Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Lab Monkey ❯ Fair Trade ( Chapter 9 )

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ which is good, because it would have ended up being a completely different story involving whips and chains.

Chapter Nine

Fair Trade

Bulma slowly opened her eyes, blinking blurrily while she tried to focus on the polished metal ceiling. Oh Kami, it felt like she had been run over by a Mac truck. Every muscle in her body screamed in agony. She rolled off the flat steel gurney she had been laying on, her pained groan echoing in the room.

She staggered over to the nearby wash stand that jutted nakedly from the wall, the pipes still embarrassingly visible beneath the basin. She paused to grimace at herself in the flat mirror bolted above the sink as she turned on the facet and shakily splashed her face with icy water. She rolled her swollen tongue around in her mouth, pursing her lips at the bitter taste. It felt like she had slept with wadded up cotton in her mouth that had sopped up every last bit of saliva. She cupped her hands and brought the cool water up to her lips, drinking it greedily.

She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, groping for a nearby towel. As she dried her face, she peered into the mirror, examining the bloody bandage that was wrapped around her throbbing head. She prodded it with a slender finger, before finally deciding to leave it be. She frowned at the disgusting image she presented in the mirror. Her hair was a rat's nest that straggled down over her shoulders in a tangled mess and her mascara had left deep black circles around her eyes, one of which was blood shot and swollen.

"Damn, I'm ugly." She muttered while warming the tap and reaching for the towel again so she could wet a corner to clean the ruined make-up from her face.

"Glad you finally agree with me." Vegeta's voice boomed across the room and Bulma clutched her head. She felt like she had gotten into a fist fight with a couple of leather clad biker bitches and lost.

"What do you want?" She hissed irritably

"Oh, a multitude of things." Vegeta lounged in the doorway, his eyes raking over the disheveled woman in front of him. "But I will settle for some food."

Bulma snorted and finished washing her face with warm water. Her stomach chose that moment to rumble demandingly and she glanced down at her flat midriff with a frown, before shrugging dismissively.

"Well the galley is two decks down." She muttered absently while looking for a comb of some sort. With a sinking feeling, Bulma comprehended that there was no brush, nor was she going to find one on the ship. With a sneer of disgust at her reflection she pulled off the hair tie that she always kept around her wrist and gathered her hair into a messy pony tail.

"It's empty." Vegeta retorted with a snide clip, wondering how long it would take until their dire situation would finally become clear to the woman. Longer than expected, given her quick mind, but he chalked it up to the bump on her head.

Bulma fussed around with her hair a few more moments, checking her bandage again just to be sure. She was inwardly surprised when she realized that Vegeta must have wrapped her head for her. It was expertly done, undoubtedly years of experience donning field dressings coming to bear. She didn't remember much past setting the coordinates for the ship, so she must have fainted shortly thereafter. She looked down at her clothes and wrinkled her nose at the sight. She was still wearing the same thing, including her white lab coat that was stiff and crusty with dried blood. She shrugged it off, smoothing her hands over her wrinkled suit, trying to make her appearance somewhat presentable.

She was going to have to get some clothes somewhere. It wasn't like she had any packed on the ship or anything else for that matter. No make-up, no toothbrush, no tampons. Every thing a girl needs to face the world. Bulma stuck her tongue out at her reflection. She hadn't been planning any kind of trip and the ship was suppose to be dry docked for several more months. This was not the cruise she had in mind when she told her father that she would go on vacation and relax.

Bulma hands slowed their restless wonderings over her clothing and the corner of Vegeta's mouth curled as he watched her eyes widen. She snapped her head in his direction, causing her to sway slightly at the pain the motion caused her.

"We don't have any food." She screeched and Vegeta couldn't help but chuckle at the outraged look on her face.

"You're a quick one, aren't you?" He sneered at her surprised features and she snapped her jaw closed with an audible click.

Bulma paced the small medical room agitatedly as she scrutinized their situation. There was no food whatsoever on the ship and their water tanks were only about half full. She started chewing her nails, muttering to herself while Vegeta watched her closely. The ship itself wasn't even completed and the journey to Namek was a dangerous one. Most of the equipment on her ship hadn't even been tested for travel yet and she had no idea how they would withstand deep space.

