Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ FROM BAD TO WORSE... ❯ On The Run ( Chapter 10 )

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

Last Chapter: Piccolo took Vegeta to see the Great Elder Kami who offered the
Saiyan some stunning revelations into his destiny. At the end Vegeta caught a
glimpse of himself as a Super-Saiyan and learned he was going to die in the
future from an unknown act. He left the Lookout for parts unknown.
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FROM BAD TO WORSE...
Chapter Ten

Flying around in aimless circles, Vegeta tried desperately to come to
terms with everything he had learned in the last hour. He was existing on pure
adrenaline now, the rest of his resources stretched thin over the events of the
last two weeks. He was exhausted from lack of sleep, weak from hunger, aching
from his confrontation with Piccolo and, perhaps worst of all, his self-assured
continence was shaken to the core of its foundations. And it had all started
with two little words-

"You're fired," Dr. Briefs had told him in a harsh voice twelve days ago.
They had to be the most unexpected, hurtful words that the bewildered Saiyan
could ever have expected to be the victim of receiving. Their true import was as
alien a concept as he was but the message the old man conveyed was loud and
clear; He had over-stayed his welcome.

Without comment (he had been rendered utterly speechless by then) Vegeta
returned to his quarters, changed and encapsulated his meager belongings. He
chose to exit by the bedroom window rather than face any more of the look of
disgust on the elder Briefs face or the cringing fear of his woman. He kept
telling himself that he had not fled the premises out of shame; that emotion was
a human frailty. What he had done under Frieza's command had been dictated by a
responsive call in his blood and bones ruled by generations of selective
breeding among a race of warriors. He could no more make excuses for his
behavior than a human could for breathing. Carnage was his legacy, bloodletting
his skill. Battle was all that he lived for because it was all that he knew how
to do.

Quite by chance he had caught glimpses of other possibilities during his
short time at Capsule Corp. The most staggering realization was his skill at a
job he absolutely loathed but appeared fairly competent in doing. He had been
unprepared for the almost orgiastic response he had gotten for his schematics of
the communications chip; privately pleased it was so well received but bothered
by it as well. It dismayed him that he could crank out the designs of alien
technology like a photocopier but the reality was that he really had very little
comprehension for what he was actually putting to paper. Vegeta knew he would
never be able to build anything from what he expertly drew because he was unable
to breech that Saiyan intolerance of technology that evolution had yet to
correct. And now never would.

Even more perplexing was his attraction to the human woman, Bulma. He had
never spent any length of time in a civilian environment before, unused to any
period of inactivity. It slowly dawned on him that such lapses of calmness
allowed for concepts he had never considered, visible only on worlds he had
personally razed. Relationships. Intimacy. Family. These were values that Earth
appeared to treasure and ones that the young Briefs woman made clear she was
willing to offer. To him.

It hadn't been until he had been huddled over a fire outside of the
Western Capital city-limits did he begin to comprehend the import of such odd
concepts. That was when the full impact of his loneliness began to prey on his
battered self-esteem. The open, caring face of Bulma and the comfort she wanted
to share was about the only thing he permitted himself to think about. Very
suddenly, he wanted her very much.

At sometime around midnight he left his self-imposed spot of exile and
returned to the headquarters building. He landed on the balcony of Bulma's
quarters, finding the glass doors locked. He peered into the darkened bedroom
with his keen sight and reached out with his mind in search of her vague ki. She
wasn't anywhere he could see or sense her. Waiting for several hours he felt no
hint of her presence, unable to fathom the disarming worry that had settled in
the pit of his stomach.

He dismissed the nagging sensation as simple hunger and jumped to the
ground, slipping inside the downstairs level of the building. At one point he
had to use his super speed to avoid the security motion detectors and floated
along the corridors so he would not trip the weight sensors built into the
hallway floors. They were all child's play to detect and avoid even though his
mind wasn't fully on the task.

He found Bulma's office unlocked when he reached it, which was a surprise
in itself. Entering cautiously he let a portion of himself search outwards,
carefully strumming the air-currents of the room. She had been here but it had
been many hours ago. The lingering ki was faint at best but he could still
detect a hint of tears to her fading presence. And anger. So much anger even he
was surprised.

She's gone. That rogue thought implanted itself in his mind and he could
not deny it. She's no longer here. She left Capsule Corp. to go-to go...
somewhere. He bowed his head in the darkness of the room, shaking his head in
dismay. There was no one he could turn to ask where she had gone. He had no
friends and soon, word would spread of what had happened here earlier.
Condemnation he could tolerate with ease but the gloating humor the earth
fighters would have at his expense was intolerable. They were Yamcha's allies,
not his and, like the Briefs', they would take the young fighter's side without
hesitation.

