so he used his tail to hit him in the head.
         "Ow. I shoulda known you'd do that." He rubbed his scalp with both hands, but didn't sit up.
         Raditz rolled his eyes and went to sit down on one of the cold metal seats.

         *                          *                          *

         Summoned. It sounded so innocuous. A simple summons. It shouldn't be a major concern, but it was. That's because it was Furiza-Sama giving the summons, and when it came to Furiza, nothing was ever simple or innocuous. Among his subordinates, Vegeta was able to convince himself that he truly was invincible, that there was nothing in the universe that could possibly pose a threat to Saiya-jin no Ouji, but merely being in the proximity of Furiza's ship was enough to purge him of this delusion. As he listened to the echo of his boots hitting the cool, hard floor in the empty corridor, he felt truly small. He was once again that pathetic four-year-old child forced into subjugation by an over-evolved worm. He'd sworn to himself that he would one day be free, after all, he was the one destined to achieve the legendary status of Super-Saiya-jin. And when he did, he would make Furiza pay for every indignity, every tear that had been forced out of him for that bastard's amusement, and especially, for the loss of his heritage. He was a prince, dammit, but what good is it to be the prince of a dead race?

         Once he was outside of the reception room, he took a deep breath, carefully molding his face into an expression of polite indifference before requesting entrance.
         "You kept me waiting," Furiza accused, almost petulantly.
         Vegeta came to kneel before the throne, "Sumimasen, Furiza-Sama. I came as soon as I received your summon."
         "That isn't what I'm talking about, Vegeta. You stayed gone for a very long time. One might conclude that you do notlike it here." Furiza tapped the tips of his fingers together, delicately.
         "I am a loyal servant, Furiza-Sama." Vegeta ignored the almost-physical pain these words caused him.
         "No I don't think so, Vegeta. You stayed gone on purpose! Do I look stupid to you because I assure you that I am not!" He got up and stood over Vegeta's kneeling form. "But don't worry I've come up with an especially superb punishment, if I do say so myself." He laughed, almost conspiratorially, as though Vegeta should be enjoying this talk as much as he was, "I'm going to make you beg."
         Vegeta showed no outward reaction. He didn't really think that Furiza was capable of making him beg, after all, he'd taken every painful, degrading punishment Furiza's sick mind could come up with, and he hadn't so much as whimpered since he was a small child. Still, Furiza never made this kind of a promise if he wasn't very confident in his ability to keep it.
         "Ouji-chan, I know what you're thinking How utterly predictable of you!" He trailed an icy finger around the shell of Vegeta's ear. "I believe you might havemisunderstood me. This time you're going to beg me," he leaned closer and lowered his voice, "not to stop."
         Confusion raced behind Vegeta's carefully neutral façade. What Furiza was proposing was ludicrous. What could possibly compel Vegeta to not only beg but beg, not for cessation, but continuation? Unless Furiza-Sama was going to order him to beg Not that it would be anything new Furiza ordered him to say a multitude of things that were not true.
         "You don't have any idea what I'm talking about, do you?" He laughed once, "Maybe I was wrong about the female Either way, this is part of your unique charm. How you can be so vicious and yet, so naïve at the same time.
         Before Vegeta even had time to wonder what that woman had to do with anything, he was hauled to his feet by Furiza's snake-like tail wrapped around his neck.
         "I really don't think you'll be needing this for a while." Furiza chuckled as he sliced the front of Vegeta's imperial armor with one black claw.
         Vegeta was expecting this, Furiza always removed his armor before punishing him. It was perfectly logical to do so, because, obviously, it required less effort to inflict more damage. But this time there was something about the way he was doing it that was off. It wasn't because he was doing it slowly, because Furiza liked to make his victims anticipate what he was going to do to them. "Slowly" was the wrong word to describe it anyway. "Lingeringly" was more appropriate.
         Once he was stripped of his armor, Vegeta braced himself for the first blow. It never came. Instead, the icy tyrant trailed his hand over the young prince's chest appreciatively. "Superb," he commented. He allowed his touch to migrate, caressing the boy's side and coming to rest on his hip.
         Vegeta face remained impassive, and he had only tensed slightly. It was enough for Furiza to know that he was, indeed, affecting the boy. He only had to ensure that he was achieving the reaction he sought.