She rounded on Vegeta her finger upraised as a solution struck her. "Well we have to get some food." Vegeta rolled his eyes and he shifted his weight, crossing his foot over his ankle as he sighed heavily.

"No shit, dumbass. Lucky for you, I have already checked the navigational charts and there is a planet, about two days travel from here that we can get food at." Bulma's face wilted and she bit her lip worriedly.

"Two days?" She questioned and her stomach growled insistently again. She looked down with a frown before she glanced back at Vegeta. "How long was I asleep?"

"About a day." Vegeta replied uninterestedly.

"What?" Bulma shrieked and Vegeta automatically hunched his shoulders to protect his ears from the horrendous sound. "I can't live three days without food. I will starve to death." She insisted.

Vegeta snorted before answering. "You won't starve woman. Three days is nothing. At least we have water to drink."

Bulma notched her hands on her hips and glared at the man in the doorway. "Oh yah? Well what about you? You're a Saiyan. Don't you have to eat two tons of food every ten minutes?"

At her words Vegeta's eyes darkened and Bulma felt a moment of unease. Though he would never admit it, while he had been under Bulma's care he had eaten better than he had most of his life. She had been sure that he received three square meals a day and even indulged him in desserts. Something he never received while serving under Frieza. He hadn't lied when he said three days without eating was nothing. He had gone much longer without even water to keep him going. He had to admit, he felt a small amount of trepidation when he thought about the woman not eating for three straight days. She was so much smaller than he. She couldn't afford to miss many meals. The stress she had been under before they left would no doubt contribute to her frailness. He was sure that she hadn't been eating well in the days preceding their departure.

He raked his hot eyes down her body, taking in the soft swell of her breasts as she panted with indignation and her delicate toes as they tapped a tattoo of annoyance of the floor. Bulma's cheeks flushed at his heated gaze and she was distinctly aware of the fact that a barrier no longer separated them.

His black eyes met hers and his lips spread into a sensuous smile that made her think of chocolate covered skin and velvety tongues. She fought the urge to smack herself in her head as her stomach simultaneously growled at the delicious thought and clenched with desire at the same time.

"Well I suppose I could always eat you." Vegeta's husky voice slid over her, caressing her in the most intimate places. Her heart rate increased and she couldn't discern whether he meant he would cook her over an open fire or something much more…decadent.

Vegeta gave her one last veiled look before pushing himself up off the door jam and sauntering down the hall. "Hurry up and come set the course for the planet." He shouted, jogging Bulma out of her daze. She checked herself in the mirror one last time before darting out the doorway after him.

*~*

Bulma lay sideways on the bed, her head hanging upside down over the edge. She absently threw a rubber ball that she had found against the far wall, catching it on the rebound before it nailed her right between the eyes. The first day of their journey she had wondered around the ship, finally ending up on the observation deck. She had sat for hours, gazing out the velvet darkness of space that was decorated with diamond studded stars.

She had been completely enthralled and she would have stayed their indefinitely if Vegeta hadn't broken her reverie. He had entered the room, lounging lazily against the door as was his way when he wanted to intimidate her. He said nothing and she had soon fled the room, the weight of his black eyes following her. She had been unavoidably reminded of their unbreakable, fateful engagement that lingered in the future. Though he had spared her for the moment, he would eventually take her life and everything she loved with it, if she didn't find some way soon of dissuading him.

"Mama's chocolate soufflé." She muttered to herself.

So now she was in the room she had picked after she had set the coordinates for the planet Vegeta had pointed out. The ship was built to house a crew of at least twenty people so she had plenty of choices. It had a small port window and she had entertained herself watching the stars blaze by, but she soon become bored with the unchanging scenery. Space travel was not as exciting as she thought it would be. Especially when she had a whole lot of nothing to do and the only other living person on the ship with her was a cold blooded killer. Yah, it was a regular carnival of horrors.

"Pomegranates. Ripe right off the tree."