Breathing in the ethereal scent of Bulma's presence, Vegeta debated
stealing Capsule 3 again and returning to space. There was only one problem;
Where could he possibly go? Frieza's remaining bases were tearing themselves
apart as soldiers battled for a scrap of self-imposed authority. There would be
worlds taking advantage of the confusion and retaliating against the last
strongholds of Frieza's forces. There was only civil war waiting for him if he
returned to that chaos and he would find himself the main target of that
aggression by all sides involved. He was absolutely loathed by soldiers and
worlds alike and it was highly likely that there was a lingering bounty on his
head erected by King Cold himself before his death. He no longer had Frieza's
intimidating shadow to hide behind anymore. He knew he wouldn't last a day in
that frenzied environment if he dared to ever return. Like it or not, he was
stuck on Earth.

Then he saw it, sitting placidly on a dusty shelf behind her desk. It was
propped up beside a framed photo of Bulma posing with her friends. She was
sitting on Gokou's shoulders giving the peace sign while Oolong was underneath
trying to catch a glimpse of her panties. Yamcha had a possessive arm entwined
around her waist. Everyone looked like they were having a very fine time indeed.
Vegeta ignored all of that nonsense, concentrating solely on that circular
object as he crossed the room. He had only seen the device once, clutched in
Gohan's small hand on Namek but he recognized it immediately.

The Dragonball radar.

He picked it up and studied it curiously. An idea started squirming
through his troubled thoughts to get to the forefront of his mind, suggesting a
possible way to resolve this situation to everyone's satisfaction.

Batteries are probably dead with my damn luck, he brooded and depressed
the switch at the top in resignation. To his surprise the green dial immediately
lit up. A blinking yellow arrow was pointing north by northwest. Staring at the
readout in confusion, Vegeta knew that it would take some time for him to puzzle
out how the radar worked. He shut it off and tucked it into his coat pocket in
preparation to leave Capsule Corp. for what was going to be his final time.

Now, close to two weeks later the thought of the Dragonballs was the
furthest thing from his mind. Plaguing his thoughts were Kami's ominous words
and that striking image of him as a Super-Saiyan. He couldn't seem to shake it.

He ended up dropping out of the sky into an unknown city, generating a
degree of attention as he landed in the middle of a busy commercial area. The
pedestrian traffic in this late afternoon was chiefly shoppers and tourists who
liked to rubberneck at the best of times. Scanning the contrasting storefront
signs he purposely ignored the people who had stopped and were pointing at him
and talking. Many of the signs he read were complete gibberish to him: Weird
Willies Wares, The House That Beef Built, The Electronicator. He was about to
give up on this madhouse when he saw the word he was looking for.

Hotel.

Several people were following after him as he walked along the sidewalk.
He cast one cautioning backward glance at them and then entered the building.

The young man behind the front desk looked up in his direction and
immediately straightened his spine, his expression wary. Approaching him was a
short fellow with an unruly upsweep of dark hair wearing clothes that were
ripped and filthy and splattered with what looked like blood. The man's face was
bruised and flushed with emotion, most likely anger if his wild-eyed look was
any indication.

He's gotta be on drugs, the desk clerk thought uneasily as Vegeta came up
in front of him. Nobody normal looks like that!

"I want a room," Vegeta demanded.

"Yessir," the clerk said quickly. "Single or double?"

"Whatever."

"Any floor preference?"

"No."

"Do you mind a view of the-"

"What's with all of the fucking questions?!" Vegeta yelled into his face.
"I just want a goddamned room with a bed and a shower! How much trouble is
that?"

"N-no trouble, sir," the younger man squeaked. He went to the nearby
computer and typed in a few characters with trembling fingers. "Room 203 on the
second floor is available, sir."

"Fine," Vegeta sighed, the anger leaving him as quickly as it had come. He
desperately needed to get some sleep so he could gain a fresh perspective on
recent events. After that would be a major clean up job followed by a humongous
meal but sleep was paramount. He was practically swaying on his feet.

"...er, that'll be one hundred and fifty zeni, sir," the clerk informed
him, audibly swallowing.

Nodding wearily, Vegeta reached to his back pocket where he kept his
wallet. Dr. Briefs had given him a generous cash advance when he had presented
the original draft of the communications chip to his department. If he watched
his budget carefully he might be able to make it last for two months. Hopefully
that would be time enough for him to figure out just what the hell he was going
to do to survive on this world.

