Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ FROM BAD TO WORSE... ❯ Mended Bridges ( Chapter 14 )

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

Last Chapter: A moment of promising intimacy is shattered as Vegeta copes with
delusions that almost have him kill Bulma by mistake. After she leaves his side
to look for help, Dr. Briefs arrives.
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FROM BAD TO WORSE...
Chapter Fourteen

Any words of possible greeting were lost on Dr. Briefs as he stared at the
lone Saiyan standing in the doorway, blocking his way. The older man managed one
stunned blink before considering the person before him in astonishment.

Vegeta stared back without emotion, his face unnaturally pale except for a
flush of color above his high cheekbones. There were bruised half-moons beneath
his eyes and his nose looked swollen. He appeared to be holding onto the door
more for support then to bar the other man's way. Wearing only a pair of loose
pants his weight loss was plainly evident, his muscle tone having shrunk during
the time of inactivity. If not for that unruly mane of erect hair, Bulma's
father would have mistaken him for someone else.

"Can...can I come in?" he attempted in a small voice, hardly able to
believe what he was seeing.

Moving away from the doorway without comment, the Saiyan backed up to
permit him entrance. His eyes slid to an area to Dr. Briefs right and lingered
there as he appeared to consider something.

Entering the room and closing the door after himself, Dr. Briefs cast a
quick glance around looking for damage in the walls and furniture or body parts
on the floor. Everything was as neat as a pin. "...Is Bulma here?"

Roused out of his thoughts, Vegeta looked at him again and frowned in
confusion as if it were the first time he had seen him. He cleared the distance
between them and suddenly poked the smaller man on the shoulder. "Are you real?"

Rubbing his arm Dr. Briefs took a closer look at the Saiyan. "Vegeta? Are
you all right?"

Disregarding the concern, Vegeta gestured to an area to his left and
continued saying; "-Because he says HE'S real but I can't touch him. He won't
shut up, though."

Sensing something was very wrong with this situation the older man asked
in a quiet voice, "Who won't shut up?"

"Nappa," came the answer before Vegeta turned and addressed empty air in a
harsh voice; "Screw you! Why don't you at least cover that thing up? It's
disgusting! Go pull on a codpiece, you fat fuck!"

Dr. Briefs was backing up towards the breakfast bar on the far side of the
room trying not to be too obvious about it. Vegeta turned back to him and
crossed his arms. "Why are you here?"

Swallowing, the old man admitted, "I came to see my daughter. Where is
Bulma?"

"...Bulma..." Vegeta closed his eyes and cocked his head to one side. He
was silent for a very long time before he opened them again. "She's somewhere in
the building. She'll be back soon, she's never gone long."

"Have you...been here with her for awhile?" Dr. Briefs attempted.

"I don't think so."

"...Don't you know?"

He shook his head in confusion. "I don't even know what day it is. I don't
really care."

Slowly sitting down into the chesterfield, the Capsule Corp. president
asked, "You wouldn't mind if I stayed right here and waited for Bulma to arrive,
would you? I won't be any bother. I promise."

Vegeta appeared to consider him for a moment and then passed a sly smirk
off to his left. "I'm going back to bed. Nappa said that he'll keep an eye on
you."

Dr. Briefs fearfully looked around himself in confusion. "Th-that's fine,
Vegeta. You have yourself a-a good sleep."

Vegeta's slight smile broadened. "Don't bend over," he cautioned and left
to return to the bedroom, closing the door after him.

Sitting as still as a statue, the old man tried to submerge a shiver of
apprehension as he regarded the space to his left. Very slowly he touched the
cushion beside him feeling nothing wondering if some of the Saiyan's obvious
madness was catching. True to his word he stayed in his spot and didn't move a
muscle.

>>>>>
Dr. Briefs had endured a rough couple of weeks himself since the day that
Yamcha had felt the need to unburden himself of his damaging information.

Normally content to just sit back and let the events of his life pass by
outside of his laboratory, his paternal instincts had finally come to the fore
when the young fighter had told him what his own daughter had not; Vegeta had
not been some alien ally they had just met by chance on Namek and had been
invited back to Capsule Corp. because he had no where else to go. When the
scientist had realized that the Saiyan had been one of the original pair who had
invaded the Earth at such a terrible loss of life he had been thunder-struck. To
compound matters his own beautiful little girl even appeared to be attracted to
the monster!