Of course she had chosen the room furthest from Vegeta. She avoided him like the plague. She didn't trust him and most importantly she didn't trust herself around him. He was a dangerous man. Not just to races weaker than him, but to her morals in general. You just couldn't trust yourself when you body said 'jump him' at the same time your mind said 'run away'. Men like Vegeta should be locked away. Bulma snickered softly to herself as she deftly caught the ball again.

She had always been attracted to the wrong type of men, much to her own determent. She could never bring herself to go out with the nice, young, college boys that her father brought home from the office for her to meet. They were to tame and sickeningly sweet. They had never been subjected to a day of hard work in their life and they didn't even know what the word naughty meant. That was why she stayed with Yamcha these ten long years. He was her bad boy from the desert. To bad he was so easily domesticated. Maybe that was why she hung out with a bunch of fighters all the time. At least they always had something exciting going on in their lives that didn't involve a society luncheon or an all important board meeting. She thrived on the thrill of adventure. She was a free spirit. A wanderer. Or she could just be ill in the head.

"Oven baked bread." She paused a minute, catching the ball in midair. "With fresh churned butter."

She had no idea what Vegeta did to pass the time. She would wager her fifty-two piece ratchet set that he wasn't rehashing old love affairs or examining his personality flaws. Did he have love affairs? Her female instincts told her that he definitely wasn't a virgin. The man was probably born with the innate knowledge of how to make a woman scream. That didn't mean he had meaningful relationships in the past. He by no means seemed like the kind of guy that equated sex with love. She doubted that he had ever loved anyone in his life. Family, friends or a lover. Just because she heard his heartbeat didn't mean that he actually had a heart.

But still, his heart beat. Which meant he was a living being. And she had almost taken that life. She would have snuffed it out as callously as she would squash a bug. She had no choice she told herself bitterly. She had to compromise her morals for the greater good. It wasn't as though she would have taken perverse pleasure from killing him or that her actions were motivated by revenge. She had merely been cornered and when faced with preserving her unblemished soul or saving the lives of millions she had taken the most sensible route. She should be crowned a saint not denounced as a sinner.

It still would have been murder. Wrap it up pretty and stick a bow on it, but when it comes down to it you would have been a cold-blooded killer. Just like him.

The cruel bitter voice in the back of her head whispered. What was worse was the mocking laughter that lingered in her heart, because deep down inside, she knew that she had failed at her self imposed task purposefully. If the General had not come along she would have found some other way to avoid murdering Vegeta. She would have let him get free and had she not awoken in time then her world would be in ruins right now.

The mocking laughter that lingered was not ridiculing her for her determination to kill Vegeta. It mocked her because she would have ended up being much worse than a murderer of a single man. She would have been the destroyer of an entire civilization. Her inaction would have slew millions and there lay the heart of her guilt. Not her false resolution to kill Vegeta, but the heavy realization that she would not have. Even as she had plunged the syringe towards Vegeta's thigh she knew deep down that he would stop her. She was merely human and his reflexes were incomparable to hers.

Silent accusing tears fell from her eyes, sliding into the mass of hair at her temples. She grimly shook her shame away, focusing her mind on the present and banished the past to the prison of her mind where it would remain to torture her indefinitely. Guilt was an inescapable punishment. She sighed deeply, trying to focus on the ball that she was bouncing.

Three days without food was affecting her mind. It didn't really sound that bad when she first thought about it. Three days. That's nothing but seventy-two hours. Twenty four of which she would be asleep. She even had the extra bonus of being unconscious the first day. Of course she woke up utterly ravenous, but that was easily ignored. She drank some water and went on her way. But by the middle of the second day, she had doubled over with hunger pangs. Her stomach rebelled so violently that she was horribly nauseas and could barely move off the bathroom floor. She gulped cupfuls of water and it assuaged her pain slightly, but was still there, gnawing on her innards like a rat in a linen closet.

"Honey baked ham with cloves and mashed potatoes on the side."

Today wasn't so bad. Her mind was wondering a bit and she found it hard to concentrate. She didn't even bother getting out of bed. She was lethargic, but her overactive brain wouldn't let her sleep or her bladder for that matter. There was only so much water that she could drink. At this point she might as well stand over the toilet with a glass and pour it in because that was about as much good as it did her.