His hand lingered at his back pocket and the sullen anger on his face
slowly dissolved into one of shock. The clerk saw that look and braced himself
for the worst. "Sir?"

His wallet was gone. The entire fabric of the pocket had been ripped off,
no doubt during his brawl with Piccolo up north. He had lost all of his money
including the citizenship card that Capsule Corp. had made for him. Even worst,
the capsule containing all of his belongings had been tucked into one of the
slots.

All lost.

"Oh- !!SHIT!!" He bellowed, bringing one fist down on the desk and
collapsing the wooden structure with the blow. The young clerk dove for the
floor with a terrified squawk and huddled there as the debris from his desk
toppled around him. Everything went quiet following that scene and when the man
braved himself to look around he saw that the crazy, drug-using psycho had left
the lobby. There were people gathered outside of the door pointing to the sky
for some unknown reason. He was just relieved to see the weird little dude gone
from his sight.

>>>>>
Vegeta fruitlessly attempted to find his way back to the forest where he
had battled Piccolo but soon discovered that one swatch of thick woods looked
exactly like another. Hoping that the Dragonball was still at the site he
reached into his coat pocket for the radar only to find that missing as well. He
was beyond indignation by then, hardly able to absorb any more input. Lost to
base instinct he swept back and forth across countless hectares of forestland
for hours until his depleted system forced him to the ground. He fell where he
landed, curling into a miserable ball and succumbing to his overwhelming
exhaustion that was partly delayed shock. The blackness curled around his bleak
thoughts with eager speed and he found himself hoping he wouldn't wake up as he
willingly surrendered to the darkness.

Unfortunately, an unknown length of time later consciousness dawned and he
slowly became aware of his surroundings. He was lying in a damp nest of rotting
pine needles and moss, the early afternoon air heavy with mist that partially
obscured the woods that closed in around him from all sides. It was drizzling
lightly and he powered up his ki as he sat up to stave off the chill and help
dry his clothes. The small act actually took an effort. He hugged his knees to
his chest and wondered bleakly what he was possibly going to do now. No money,
no identity, no possessions. If he attempted to take things by force he was
outnumbered by the Z fighters who didn't like him at the best of times. They
would be itching for an excuse just like this to kick his ass. The situation was
utterly hopeless and he wasn't surprised when the trees around him blurred
through a veil of indignant tears.

"Crying again, Vegeta no Ouji," barked a gruff voice from directly behind
him making him jump in surprise. "You've let this sorry excuse for a planet
break you."

Vegeta found himself frozen in place in his shock, unable to turn around.
The language being spoken was the Saiyajin dialect and the voice- He knew that
voice. "...Radditz?" He asked in a small, disbelieving voice.

"In the flesh, my prince. What pitifully little of it that I have left
anyway," came the sour retort.

Swallowing, Vegeta forced himself to look over his shoulder even as his
other senses were cautioning him against the act. He could smell the acrid
stench that had filled the small clearing, making the bile rise in his throat
and forcing him to breath through his mouth. There was also the low buzz of
hungry flies that were attracted by the smell of decay. The woods had gone
preternaturally silent around him, the wildlife abandoning the area as if
sensing the wrongness there and leaving him to his fate. Vegeta turned and his
face tightened in disgust when he regarded what was left of his former Saiyan
ally.

His time in Hell had not passed easily for Radditz. The formidable bulk of
proud warrior muscle now hung like limp ropes of decaying flesh from bones that
were visible through ragged tears in the gray skin. The protective armor hung on
his emaciated frame, the arm and leg bands having fallen off long ago. There was
the blast hole through his chest caused by Piccolo's ki fire and Vegeta could
see right through him. He could also see...things writhing in that terrible
wound, eating and breeding in that rotting nest of flesh. Radditz grinned at the
look of horror on his former superior's face, exposing teeth that were black,
rotten stubs and were in the process of falling out. Maggots churned in the
holes where his eyes had been. The luxurious mane of raven hair that had fallen
to the back of his knees was now thin and lank, exposing areas of his scalp that
was flayed down to the bone.

"You look like shit," Vegeta said at last.

Throwing his head back, Radditz gave voice to boisterous laughter at the
comment. He did so for quite some time before he started coughing up the larvae
that had been laid in his lungs and spit up a combination of bugs and congealed
blood. As he wiped his mouth he had to snicker, "I was going to say the exact
same thing to you but I guess you've got me on that one. Well said, my prince."

