Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ He Means Business ❯ 10 ( Chapter 10 )

"New muffins," Trunks hopped through the door, swinging his backpack onto the table. "I brought some home."

 

"Wow," Bulma grinned, "a pro already, huh?" She removed one of the muffins from the backpack, inspecting it. "Still, this is their only recent innovation?"

 

"The line was going out the door," Trunks took a seat beside his mother. "And around the street corner. Every single one of 'em wanted those muffins. There's some berry in there..."

 

"Do you know what it is?" Bulma broke a piece off of the muffin to get a better look at the berries inside.

 

Trunks shook his head. "Raditsu had all his employees calling it by some code name. Goten too, and Goten's dad."

 

"Yeah?" Bulma raised an eyebrow, taking a bite. Her eyes widened. "Damn."

 

 

...

 

 

"And this is from the cash register," Mark waved a fat stack of bills in front of Raditsu as he entered his office. "Radish-man, if you'd have told me the shop would make this much in a week, let alone a day, I never would have believed you. And we were a dessert shop all along before this, so it's not as if—" he paused was he noticed that Raditsu was asleep, head resting against his desk. "Hey now, I know you've been working hard, but honestly," he sighed, nudging him.

 

"They've all been exterminated," Raditsu mumbled, switching to lying against his other ear. "Ri' on time, sir..."

 

"Radish Man!" Mark snapped beside his ear, and Raditsu bolted up.

 

"Nappa!" he blurted.

 

"Sorry?"

 

"Oh," Raditsu pinched his nose. "Dammit, what the hell was that?"

 

"You said something about naps," Mark helped. "And I thought you'd like to see what we pulled in from money in the register alone today," he slapped the bills against the desk. "Those muffins were genius."

 

"Thank Kakarrot," Raditsu rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

 

"Ah, yes, the Carrot-man headed home with his son about half an hour ago."

 

Raditsu nodded. "Arright."

"The pink-haired kid, he's one of your hires, right?"

 

"What?" the Saiyajin was suddenly more awake. "No—not technically, why?"

"Oh," Mark scratched his head, "one of the cashiers told me he asked for his payment along with that Goten kid. Took a share of our goods home."

 

Raditsu shrugged. "Well, nothin' we can do now. Besides, Bulma will never figure out the secret ingredient."

 

"Whatever," Mark turned away to leave before freezing. "Wait—Bulma as in Bulma Briefs? Of Capsule Corporation?"

 

"She's that famous around here?"

 

"Oh god, yes!" his eyes were suddenly glazed over with an extra layer that wasn't his glasses. "One day I will meet her...but how do you know her?"

 

"Er," Raditsu picked up the bills, stowing them away. One person had tried to steal from their store—one. There had been a robber-shaped hole through the wall the next morning, and Raditsu sleeping right beside it, and no one had tried to break in since. "I'm sort of supposed to compete with her. In business."

 

"No way," Mark muttered. "Then what are you doing still running pastry joint?"

 

Raditsu gathered up some papers beneath him, stowing them away as well. "This place had my name on it, didn't it? Besides, she's bringing the competition to us. I hear she's starting some form of food delivery service."

 

"Man," Mark readjusted his glasses, "the Bulma Briefs. Believe you me, I'm just a pastry chef right now, but one day, when I finish my engineering degree—"

 

"She's a scary woman," Raditsu leaned close. "She has Vegeta—you know, the guy who's been around here that past couple of days, tall hair, mean eyes?—Vegeta!—by his—"

 

"Oh, goddammit, Raditsu!" came the prince's voice from the door. "Have you even considered my idea yet? Do you want my help or not?"

"He was just resting," Mark whipped around. "And I seriously doubt he needs your ideas. Did you see how much we brought in today?"

 

Vegeta shrugged, his mouth twitching. "Whatever you say. Anyway, I'm leaving for the night. You know where to find me."

 

"In a tree?" Raditsu raised an eyebrow, and Vegeta grumbled as he left.

 

 

...