She sighed and went back to wondering what Vegeta was doing. He probably found the gym in the lower decks but it was only half furnished. She was sure that he was dissatisfied with it, but there was little she could do about it. She didn't have a gravity chamber, like the one she equipped on Goku's ship, stuffed up her sleeve. He was just going to have to entertain himself like she was doing. It wasn't as though she was going to seek him out and strike up a conversation. She might end up getting some unruly thoughts about his thighs, which would have nothing to do with sex and everything to do with her stomach.

"Steak. Big, thick, juicy steak as big around as Yajirobi." Bulma smacked her lips longingly.

And if she could harbor those thoughts, who knew what was running through Vegeta's head.

"Landfall in twenty minutes." Bulma whipped her head towards the panel as the computer's monotone voice filled the room. Her inattention allowed the ball she had been tossing to smack her right on her bruised temple.

"Ow!" She whimpered while putting her hand over her nearly healed wound. She slithered off the bed face first, struggling hard to stand. Black dots danced in front of her eyes and she swayed in the middle of her room. She quickly regained her balance and darted off to the control room, one hand jerking up her skirt that hung dangerously low on her thinning hips.

She raced onto the bridge, sliding to a stop when she saw Vegeta standing in the middle of the room, watching as an ugly brown planet on the view screen increased in size as they neared it. She approached Vegeta cautiously, skimming around him to examine the planet. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the sight. The first alien world she was going to set foot on and it wasn't even very pretty.

"What an ugly planet." She muttered, more than a fair dose of disappointment in her voice.

Vegeta refused to look at her, not even raising an eyebrow when she had entered. She had been avoiding him for the last two days and it was just as well. He was still pissed at her for manipulating him once again and getting him into another situation that he couldn't control. Not to mention trying to kill him. He was still a little shocked about that, although he wasn't certain why. He knew that when she had muttered her pitiful promises that they were lies, but somehow he found himself believing them. For a brief moment he wanted desperately to believe that there was one person in this shitty existence that was honest and true, something so completely unexpected. So completely impossible.

His cynicism was only proven correct when the little saint held a gun to his head, but he felt no satisfaction at the outcome, only overwhelming bitterness that threatened to swallow his already soiled soul. He wanted nothing more than to punish her, to make her pay for driving home the dark truth that he had always known. That brutality and hatred existed in everything and the love and purity were only guises for evil to hide under. He slit his eyes and glared straight ahead, knowing that he couldn't lay a hand on her or she would leave him stranded in the middle of nowhere with his thumb up his ass.

Since she had locked herself away in her room he couldn't even subtly terrorize her. Oh he could full blown chase her around the ship like a scared rabbit, but that wouldn't be nearly as satisfying as tormenting her slowly. He expected her to be sluggish these last few days, but he knew once he got some food in her that she wouldn't be able to sit still. Her natural intolerance for solitude would force her out of her room and right into his waiting arms. A weak willed creature such as her would not be able to withstand the unremitting silence that would echo through the ship during their long journey. He was well used to traveling alone, without any companionship, but the woman would break under the strain and then he would be one step closer to his prize.

Her words just underscored how ignorant of the universe she was. She had no idea what she was looking at or how things worked now that she was off her cotton candy planet. If she expected things to be dreamy like they were back on Earth she was in for a big surprise. She most certainly couldn't play Queen of the World out here. She was in Frieza's domain now and it was no better than the seventh circle of hell.

"It's a commerce planet. It deals only in trade. It has no need for vegetation." Vegeta short clipped reply made Bulma shutter and she decided to drop the subject.

She typed in the landing codes and braced herself against the console. She smiled smugly when the ship entered the atmosphere with barely a bump. She was such a genius. After seeing the rough take off Goku and the others had to endure she had made sure this ship the superior hydraulics it needed for a smooth ride.

They landed outside a heavily populated area on a strip of dirt that was nothing more than a parking lot for space ships. Bulma started cussing a blue streak, when a small cruiser darted by, nearly colliding with her ship's wider girth. For the first time, Vegeta turned his head to stare at the small woman. Maybe she wouldn't have such a hard time out here after all, he thought to himself.

"Shouldn't they have some sort of air traffic controller or something?" She bitched angrily.