The confrontation in the living room had gone very well. Dr. Briefs had
expected the egotistical Saiyan to move out after their terse words. He had, in
fact been counting on it. What he hadn't planned on was Bulma's overreaction to
the act; actually quitting her job and moving out of the building in protest. He
had drastically underestimated what he had figured to be a heady crush on the
admittedly unique alien to actually be something far more serious. Yamcha's
warning had come too late and Vegeta's hold on her had all ready sunk in its
claws.

Still, he wasn't afforded the luxury of dwelling on the issue for very
long as repercussions of his canceling the communication chip project began to
reverberate. He found himself struggling to cope with an uncooperative staff,
perplexed shareholders and the companies who had placed the initial bids and
were now becoming vicious. In the back of his mind he could only hope that the
odd pair had been separated before anything more intimate and damaging could
have developed hopefully giving Bulma the opportunity to see the situation from
a new perspective and finally discover that her father had been right all along.

When even his considerably younger wife began giving him the cold
shoulder, his resolve began to flag at last. She wasn't the brightest bulb on
the tree but her insight into people was uncanny. There had been a soft spot in
her heart for Vegeta since the moment he had arrived. When she told him that he
had made a mistake, seven days after Vegeta had left and Bulma had moved out, he
finally listened.

Three days after that, Yamcha appeared again with Gokou in tow. Cornering
the elderly man in his office, Yamcha told him, "Dr. Briefs, I'm sorry about
this whole mess. I feel responsible."

"What's done is done," he said in a forlorn voice, absently shuffling
papers on top of desk. At some unseen cue, the fighter left the office leaving
Gokou behind. "There's nothing you can add to what I know. Yamcha told me
everything," he told Bulma's closest friend. The harshness had gone out of his
voice at the words and he was only relating clear fact.

"Oh!" Gokou said in disappointment. That cheerful expression never left
his kindly face as he added, "So you all ready know that when Vegeta was a
little kid Frieza demanded custody of him in exchange for his father's life and
homeworld...Which that villain ended up killing anyway as it turned out. I don't
remember telling Yamcha about any of that but I guess he-"

"Hold on," Dr. Briefs cut in. "What did you say?"

Gokou scratched the back of his head as his eternally youthful face beamed
in true innocence. "He DIDN'T tell you, did he? Wow! That's like ripping the
first chapter out of a book and trying to make sense of the rest!" he said
cheerfully.

"Are you saying that Yamcha lied?" the elderly scientist rasped out.

"No, but he wasn't even on Namek. He had no right to tell you stuff he got
second hand. Heck, I didn't get there until the end. Y'see Vegeta came back to
visit me when I was fighting Frieza and close to losing," he tapped his temple
for emphasis. "He was in my mind. He told me all sorts of stuff and what he
didn't say I could see for myself. I doubt that even he knows how much I saw."

His interest piqued, Dr. Briefs sat back in his chair and gave the younger
man his full attention. "Go on," he encouraged.

"Well, it's like I said; Vegeta had to leave his world in exchange for
Frieza not blowing it up. He had to do all sorts of twisted stuff but nothing he
did was ever enough. Frieza killed his father and destroyed his homeworld and
any other Saiyan he came across. Nappa and Radditz were beneath his notice but
Vegeta was like a-a pet, and that was just how he got treated; like an abused
pet."

Gokou paused for breath and to sort out his thoughts as he paced the large
room, trying to remember what he had glimpsed into the older Saiyan's mind
during that brief contact. "The only thing that kept Vegeta going was the
thought of getting stronger than Frieza and one day defeating him. All of that
hatred just festered inside of him until it was all that remained. I got to know
him on Namek, Dr. Briefs. Yamcha didn't. I'm not saying that Vegeta isn't evil;
he's mean as heck and he's got one sick sense of humor, but he's not so far gone
that he doesn't know right from wrong. Bulma had been telling me how much he had
calmed down since he came to Capsule Corp. but now..." he shrugged his wide
shoulders sadly.

"I was scared that he would kill us all," Dr. Briefs confessed, unable to
even raise his eyes so great was his shame.