 

 

"All right, if we run down that hall," King Vegeta started in a whisper, "then it takes us to another door, which is out of view of this entrance, and—"

 

Bam. "Guys!"

 

"Shit," Bardock mumbled. "Too late."

 

"F-fuh-fancy seeing you here, Nappa," King Vegeta turned around slowly, trying to act casual as he leaned against the table. "How'd you get past the guards?"

 

"I won a bet," he grinned, pacing across the room to meet the two of them.

 

"What sort of bet?"

 

"They bet that I couldn't beat 'em up!" he chuckled. "Or more like, I bet that I could, and they didn't really answer."

 

"Well," King Vegeta laughed lightly, "good...good for you. Haven't seen you in a while...like...four days..."

 

"I missed both a' you guys," Nappa threw an arm around each of their shoulders. "Lemme tell you. Hey, we could play cards now, even."

 

"Say," Bardock finally spoke up, trying to remove the arm from around him, "Nappa."

 

"Yeah?"

 

"If King Vegeta bet that he could beat you up, would he win?"

 

The king's eyes grew wide and he made wild hand motions at Bardock.

 

"Good question," Nappa scratched his head. "Maybe. I fight a whole lot more'n him, so maybe I'm stronger by now." He rolled back and forth on his feet, considering it. "Thing is though, he always has that royal guard with him." He turned to the king. "Don't you?"

 

"At this very moment," King Vegeta answered matter-of-factly, nodding. "Yes."

 

"Sneaky guys," Nappa whistled. "And I'm sure I can't beat all of 'em, from what the King says."

 

"I see."

 

"To be frank," Nappa met Bardock's eyes to convey his honesty and conviction, "I'd be afraid to even try, 'cause I'm sure they'd have me whipped pretty bad before I could even blink. King Vegeta says they're pretty strong."

 

"Yes," Bardock agreed, "he does. And, Nappa?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

"If King Vegeta bet that he could beat you in a race, would he win?"

 

"Oh, probably," Nappa shrugged. "I see him practicing his running all the time. He's a pretty quick guy, you know."

 

"I see." Bardock leaned forward to lock gazes with King Vegeta, winked, and crumpled to the floor.

 

"He does that," Nappa sighed. "Something wrong with his head, that poor guy."

 

King Vegeta nodded mutely, gulping. Unassumingly but with shaky hands, he leaned forward, grabbed Bardock's body, and ran.

 

 

...

 

 

"But Mom," Trunks huffed. "I didn't have time 'cause I was spying for you after school!"

 

"That's no excuse for a messy room," Bulma crossed her arms. "I told you to clean it yesterday and you didn't do it then, either. Trunks, this is another business lesson for you—deadlines are important, and you failed to meet yours."

 

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Fine. Whatever. What if I clean it tonight before bed?"

 

"Then you'll only lose one week's worth of allowance instead of two."

 

"Wh-what?"

 

"You heard me. And no gravity room for the rest of this week!"

 

"No way! You're joking now!"

 

"You'd best get to cleaning, mister," she closed her eyes, striding away.

 

Trunks collapsed onto his bed, frowning. No allowance this week? But I was supposed to get extra... He bolted up, grinning. Maybe I still can.

 

 

...

 

 

"So, Raditsu?" Vegeta smirked, entering the shop with sweeping grandeur for all his rumpled clothes and messier-than-usual hair. "Have you given it any thought—my plan?"

 

"Tell you what, Vegeta," Raditsu glanced up from a vat of batter, licking some of it off his finger and giving one of the cooks a nod, "maybe after the excitement of this whole muffin thing cools down, so to speak."

 

"And what if it crashes down before you expect it? You run out of those berries? You'll have no backup!"

 

"I'm really not worried about that right now," Raditsu sighed. "Vegeta, thanks but...it would really be more helpful if you helped Kakarrot with the taste-testing right now."

 

Vegeta grumbled, stalking off toward the other Saiyajin.