         Intense revulsion drowned out the discomfort of being suspended by his throat and Vegeta fought not to shudder. He tried concentrating on a crack in the wall behind Furiza, staring at that and ignoring everything else. But when Furiza's hand dipped lower he couldn't ignore what was being done to him. To his eternal self-disgust, his traitorous adolescent body began to respond. Repulsion and shame warred with lust, each emotion equally intense and stark in its severity. Bile rose in his throat even as blood rushed to his groin. For the first time in years, Vegeta tried to struggle.
         Furiza laughed, "There's no need for that, my little prince, as you already know, fighting me is useless. Besides, as I can clearly see you don't really want to get away." He said referring to the physical evidence of Vegeta's response.
         "Bastard!" Vegeta thought frantically, "Bastard! Bastard! Bastard!"
         Furiza touched his minion's lower lip with one finger, stroking it gently before flicking his claw across it, leaving a trail of blood. "Oh, dear, I seem to have left a mess. Allow me toclean it up." He leaned closer and raked his corpse-cold tongue across the younger man's feverish lips. Furiza smiled, self-satisfied, "Yes, that's much better"
         In abject disgust, Vegeta doubled his struggles, even though he knew it was futile.
         "None of that." Furiza ordered, cupping the prince's groin roughly.
         A barely audible moan of ambiguous nature escaped the prince's lips. It was mostly pain and disgust but part of it. No! He refused to acknowledge anything else! He would kill Furiza for this. And his death would be horrible.
         "Don't hurt 'Geta-Sama!" a totally unexpected interruption took Furiza off-guard.
         "Pardon me? Oh It's the little Earth-monkey What do you want?"
         Goku bit his lip. He didn't want to disobey his brother's orders But he couldn't just leave and let Furiza hurt 'Geta-Sama His concern for his prince won, "Onegai Furiza-Sama Let 'Geta-Sama go"
         "Kakarrot!" Vegeta choked out with great difficulty, "Go away!" What was that idiot doing here anyway? Couldn't Raditz control the child better than this? And now the low-class baka was witnessing his shame!
         Goku winced, "Gomen, 'Geta-Sama. I can't go away."
         "Are you aware of what you're asking, child?"
         "Huh? Uh yeah."
         "I don't think that you are. You see, in order for me to let him go, someone will have to take his place. Are you willing to take his place?"
         "Um H-hai, Furiza-Sama."
         Furiza smirked, "Are you hoping to gain favor by coming to your prince's rescue? He's already ordered you to leave us, so I don't think your little ploy will work."
         Goku didn't understand what Furiza meant, " II jus' don't want you to hurt 'Geta-Sama."
         "Then you must be willing to take his place. Are you?"
         The frightened child swallowed once before nodding, "Ya-huh"
         "Do you have any idea what you'd be getting yourself into?"
         " 'Geta-Sama does bad things an' he's real strong But you're badder an' stronger And you think hurting people is more fun than 'Geta-Sama does."
         "Very astute of you, but you still didn't answer my question."
         "No I dunno what I'm getting into." He looked at his boots and shifted his weight.
         "Then just leave and go about your business. I don't like being interrupted."
         He met Furiza's gaze determinedly, "I didn't say I wouldn't do it, Furiza-Sama! There's a lot of things I dunno about, that don't mean that you don't help someone jus' 'cause you don't understand something"
         Furiza looked at the child with a disgusted expression. "Are you telling me that you would allow me to punish you in Vegeta's place, even though he forbid you to do so and will likely punish you again for insubordination? You're stupid, even for a Saiya-jin."
         "I don't care! Just let him go, please?"
         "Why?"
         "Huh?"
         "Why do want me to let him go? Are you just that eager to be punished? Do you like pain?"
         The creature's questions were confusing Goku and he was getting frustrated, "I I just I can't" He frowned searching for words, "Watchin' someone else get hurt feels worse than me getting hurt. And if there's anything I can do to stop it I gotta do it."
         Furiza returned his attention to Vegeta, "You're going to try to turn that into a warrior?" he asked amusedly, "I'd be doing you a favor by killing him now, don't you agree, Vegeta?"
         Vegeta grunted noncommittally.
         Goku wiped his nose with his sleeve, but didn't say anything else.
         "Perhaps I'll just punish both of you" He trailed off as yet another uninvited underling trotted into the reception hall. "What is it now!?" He demanded. "I distinctly remember giving the order that I was not to be disturbed!"