"Vegeta could have done that the first day he came back. He's second only
to me in sheer power and I wasn't even on Earth at the time. There was nothing
in his way to stop him," Gokou rationalized. "He didn't because he didn't want
to."

"Why?"

Gokou only looked at him.

"...Bulma?" the scientist whispered.

The young fighter gave one curt nod. "She's very important to Vegeta, Dr.
Briefs. I wish I could tell you just how much but I've sworn to a promise. Just
believe me when I say that it's important that they become friends." He wanted
to add, 'and something more' but he didn't want to give the old man a coronary.

"I guess then, the next logical step would be to track him down-"

"Piccolo is looking for Vegeta as we speak," Gokou told him.

Considering him fondly, the older man said, "I can see that you've put a
lot of thought into this."

"I like my friends to be happy," the young fighter replied with his
characteristic honesty. "At the moment, nobody is."

There was some small talk after that but nothing that Dr. Briefs dwelled
on for long; swept up in problems of his own. With the seasoned experience of a
thousand business meetings he knew that a compromise was going to have to be
made with his beloved daughter in order to placate her. It was no longer a
matter of who was right and who was wrong anymore, he accepted his defeat
stoically. All he wanted was for things to be back to the way that they were.

Gokou had told him that it was Piccolo's intention to have Vegeta come
back to Capsule Corp. and the next day he waited expectantly for any sign.
Eventually someone did show up, but it wasn't the Saiyan.

Piccolo waited outside of the building for Dr. Briefs, his cape a
smoldering ruin and his clothes covered in dirt and ash. The forbidding
expression on his viridian features spoke volumes to the elderly human who had
to summon all of his reserves of bravery just for an approach. "Did-did you find
Vegeta?" he managed to ask.

Looming over him, the Namek gave him one appraising glare and then handed
him something from the pocket of his loose trousers. It was the Dragonball
radar. Dr. Briefs almost dropped it in his shock and was totally unprepared when
the huge alien spoke up in his deep baritone and told him of a Saiyan who would
rather wish to be dead again then have to put up with a planet that despised
him. There was no accusing tone to his brisk words, only clear fact as he
related his confrontation with the depressed Saiyan and the subsequent
conversation that had followed. Piccolo chose not to add the diversion at Kami's
Lookout. He had no facts of what had transpired there and, unlike Yamcha, did
not broadcast an event unless he was able to verify its authenticity.

Taking advantage of Dr. Briefs stunned silence, Piccolo chose to add, "If
he has not come back here yet, you can assume the worst. I no longer have a
sense of him anymore."

Dr. Briefs didn't like the sound of that one little bit. In a weak voice
he asked, "What could that mean?"

Piccolo chose not to answer. Speculation was not one of his skills. The
tension etched into his gruff features was answer enough.

With Gokou's gift of instant transmission, Dr. Briefs assembled all of the
fighters that made up Earth's Special Forces. Considering who the person was
that the elderly scientist wanted to find, it took some persuasion for most of
the men to agree to his request; Particularly Tien and his companion Chiaotzu
who had suffered terribly when the Saiyan's had first invaded. They were finally
all assembled in the compound late the next morning and Gokou had spoken up that
he had sensed Vegeta's ki somewhere in the Capital's outer limits before it
disappeared again. They all agreed to patrol different sectors of the sprawling
city, intent to locate the elusive Saiyan but not approach him. If one of them
found him, they were to tell Piccolo who would meet him on his own.

The huge Namek had not gone into any of the details with the other Z
Fighters as he had with Dr. Briefs. It was not a matter of confidentiality or
respect that was the motivation here; It was just the simple truth that Piccolo
still did not like the Earth defenders. He had battled them for years, intent on
their destruction and just because he had let himself be 'tamed' by Gokou's son
did not mean that he considered the weaker humans his trusted allies. He had
found some common ground in his earlier confrontation with Vegeta and wanted to
be the one to meet with him again if he was found. What he would say, he had no
idea. In the back of his mind, Kami had gone silent on the issue and would offer
no words of support. Piccolo didn't know what to make of that lapse but he
resolved to deal with that problem when it arose.

As it turned out, all of their efforts appeared to be fruitless. After
several days there wasn't even a hint of Vegeta's presence in the Western
Capital and the group gradually extended their range outside of the city limits
and into the neighboring counties. Dr. Briefs was prepared to fear the worst
when he passed through the living room where his wife was talking on the
vidphone with someone and just as he was about to go upstairs, he heard her say
in a hushed voice, "Give my best to Vegeta."