Vegeta shook his head no as he replied. "Not here." He turned to walk away leaving Bulma to glare at the viewer.

"What the hell does that mean? Not here." She turned around to find him gone and she quickly scrambled after him.

"Wait! Wait for me!" She caught up with him at the hatch and she leaned against the wall, out of breath and dizzy. Three days without food had taken its toll on the woman and beneath her flushed cheeks Vegeta could see the unnatural pallor of her face.

"Stay here." He ordered while pressing the button to open the door.

"No way." She spouted. This was her first alien planet and she wanted to see it first hand. She wasn't going to wait on the ship like some good little house wife.

Vegeta turned to glare at her. "Woman, this isn't a holiday. Stay in here."

"I want to come, Vegeta. It's the first time that I have ever seen an alien world. I want to see everything." Her eyes sparkled with eagerness and innocent wonder and Vegeta felt his gut clench.

"It's dangerous out there woman." He growled fiercely, trying his best to look intimidating, but she just clasped her hands in front of her chest and batted her eyes up at him.

"Please Vegeta. No one out there could be more dangerous than you. I will be perfectly safe." Vegeta blinked at her backward logic. In all of his of his life he had never seen a woman bat her eyes at him. He almost didn't know what to think. Shrink in horror, yes. Scream with terror, of course, but never beg him prettily for a favor. She must have seen the indecision in his eyes because she smiled brilliantly up at him and darted under his arm and down the ramp.

Vegeta rubbed his hand over his face and followed her, knowing that only bad things could happen with her around. He caught up with her, grabbing her arm and spinning her around so he could face her.

"Listen up human. If you are going to do this with me there are some things you should know. First of all, whenever you speak to someone, keep your arms crossed in front of you. Everyone here is either a warrior or carrying a weapon of some kind. By crossing your arms it shows that you have no intention of attacking them."

Bulma listened intently, but glimpses of strange aliens here and there made her concentration wander. Most of the aliens seemed to be almost human looking, but with severe deformities like a third eye or a missing arm. They looked like bad actors in a futuristic film about mutants who lived too close to a nuclear power plant. However, a few were distinctly not human looking and they captured her attention nearly entirely. She saw one vermillion skinned, reptilian woman that reminded her of a vivid sunset in a smog laden sky.

"Oh is that why you always stand with your arms crossed? I thought it was just because you are an arrogant ass." She quipped up at him.

"I am arrogant. I'm a prince you moron, so show me some respect." He sneered at her and she frowned. "Secondly, when someone makes eye contact with you don't look away first. It makes you seem weak and if you look weak then they will think I am to by association. The last thing I need is for someone challenging me right now. Let's just get some food and get out of here." As he spoke his eyes roamed restlessly from one person to the next, searching for any threat. His constant surveillance made Bulma nervous and she began to question the wisdom of following him, alien planet or not. She had never seen Vegeta this cautious. He had said precious little about the planet so far and none of it had been positive.

He released her arm and strode up ahead, leaving her alone in the middle of the hard packed, clay path that was baked by the desert sun and coated with a thin layer of dust. With every step dust puffed up, coating the inside of her nose and mouth, caking on her skin. Already she felt sweat bead up on her brow from the intense heat and trail down her face, leaving trails in the dirt. She did a double take and scampered after Vegeta, her bravado evaporating at the thought of being left alone. First she trailed behind him, taking in everything with big eyes, but with every step she grew even with him until she was as close to his side as she could get without touching him.

The planet was painted in hues of mud browns and grays. The shine of tinny metal glinted in the sun, blinding her unprotected eyes. Refuse was piled on the sides of the streets, outside of shacks that were held together by spit and hope. Over some of the hovels the inhabitants had draped awnings, made of tattered, filthy cloth to protect them from the burning heat of the midday sun.

A little girl stood atop a heap of garbage her dirty thumb clamped in her small mouth. Bulma couldn't discern the color of her hair or her skin she was covered in so much filth. Bulma doubted that she had even bathed once in her life. She wore a rag that look disturbingly similar to the fabric that was being used as a nearby awning. The child watched them pass with empty eyes, only hunger burning in their desolate depths.