         "Sumimasen, Furiza-Sama!" He bowed low to the ground, "There is an emergency on Citrus-Sei!"
         "Continue." He crossed his arms and faced the soldier, still suspending Vegeta with his tail.
         "The occupants of the planet they are much more powerful than anticipated. We might lose the entire sector if we don't send in reinforcements."
         When he became irritated, Furiza's tail twitched. Now was no exception, and the hapless Vegeta was thrown from side to side, "Fine! Send in reinforcements!" He dropped Vegeta and turned to address him, "You'll go. Taking over planets is one thing even a monkey can't muck up!"
         Vegeta struggled to his hands and knees, "H-hai, Furiza-Sama."
         Furiza, having no more patience to appropriately punish Vegeta, stormed out of the reception hall to retire in his private chambers. The underling, sensing that he'd angered his master, made himself scarce.
         When they were alone in the cavernous hall, Goku approached Vegeta. He was hunched over, still on his knees with his arms wrapped tightly around his torso. His breathing was harsh and ragged, and several times he stifled his gag reflex, forcing himself to swallow whatever was trying to work its way up from his stomach. As tightly as he hugged himself, he couldn't seem to warm the places Furiza had touched. He lost the battle of wills with his own body and with several hacking coughs, emptied the contents of his stomach onto Furiza's immaculate floor.
         "'Geta-Sama?" Goku placed a hand on his shoulder, "are you okay?"
         He jerked away from the child's touch as though he'd been burned, "Don't touch me!"
         "Sorry I just"
         He was interrupted as Vegeta released the death grip he had on his own waist long enough for him to backhand Kakarrot with enough force to knock him into a wall several yards away.
         Goku stood up, almost unperturbed, and wiping a trail of blood from the corner of his mouth, he returned to Vegeta's side, but did not speak again.
         "Never. Never interfere again, Kakarrot! I should kill you for what you've done!" His voice was thick and brittle and he still averted his face from the child's view, staring intently at the puddle of his own vomit.
         "'Geta-Sama's cryin'." Goku thought to himself, "An' he doesn't want me to know" aloud he said, "Gomen Nasai, Ouji-Sama." Even though he knew that Vegeta wasn't looking at him, he placed a hand over his heart and bowed in supplication to the prince, imitating what he'd seen the older Saiya-jin do, simply because he thought it might make him feel better if he could see him. "If you'd let me, Ouji-Sama Can I please help you?"
         Vegeta met the child's open, innocent gaze and he felt decades older than his own seventeen years. "Help me with what, baka?"
         "Cleanin' up." Goku figured that Vegeta was the kind of person who wouldn't want Furiza to know that he threw up. In his own simplistic reasoning, he recognized Vegeta's extreme pride and dignity, and realized that leaving physical evidence of his distress was an affront to both.
         "Hn. If you must." He straightened up a bit.
         Goku gave him another deferential bow, and as he did so, Vegeta took this opportunity to wipe his moist cheeks dry.
         Goku bit his lip and looked for something to use as a rag, then spying Vegeta's discarded imperial armor, he retrieved it, "Gageta-Sama?"
         "What is it, now, brat?" Vegeta had leaned back slightly, bracing his weight on one hand, still trying to calm himself, and doing an admirable job of salvaging his composure.
         "Is it okay if I use this?" He held up the cloak attached to the ruined armor.
         "That suit is trash anyway. I don't care."
         Goku nodded solemnly and set to cleaning the mess on the floor. He was much to innocent to understand fully the circumstances behind Vegeta's current state. All he was capable of recognizing was that the prince was hurting, and even though it wasn't a physical pain, he still felt compelled to help in any way he could. Or more specifically, in any way Vegeta would allow.
         Vegeta stared at him. Why was he doing this? For that matter, why had he interfered at all? He knew that Kakarrot was too stupid to see this as an opportunity for personal gain, so why? Why was the prince's welfare so important to him?
         Goku crouched on the floor, concentrating intently on his chore. He was set on restoring the floor to its previous spotless state. After several moments, he stood up and bowed again , "I'm finished, Gageta-Sama."
         Vegeta's only response was a jerk of the head that could barely pass as a nod. In one fluid movement, he got to his feet, and stalked out of the hall, past the still-bowing Kakarrot.