Followed by his daughter's voice, "I will."

He should have known.

>>>>>
And so here he was, sitting in the living room of an affluent suite that
was paid for by Capsule Corp. where his daughter was harboring the very alien he
had been trying to find. It was all rather ironic, in an odd sort of way.
Somehow, Vegeta had found Bulma after his confrontation with the large Namek.
Ignorant of the true reasons for the Saiyan's sickly appearance, Dr. Briefs
could only conclude that it looked as if Piccolo had cleaned his clock. Why else
would Vegeta have simply stepped aside and let him enter without argument?

It was that curious poke on the shoulder and the inquiry if he was real
that made the elderly scientist wonder if something else was amiss. He had been
dreading coming to the suite for the confrontation to come and was actually
relieved that the dreaded face-to-face with the Saiyan turned out to be the
least of his problems.

Forty minutes later there was the sound of muffled talking outside of the
door and the sound of a key-card being slid into the lock. As it opened he could
hear his daughters voice, "-didn't want to leave him alone. I hope he's alright
but I just had to try and find- !!DAD!!" She stopped dead in her tracks.

"Bulma, I had to see you-"

"Vegeta?" she entered the room and looked around frantically. "VEGETA?!"

"He's in the bedroom," Dr. Briefs offered.

Sparing him one suspicious glance, she left the living room without
another word and disappeared down the corridor. Behind her, another man entered
the suite and closed the door. He and Bulma's father locked eyes for a moment
before he extended his hand. "Dr. Briefs, hello. I'm Phillip Reznik, a physician
employed by the Hammorski Plaza."

He took the proffered hand and shook it hesitantly. "Is my daughter
alright?" he asked in confusion and concern.

"Ms. Briefs is fine. However I can't say the same for her companion."

Before he could question that comment, Bulma appeared at the hallway
entrance. "Dr. Reznik, please hurry."

"Excuse me," the man excused himself and disappeared with her into the
bedroom without any words that could ease Dr. Briefs confusion and rising
apprehension. After a considerable time, he steeled himself and went down the
hallway and stood outside of the closed door, his ears straining to catch
snippets of muffled conversation.

"-don't need that. Get away from me," came Vegeta's voice in a quarrelsome
tone.

The Doctor's deep voice assured him. "It'll help to relax you."

"I don't need help relaxing. All I do is sleep as it is and- WOULD
SOMEBODY TELL NAPPA TO STOP LAUGHING!!"

"Vegeta, please..." It sounded as if Bulma was crying. At the plaintive
note in his daughters voice, Dr. Briefs had to submerge the instinct to rush in
and comfort her.

Dr. Reznik said quickly, "I'm sorry but it's for the best-"

"-OUCH! You sonovabitch! I'm gonna Big Bang your ass for that! I'm gonna
shove a Gallic Gun right up you- your- I'm- I..."

There was a long moment of silence before Bulma hesitantly spoke up. "How
long will he be out?"

"It was a powerful antipsychotic. Probably for the rest of the day. His
fever has spiked to 117F, if we don't lower it soon it could mean-" His low
voice was lost to the sound of Bulma's soft weeping. With great effort, Dr.
Briefs forced himself to return to the living room and wait for them. He sat on
the couch with his head in his hands feeling helpless, miserable and very, very
guilty. What could he possibly say to her that could make up for this terrible
situation they were all in?

An unknown time later, the physician left the suite passing Dr. Briefs a
curt nod as he left. When Bulma stepped into the living room, her father rose
slowly, facing her and the pair regarded one another through an invisible wall
of tension and unspoken words. When he extended his arms in invitation that wall
shattered and Bulma rushed into his embrace without hesitation and he held her
like she was a young child again, crying against his shoulder as he told her in
a hoarse voice how sorry he was. And he meant it with every fiber of his being.
He had over-reacted because he loved her and that paternal protectiveness had
nearly destroyed them all. It would never happen again.