"Thanks," he said with a marked lack of enthusiasm.

"I didn't want you to see me as I am but Nappa is still trying to piece
his body together and he couldn't come. You really did a number on him."

"He was a weak and ineffectual imbecile. He deserved to be executed for
his failure."

The humor went out of Radditz at that. "We were the last of Vegetasei to
survive its destruction. We raised you ourselves and this was how you repaid our
loyalty? You told Nappa that wishing me back with the Dragonballs was a waste.
You murdered your own bodyguard when he was too injured to defend himself. Here
you are shedding childish tears because you're alone and it's all your fault to
begin with!"

Jumping to his feet with a snarl, Vegeta pointed a trembling finger to his
former comrade and yelled, "You will NOT talk to me in that manner! I am your
prince and you will address me as such! Do you understand?"

"What're you gonna do? Kill me?" Radditz sneered contemptuously. "I don't
think so."

"Why are you here? State your reason and leave. Your stink is scaring away
the game in the area."

"I've come to give you a warning."

"Is that a fact?"

"Vegeta, you have allowed yourself to succumb to the V'Nhar."

That cut through Vegeta's anger. V'Nhar; the Hunger. A condition derived
from poor eating habits where the Saiyan metabolism turned in on itself,
cannibalizing the very ki that it should be maintaining. The last thing
resembling a meal that he had eaten in the last few days had been the heart he
had torn out of the grizzly. He could die from this if he didn't start eating
immediately.

Nodding, he gave Radditz a 'go away' gesture. "You have passed along your
concern. You can go."

"You can't excuse me like I'm one of your lackeys, Vegeta," Radditz grated
out menacingly. "I came because I wanted to and I won't leave until I'm damned
good and ready."

"Your disposition borders on insubordination, soldier," Vegeta said, on
the edge of serious anger. "Remember your place."

Growling with spite, the Saiyan corpse spit a mouthful of gore at Vegeta's
feet, advancing on him. The smaller man immediately backed away from that
approaching horror until his back connected with the trunk of a tree. Radditz's
bulk prevented any chance of escape. His moldering features loomed in like a
nightmare and his putrescent breath soured the air when he spoke. "You are
nothing to me, little prince. I command a legion of warriors in Hell. My name is
spoken with respect because I was felled in battle and had the privilege of
taking Kakarott with me when I died. It was more than you ever accomplished. If
there's anyone here who should be paying homage to their superior, YOU should be
bowing to ME."

Sputtering with rage, Vegeta struggled to get away from this loathsome
creature. There was no way it could be Radditz, he was thinking in something
close to a panic. That weak baka soldier had been terrified of him. He would
never have the guts to insult him in such a manner. Urgently, he pushed against
the stinking figure only to have one of his hands sink into the moist flesh.
When he pulled it out it was covered in rancid yellow pus that swarmed with
black beetles. With a choked cry he tried to shake them off.

Radditz pushed him back against the tree. "All of the Saiyans in Hell
watched your defeat at the hands of Frieza. Your own father the King watched you
when you wept tears like a weak woman and beg for my younger brother to kill the
tyrant in your place. He disowned you on the spot, cursing your name. When
Kakarott achieved the revered level of Super-Saiyan, King Vegeta said that he
was more worthy of being his son then you ever were."

All of the blood drained from Vegeta's face. He was shaking his head in
denial even as words failed him. Radditz moved in until their faces were mere
inches apart. His fetid breath smelled like flyblown meat. "Face facts, little
prince. You're a failure in everything you've ever done. You failed your father,
you failed your people and you failed our world. The reason you're at the mercy
of this mudball is because you were too weak to conquer it-"

"...No," Vegeta whispered. "It was...four against one. The fight had no
honor. I was denied my right to die in the field by your own brother-"

"-He gave you a gift and all you've done is piss and moan about it ever
since it happened," Radditz hissed, his foul breath permeating Vegeta's aching
senses.

Fighting back the urge to retch, Vegeta countered with, "I never asked him
for that. He shamed me when he spared my life."

"And here you are eager to end it. Why not do us the honor of sparing us
from witnessing more of your failures and kill yourself right here? Power up the
ki in your hand and plunge it through your chest," Radditz suggested mildly.

Through clenched teeth, Vegeta hissed, "Don't you tempt me. I've been
thinking about that."