 

"And then," Goku leaned in close to Goten, who stared back at him, engrossed in the tale, "I realized the only way to fix it was to just charge in there and do my own thing!"

 

The prince's eyes widened, and his scowl lightened into a grin. "Well put, Kakarrot," he slid up to the man.

 

"You don't even know what I was talking about," Goku pouted, but as he noted Vegeta's expression—pleasant, if a little suspiciously so—he smiled. "You look happy about something."

 

"Not yet," he crossed his arms, "but I hope to be."

 

"Well, you must be pretty hopeful then."

 

"I am."

 

"So what is it? That's gonna make you happy?" he leaned close to Vegeta. "You got an idea for an even tastier recipe?"

 

"Something like that," Vegeta did not push him away, voice low. "Kakarrot, you've only known Raditsu for a little while, right?"

 

Goku nodded. "Right. Besides the time we fought, but 'course that was less'n a day." He tried to follow Vegeta's lead, whispering as well, which caused Goten to pop his head up between them to hear better.

 

"So you...still..." he considered his words carefully, weighing the amount of pride each might cost him, "you still like me better, right?" He mustered a smirk.

 

"Oh!" exclaimed, but then shoved his hands over his mouth at the glare Vegeta shot him for making such a loud noise. "Oh, Vegeta, are you jealous or somethin'?" When Vegeta didn't respond, he let a warm smile overtake his features. "Aw, you an' me have been through a lot more than just making desserts, 'course! Is that what you wanted t' hear, Vegeta?" Again, Vegeta didn't respond, apparently still finding his gloves more interesting, so Goku continued. "Anyway, no worries, Vegeta. You're way more like family t' me than Raditsu, even though he's my brother an' all." Goten grinned, nodding.

 

"Please don't put it that way," Vegeta mumbled.

 

"What?" Goku blinked. "Arright, um...you're my friend, Vegeta. Like I told Raditsu way back when, it don't matter who's my family and who ain't. The fact a' the matter is, you and me are prob'ly closer than me an' Raditsu ever will be. I know it, Vegeta!"

 

"Marginally better," he answered, smirking again. "I'm glad you feel that way, Kakarrot, because..." the prince leaned in closer, and motioned for Goku to do the same. Goten frowned as he was pushed out of the huddle, but stood on his tiptoes to listen as well as he could manage. "I think Raditsu's taking the wrong direction here, but he won't listen to me. I have some damn good ideas that I know Bulma would have at least given a chance, but Raditsu's a fool."

 

Goku nodded. "Okay...so..."

 

"So I'd like to ask you, Kakarrot, to join me—in making my own business. I'm certain that we can defeat both Raditsu and Bulma!"

 

"We are a pretty good team," Goku grinned, but his features quickly became more solemn as he fiddled with his wristbands, "but I promised Raditsu my help."

 

"I remember that fool having some line he always repeated," Vegeta mused, smirking slyly, "about card games."

 

"Oh," Goku was grinning once more, "yeah—yeah! That means it's allowed! Yeah!" At another warning glare from Vegeta, he simply nodded vigorously. He gave a thumbs-up, and Goten squeaked something from behind them. The two whipped around to see Raditsu approaching, surveying the area.

 

"Needs a little more sugar, I'd say," Vegeta spoke loudly as the Saiyajin approached.

 

"I dunno, you haven't even ta—" Goku started, and Vegeta stomped on his foot. He straightened and corrected himself. "Sugar is tasty!"

 

"Cute," Raditsu snickered. "Kakarrot, at least your stupidity is endearing."

 

As he passed, Goku leaned down to murmur again. "I like it a lot better when you say that kind of thing," he glanced at Vegeta, "than when he says it."

 

The prince's lips curled into a smirk. "Then I'd say this is going to work out just fine."

 

"Yay!" Goten hugged Vegeta around the waist. "We're family now!"

 

Vegeta grumbled, removing the boy from himself. "Stop it, whelp." Goku and Goten smiled, and Vegeta shivered. "Now get back to your inconsequential batter-tasting duties."