They sat together on the couch, almost whispering to one another as Bulma
told him what she had been doing for the last two weeks and how Vegeta had found
her two days ago, leaving out the sordid business of Dorothy Pereaux. Feeling
the over-powering urge to share everything with his stressed child, Dr. Briefs
confided his conversation with Piccolo. He didn't want to add to her problems
but he felt she deserved to know what the Saiyan had been up to in his absence
and why he had fallen to such a sorry state. If anything, instead of horrified
Bulma appeared relieved by the news. It helped to fill in some gaps that she
knew Vegeta would never confide to her on his own.

"I have the Radar locked in the safe-"

She was shaking her head, "He won't be looking for the Dragonballs
anymore, dad. He told me that he wants to live. It's just that he's having
hallucinations of his cohorts and enemies that are interfering with his
judgment."

Dr. Briefs was nodding slowly. He had gotten a taste of the Saiyan's
instability when he had first arrived. "What's wrong with him, Bulma?"

"It's a Saiyan condition brought about by not eating. I don't know the
full extent of it but he's delusional, in pain and...powerless."

His bushy eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Is there a cure?"

"He needs rest and nourishment but what he needs most is for his fever to
go down. Dr. Reznik gave him a shot of haloperidol to help with the delusions
he's suffering but..." Her voice threatened to break and she visibly composed
herself before she continued, "He's really sick, dad."

"Bulma, come back to Capsule Corp.-"

She opened her mouth to begin a fevered debate and he quickly added, "You
AND Vegeta. Please come back home. We can put him in the infirmary where he'll
get around the clock care."

Bulma looked in the direction of the hallway where the bedroom lied, her
face lost in thought as she considered the offer. Finally, she shook her head.
"No. We're staying here."

"I said I was sorry, I don't know what more I can say to make it-"

"This isn't about you, dad. At least not anymore. I want this time alone
with Vegeta and the Hammorski is the most neutral territory we could find. We're
safe here and we're unbothered. It's what we both need right now."

That steel was back in her voice and the elder man knew an argument would
only create more friction. "Do you know how long you're going to stay?"

"Until Vegeta is ready to leave. Not before," came the answer.

Dr. Briefs considered his only child for one long, evaluating moment and
got reluctantly to his feet. "Your mother and I will be home waiting for you
until you're ready," he said in a quiet tone. His face softened with a small
smile as he added, "We'll be waiting for you both."

Wordlessly, Bulma hugged him again. "Thank you, daddy," she whispered into
his shoulder. "I love you, daughter," he said in a hoarse voice and she returned
the words with true meaning and without any malice. The worst was over, now the
healing could begin.

They parted and he affectionately kissed her forehead and went to the
door. Before he left the suite he turned back to her with his mouth open but the
look of resolve was back on her face and the words died in his throat before he
could voice them. He had been about to caution her to be careful and came to the
brutal honesty that he had never felt such protectiveness towards her before
when she had been gallivanting around the countryside with Gokou and the others
and could really have used his concern then. It was hypocritical for him to
establish himself as a father figure now when she needed it over a decade
before. He had failed her with his indifference and eccentricity and his over-
compensation to Vegeta's presence had been a complete disaster for all parties
involved.

"Tell Vegeta I'm truly very sorry."

"I'll try," Bulma said, but her tone, like her manner suggested that such
an offering would be absolutely worthless from the Saiyan's perspective. Vegeta
would never trust him again and no amount of words was ever going to change
that. Her father had made a very lethal enemy that day in the living room of
Capsule Corp. "Make sure that you call off Gokou and the others from continuing
their search party. Vegeta thought they were hunting him down to capture him."

Dr. Briefs eyes widened behind his glasses. "I just wanted to find him for
you to give you some piece of mind."

"How could he have known that?" she accused bitterly.

He watched as she assumed a protective stance and he knew he didn't dare
argue with her and risk damaging the bridge they had started to mend on this
day. "Please call me immediately if there's anything that you need, Bulma," he
chose to say instead. "I mean that, anything at all."

"I'll keep in touch, dad," she said but offered no more and he took his
leave and closed the door.