A woman to Bulma's left called out in a sing song voice, immediately snagging her attention. She leered suggestively at Vegeta, her hand sliding up her muddy thigh and dipping under the indecently short scrap she wore, that could be loosely described as a dress. She spewed words that Bulma didn't understand, but she recognized their universal meaning. She lewdly propositioned Vegeta, but he ignored her as he strode ahead. He glanced neither left or right and although he moved forward as though nothing but his goal existed, there was no doubt that he was fully aware of all that transpired around him.

The crowd thickened as they moved towards the center of the settlement and Vegeta was forced to slow their brutal pace. Bulma squeezed in tighter next to him as her eyes roamed over the array of weapons that were strapped to various parts of people's anatomy. Everything from deadly guns to wicked swords graced most everyone's attire.

Vegeta paused in the middle of the thoroughfare, waiting with uncommon patience for a group of pedestrians to pass in front of him. Apparently, Vegeta was aware of some sort of courtesy that was required when interacting with other cultures. He must only choose to use it when it benefited him to do so.

As they waited a shuffling noise drew her attention had she cast her eyes to the side. They had entered a narrow boulevard that consisted of only foot traffic. On either side were various run down establishments and Bulma didn't have to be a genius to figure out their purpose. From some drifted the odor of barely edible food and from others the stench of too much wine being spilled onto the rotting floorboards. She looked into a small fenced patio that was shielded from the sun by a sheet of tin braced on spindly wooden poles at each corner. She squinted her eyes and with a snort of disdain she noticed that several people lay sprawled on the ground. Their gaping mouths and vacant expressions would have caused her concern if she didn't see the shallow rise and fall of their concave chests.

From the depths of the darkened entrance to the building, a man stumbled out, showing no concern for the bodies he thoughtlessly stepped on. The motionless patrons didn't rouse themselves beyond a half-hearted grunt of protest as he stepped on their fingers or legs. The unkempt man made his way unsteadily to a small table that wobbled dangerously as he heaved his frail body into the chair. The man's eyes roved from one place to the next, never stopping for more than a second on any one object and his hands continuously scratched at any skin exposed by the rag he was wearing. He looked like a nervous Chihuahua, shivering and shaking, unable to sit still. Bulma could see weeping sores on his flesh and the constant raking by his dirty nails only inflamed the wounds more.

Unexpectedly, the man's bloodshot eyes connected with hers and she sucked in a breath at the sight. His red rimmed eyes were filled with and untold amount of despair and an almost frantic yearning for something that couldn't be named. Torment and frustration wracked his body and she could see that weariness penetrated him to the core. It was as though he had nothing left to give to life and was only waiting to die.

She watched as he unwrapped a small vial from a tattered cloth. He held the vial up to the light and the vibrant liquid inside glittered with crystal blue purity. It glowed brightly, shocking Bulma with the first bit of true color she had seen since coming to this dull, muted planet. He twisted off the top, pulling out a dropper like it was a perfume bottle. He leaned his head back and splashed two drops of the fluid into each of his eyes. His body trembled as a rattling sigh of ecstasy escaped the man's cracked lips. His head fell forward and his now wholly glowing crystal blue eyes gazed sightlessly at her. The furrowed lines on the man's face faded away and a look of vacuous peace claimed him. His entire body slumped down in his chair as he drifted away on a cloud of synthetic pleasure.

Bulma shuddered at the sight and the crowd surged around them almost separating her from Vegeta's protective shadow. Without thought she reached up and looped her slender fingers around his bicep, clamping onto him for safety. At her touch Vegeta looked down at the frightened woman, but she was too busy staring at the poverty that surrounded her to notice. He almost shook her off him, but he caught sight of a male casting her sly looks and instead he pulled her closer to him. She placed her other hand on his arm, clinging to him like a paramour would her lover.

"I thought this was a commerce planet?" Bulma questioned while eying another starved child with distaste.

"That doesn't mean they are rich." Vegeta looked around him, for the first time seeing this world they way the woman would. He had grown up traveling from world to world, very much like these. This was a low class trade planet, dealing with the more seedy needs of the universe, like prostitution and drugs. Most everyone who came to trade on this world was a criminal of some type, who needed discretion in their dealings, which is why he chose to land here in the first place.