Radditz whirled away from him laughing again. Free of his presence, Vegeta
slid roughly down the bark of the tree until he was left sitting on the ground,
numb with shock and visibly shaking. "Look at you!" the feculent warrior
declared with insane glee. "You can't even stand! There you are trembling like a
pathetic little child, unable to handle the truth. Your days are numbered
anyway, Vegeta. We both know it. Do yourself a favor and end it right here and
now."

"Damn you, Radditz-" Vegeta curled his right hand into an unsteady fist.

"Come on, little prince. You can do it," Radditz urged with that maniacal
grin on his rotting face. "Come back to us. Your people are all waiting for you.
It'll be one great big homecoming party of the damned."

Vegeta was still shaking his head in denial even as his fist began to
glow. "I-I still have things to-to do here..."

"Nappa is waiting for you. So is your father. Even your mother who you
murdered when you ripped yourself free of her womb. All of the Saiyajin are
waiting for their only prince. I'll escort you there personally." Radditz
extended a hand to him in invitation, looking as if he were offering the biggest
favor on Earth.

The gesture was very appealing. Raising his glowing fist to eye level,
Vegeta watched the energies swirl and coalesce into a white-hot dagger of fire
that would be capable of piercing his alien flesh in one swift stroke. If he did
it right he could be dead before thought had time to become purpose. That would
leave him free to take Radditz's hand and be reunited with his people at long
last. He would no longer be the last of his line anymore. He would no longer be
alone. The crackle of harnessed ki was like a siren's call to him, assuring him
that all it would take would be a mere second of pain before he would get the
immortality he desired. Sweat joined the tears that ran down his face. He had to
grip his arm with his free hand to steady it so badly was it shaking. Just as he
was about to plunge that sliver of deadly fire into his brain-

-He dropped his arm. "...no..." he murmured in exhaustion, the energies
dissipating like smoke. Looked up at the hulking corpse and in a stronger voice
he said clearly, "No."

"You worthless little worm," Radditz spat. "Your courage is as stunted as
your body! You're useless! You're a failure! You're a joke! You're-"

"You're going back to HELL!" Vegeta yelled and blasted the rampaging
cadaver with an explosion that echoed throughout the timber. When the smoke
cleared there was no trace of Radditz, fueling the doubt he had ever been there
to begin with.

...It-it had to be a delusion brought on by the V'Nhar, he thought, wiping
away the moisture from his brow, disregarding the heat radiating from his
temple. He was quaking very badly from the encounter. There's no way that could
have been Radditz. That weak prick would just as soon piss his pants than anger
me in such a manner. In fact, if I see him again I'm going to nail him right in
the-

A hand suddenly dropped heavily on his shoulder. Screaming, Vegeta
scrambled to his feet and blasted out of the clearing without so much as a look
back. All he would have seen would have been one befuddled Boy Scout no more
than eight years old who was out on a day hike with his troop. After absorbing
the scene with slack-jawed astonishment, the boy quickly sprinted back to where
the rest of his friends had gathered to rest, yelling about flying aliens.

Needless to say, nobody believed him.

>>>>>
Racing a direct course west, Vegeta made the resolve that whether or not
there was a civil war or price on his head, he was going to steal Capsule 3 and
return to space. If he was going to die, at least he'd be able to take some
pricks right along with him as opposed to committing suicide in a stupid forest.
Earth had been nothing but a source of defeat and despair for him. If he still
had his tail right now, it would be up between his legs like a beaten cur. It
was time to leave this damn planet for good.

Scarcely before the Western Capital came into view he sensed their ki's.
All of them. Dread settled into the pit of his stomach and he landed outside of
the city limits and proceeded to enter on foot, concentrating on keeping his
personal ki hidden from their sensitive minds. When he reached the center of the
city, he cautiously peered around the corner of a building that was directly
across from Capsule Corp. granting him an unobstructed view of the front
courtyard. All of the Z fighters were assembled together in front of the main
building entrance. Kakarott, Piccolo, Gohan, Yamcha, Krillin, Tien, Chiaotzu,
hell, even that perverted old fossil Master Roshi was there with the walking pig
and the fat bastard samurai in tow and none of them had gathered for a party.
Dr. Briefs was addressing them, his arms waving wildly and Vegeta ducked behind
the building, his heart racing in his chest.

The old fuck has formed a damn posse! he thought in disbelief. He flinched
as someone passed by overhead and dove for cover behind a dumpster. Krillin
swept past, traveling low and keeping his speed to a minimum as he inspected the
area. The Saiyan could feel the little monk's thoughts radiating outwards like
radar, attempting to home in on his distinctive ki. He didn't even allow himself
to think until the bald little midget moved on, searching the city block by
block. The others radiated outwards in other directions granting Vegeta a
glimmer of hope that perhaps the Capsule he wanted would be unguarded.