>>>>>
The rest of the week was an interlaced blur of pills, meals and nightmares
for the ailing Saiyan. He had no clear recollection of any specific event during
those days, just a familiar female presence that appeared to always be there,
offering food or medicine or just comforting him with her presence when he awoke
from the dreams where Nappa or Radditz were taunting him with his weakness. Each
time the woman was there with something cool to place on his heated brow,
soothing him with softly voiced words until the impressions of the dream faded
and he could fall asleep again. There had never been any female presence he
could recall that had ever looked after him with such efficient attendance. Any
other person may have called out for a mother but Vegeta was ignorant of such
maternal care and could only silently relent to the gentleness that the
benevolent presence offered. At times he mistook the woman as a dark-haired
amazon and tried to draw away from her until that image passed and he caught
sight of that earlier vision of the sea-foam haired beauty with the halo above
her head. The concept of protective angels was lost on the alien but he
considered himself fortunate nonetheless for her presence. Once, he asked her
for her name and when he heard it he wrapped himself into like a shield of armor
and carried it with him down into his dreams. When the taunting in the darkness
began he enfolded himself within that name and declared to the mocking figures
surrounding him: 'You can't hurt me anymore. I'm protected by someone far more
powerful that you. Her name is-'

"-Bulma," he whispered in his sleep. Sitting beside him, she looked up
from the book she had been reading and betrayed a slightly flattered smile. She
gently touched his face and watched as he responded to the caress as he had that
long ago day in the drafting department, leaning his face against her fingers.
His flesh no longer felt so hot to her touch and she allowed herself to feel the
first glimmers of hope that his battered system was finally beginning to
rebound. She retrieved a digital thermometer lying on the night table and placed
the probe in his left ear, counting slowly to twenty before she removed it.
Staring at the read-out she smiled in relief. 113F.

"You're going to be all right," she told him and kissed him fondly on the
cheek and just as she was drawing away his eyes opened and immediately focused
on her. "Welcome back, Vegeta," she greeted with a pleasant smile.

He blinked at her in surprise. "Did I go somewhere?"

"You tell me," she said, rearranging the pillows behind him as he
struggled to sit up. "You've been lost to a fever for close to five days."

He made a fist of his right hand and felt the responsive flex of muscles
ripple along his arm. It appeared as if his strength was finally returning.
Examining his fingers he noticed that the trembling had ceased. He made a small
ki ball of blue energy and played it skillfully along the back of his knuckles
before he dissipated it. A small smile flashed across his face.

"What's the last thing that you remember?" she asked him.

His dark brows furrowed in concentration as he fought past half-ghosts of
figures and places that were part dream and partly memories. "We had breakfast,"
he said at last, nodding to himself. "After that we-" His eyes widened and he
cast a startled glance at her, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment.

"We kissed," she finished for him, watching his discomfort with amusement.
"And we made out a little, nothing more happened."

"You laughed at me," he accused.

"Vegeta, you ate a condom." She had to cover her mouth as the mere memory
caused the giggles to resurface and she visibly struggled to keep them down. He
was looking at her in growing irritation, his hands spread in that 'So?' gesture
and she explained, "I gave it to you place over your erection before we had sex-
"

"-Is THAT what the damned thing was for?" he blurted out. "How was I
supposed to know that?!"

She lost her struggle with her humor and burst out laughing. Helplessly
she fell back into the bed and tried to muffle her shrieks of amusement into the
blankets and she would almost succeed until she would look up at him sitting
beside her with a disapproving scowl on his face and his arms crossed and would
lose it again. Vegeta didn't know why he bothered putting up with this bullshit
and got up and went to the bathroom, deliberately slamming the door on her
shrill giggles.

When her laughing fit had subsided, Bulma laid back in the bed in an
exhausted heap, smiling up at the ceiling as the last of her tension eased away.
Aside from snatches of naps she had managed to grab between the Saiyan's meals
and prescribed regimen of medicines there had been very little in the way of
actual sleep for her and she was astonished to find how very tired she truly
was. She could hear water running in the bathroom and that sound was calming,
assuring, and she allowed it to lull her into a peaceful doze.

It would be several hours later before she would pull out of her exhausted
slumber and look around the room, noting how dark the surroundings had gotten.
When she glanced at her watch she was astonished to see that it was early
evening and was equally surprised to find Vegeta's side of the bed empty.

"Vegeta?" She went into the living room and turned on a few lamps in case
the strange Saiyan was lurking in a dark corner somewhere or perhaps out on the
balcony. He was nowhere to be seen. She returned to the bedroom and noticed that
the bathroom door was still closed. She walked over to it and cautiously rapped
one knuckle on its surface. "Vegeta? Is everything all right in there?" Her ears
were straining for any hint of a response but everything was eerily quiet on the
other side.

Swallowing, she gripped the doorknob with a sweaty hand and turned it, not
sure what to make of the fact that the door was unlocked. When she entered, she
found the small room like a dark sauna and reached in beside the archway for the
light switch. Blinking as the immaculate room was bathed in light her eyes fell
on the corner bathtub that was full to the brim in steaming water-

-And saw the hint of a spike of hair that was barely visible above the
still surface.

"!!OHMIGOD!!" Bulma shrieked. She sprinted across the room and grabbed a
handful of that wet hair and pulled as hard as she could. The water exploded in
reaction, spilling everywhere and before she realized it, she was pulled in the
tub and lying across Vegeta's lap. The Saiyan was blinking at her, pulling dark
hair out of his eyes and trying to come to grips with what had just happened.

Bulma pushed herself away from him and sat up in the water, her soaked
clothes hanging off of her as she regarded the stunned Saiyan. Her shock quickly
turned to anger. "You idiot! I thought that you had drowned!"

He rubbed his head with a grimace and she was surprised at the way his
dark brown hair lied in loose tangles around his shoulders when it was wet. "You
damn near pulled my scalp loose," he grumbled, border-lined between anger and
amusement. The water had made Bulma's light blue shirt transparent and he could
make out her nipples quite clearly.

Following his eyes, she looked down and quickly folded her arms across her
chest as she began to climb out of the tub and look for a towel. "What the hell
were you doing under the water anyway?" she asked peevishly, looking around the
bathroom. The floor was soaked with suds and water and she didn't look forward
to calling for maid service to clean up the mess. She looked back to him for an
answer.

He shrugged. "I was meditating."

"In the water?"

"The sensation is similar to a Regeneration Tank. I can only hold my
breath for a half-hour at a time but the effect is...calming," he admitted to
her, watching as she toweled herself dry while still in her wet clothes.

"I thought that you had-had-" She couldn't bring herself to say the words
out loud.

"Those days are over. We will not speak of them again," he said brusquely.

Bulma smiled and the last remnants of tension drained from her small form
at what he had told her. He was many things but he was also a man of his word.
She no longer had to worry about him in that respect any longer. "I'm going to
call up room service to clean up this mess. Are you hungry?"

His look of exasperation at the innocuous question was answer enough and
she squished out of the room in her wet socks and went to the phone to begin the
first of calls to the front desk. Vegeta lounged in the bathtub for awhile
longer as he listened to the muted sounds of Bulma's voice in the next room.
When the woman wasn't using those strident pitches she had quite a melodious
tone to her speech that was actually quite pleasing to the ear. Cocking his
head, he concentrated on her words and couldn't understand why he wasn't annoyed
at her presence. The worst of the V'Nhar had finally passed and he could recover
on his own now that the fever had broken. He no longer needed her or the
comforts that her wealth offered. But...lounging back in the heated water he
discovered just how much he had missed the trappings of physical luxury in his
two weeks in the wild. He was a prince and meant for grander things then hunting
for a meal or bathing in a river. This style of opulence suited him and he would
be an idiot to forsake it so quickly.

"Vegeta, how do you want your steaks?" Bulma called from the bedroom.

"Bloody and still kicking!" he shouted back, grinning as she haltingly
tried to relate that information to the front desk in more acceptable phrasing.
"And tell the servant woman to send up some more drying cloths at once!"

With a barely audible growl, Bulma kicked the door to the bathroom closed
so that she could continue talking without interruption. With a smile he sank
back into the depths of the water, closing his eyes as the warmth enfolded him,
muting his senses and allowing him to concentrate on his thoughts. In the back
of his mind, Kami was there reminding him, 'You care for this woman.'

For the first time, he dared to admit to himself;

Yes. Yes, I believe I do.


--------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------
NEXT CHAPTER TO BE POSTED SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 10, 2001. If you would like to be
on the mailing list to receive notification of when new chapters of this story
are posted, please e-mail your request to: darke_angelus@hotmail.com
--------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------
Chapter Fifteen: The last of any lingering threat gone at last, Bulma and Vegeta
begin the semblance of a 'normal' relationship. Yep! This time, folks, you can
pucker up for real. :)