Braving himself for another look, he should have realized that good
fortune was not in his cards. Not only were the old man and his useless tag-
alongs there but Gokou had also stayed behind to talk to Dr. Briefs. The old man
was visibly upset and Gokou, ever the peacemaker, was trying to console him in
his grief. Vegeta felt a pang of that murderous intent well inside him and he
was tempted to charge right over and kill the old bastard for what he had
reduced him to: skulking around alleys like a homeless vagrant. Now he had to
add insult to injury and hire the Z goons to hunt him down like some wild
animal.

He retreated back to the familiar territory of the city's main park,
counting on the thick foliage to shield him from any aerial scrutiny. Obviously,
he had to get back to the outer limits and into the woods where he could survive
indefinitely but he had to wait for it to get dark before he dared to leave the
safety of the park and risk moving out in the open. The night was a Saiyan's
element, moon or no moon and he could wait for its arrival. Moving off of the
main path he went deeper into the woods until the scents of intruding humans
faded and he found a spot where he would be unbothered. Crawling under thick
bushes, he made a reasonably comfortable nest amid the dry leaves and settled
down, trying to clear his aching mind. He was asleep the instant he laid his
head on the ground.

At sometime around dusk, he awoke completely disoriented and not refreshed
by his extended slumber in the least. When realization finally came to him it
did very little to ease his anxiety and he spared an anxious glance skywards
through parts in the bushes. He elected to remain where he was until night had
completely fallen and it seemed to take forever as he fidgeted nervously in his
hiding place. Of all of the indignities of the past year this had to be the
absolute worst, trapped and hunted like an animal. There was nothing in his
experience that even remotely resembled this depth of degradation. He was
supposed to be the hunter, not the prey but that was exactly what he had been
reduced to. Weak, retreating prey.

When he was satisfied it was dark enough he found his way back to the main
path that led out of the park. At one point a cramp drilled into his mid-section
forcing him over to a nearby bench and he sat doubled over until the spell
passed. V'Nhar. If he didn't get some food into him soon he was going to be
rendered completely helpless and at the mercy of the Z Fighters. Forcing himself
back to his feet he left the safety of the park and headed in the direction that
he hoped would get him out of the city quickly.

On two separate occasions he ducked out of sight of policemen as they
patrolled the sidewalks, knowing his blood-splattered attire would attract the
wrong attention. Once, he sensed Piccolo do a fly-by several blocks away.
Generally he stuck to the shadows as best he could, meandering his way eastwards
through alleyways, between buildings and around parking lots. It was slow
progress; he would have preferred to fly but didn't dare risk the chance of
detection so he plodded on, muttering a steady monotone of curses.

As he rounded one corner he suddenly froze. His numb senses detected a
faint scent, one he instantly recognized. SHE had been here! He closed his eyes
and evaluated the perfumed scent, tasting it, evaluating every molecule of
information it could tell him about its owner. Instead of going right, he turned
left, now heading in the opposite direction of his original course as he
followed the tendrils of that particular woman's aroma. It was familiar and
unthreatening, two things he desperately needed at this very moment and it got
stronger until he was finally standing in front of a magnificent townhouse. He
regarded the three story tall structure in weary amazement. So this was what the
woman called home. He raised his fist to bring it down on the door and ended up
pushing the doorbell instead. Putting his hands in his pockets he braced himself
for the inevitable confrontation.

The door opened and SHE was there. Betraying one astonished blink of
surprise, she regarded him with wary concern. "Vegeta? Is that you?"

"Can I...come in?" he asked hollowly, unable to make eye contact so great
was his shame.

"Sure...sure, come on in," she said, stepping aside to let him into the
building. She stared after him in amazement before allowing herself a predator's
grin of satisfaction.

"How the mighty have fallen," Dorothy Pereaux whispered in a smug little
voice before closing the door and locking it.



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A/N: Yep! It's that temptress who ticked off Bulma in Chapter 5 by making
advances at Vegeta. What do you think about THIS little development! :)
If you would like to be on the mailing list to receive direct notification of
when new chapters of this story are posted, please e-mail your request to:
darke_angelus@hotmail.com
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Chapter Eleven: Bulma has moved out of Capsule Corp. attempting to find Vegeta
on her own and rejecting any assistance from friends or family. As things become
grim, who finds whom first?
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