Higher class commerce planets logged their transactions with the Intergalactic Merchant Database or IMD for short. It recorded all trade transacted with legal tender, automatically deducting Frieza's cut and transferred it to his royal coffers. If Frieza wanted to track him the first thing he would have traced would be the IMD. This still didn't remove all threat of discovery however. More than likely Frieza would have put word out that he was looking for his favorite monkey subject and there was a chance that someone would recognize him here, which his why he needed to be as inconspicuous as possible. He glance down at the beautiful woman who graced his arm. That was something that she was just not capable of.

Once they arrived at the market place, Vegeta quickly scanned the area, looking for the tell tale banner of a food merchant. At the end of a stall lined path was the distinctive wave of a dirty green pennant and he impatiently pushed himself through the crowd. Bulma gagged as Vegeta dragged her along behind him. The crush of people was overwhelming at their unwashed bodies pressing together caused a god-awful stench that assail her nose mercilessly. She used one of her hands to cover her nose and mouth, her eyes watering from the combination of body odor and the gritty dust that coated everything.

Vegeta stalked up to the stall, brushing a large man aside so he could address the vender. The larger man rounded on Vegeta angrily but one snarl and a gutturally spoken word from the prince sent the man running. So much for courtesy thought Bulma mirthlessly. Vegeta began to speak with the man behind the wooden counter and Bulma quickly realized that she would not be able to follow their conversation. She glanced at Vegeta really understanding for the first time that he was an alien, with alien skills and knowledge that she had no true conception of. How many languages did he speak, she wondered. How many races had he met in his short life, not just the ones he annihilated, but he ones he actually interacted with? What knowledge did he possess that made her hard won technology look childish and outdated?

Bulma scanned her surroundings, leaving behind the heart of a woman that constricted at the sight of so much depravity and degradation, instead viewing everything with the eye of a scientist. The man that Vegeta dealt with was human looking, but with short, course, dark stubble that stood out stiffly from his cheeks and his eyes were unnaturally rounded. They bulged from his face like shiny orbs of obsidian and she could discern neither a pupil nor the whites of his eyes. He wore an old, dirty hat that was pushed down low over his brow, shading huge eyes from the sun. Movement from under his shirt caused the fabric to ripple subtly and Bulma's skin started to crawl. He moved with an awkward gainliness that reminded her of a spider outside of its web.

Unlike other nearby stalls there was nothing gracing his rough hewn wooden counter and the only thing behind him was a fall of dark green material that she surmised separated his work area from his sleeping quarters. Seeing nothing of interest in his stall Bulma cast her eyes towards the neighboring lean-to. She saw a smattering of mechanical components scattered on the counter and she curiously moved to examine the alien technology.

She had gotten a few steps and raised her arm to touch the merchandise when she realized that something hindered her movement. She looked down to see the tip of Vegeta's tail tightly banded around her wrist like a furry bracelet. She frowned at it a moment before glaring up at Vegeta. He paid her no mind and seemed to be in intense negotiations with the merchant. She felt like a two year old whose mother had tied a rope around her arm so she wouldn't get lost in the crowd. She was tempted to yank hard on his appendage to teach him that Bulma Briefs would not be leashed like some sort of bitch in heat, but one look at a nearby delinquent who licked his lips insinuatingly quickly changed her mind. Better to be leashed by the master she knew than to be bound and gagged by the unknown monster that kidnapped her.

She continued her examination of the goods in front of her, completely unaware of the conversation that took place a few feet to her left.

"Unacceptable." Vegeta growled angrily at the bug man in front of him.

The man shrugged, his nose twitching sadistically. "I tain't see'in any ot'er way, Mi'tter. Take oit or leat it, but thatten be my ofter." The merchant's nasal tones rang out, prodding Vegeta's ire even more.

"My credit is good. You will take it." Vegeta thrust his credchip towards the man once again. When he landed on Earth the only thing he had tucked into his armor was a thin crystalline disk that held an accounting of all his finances. Like most of the more intelligent soldiers of Frieza he had a separate account under an alias so he could transact business without alerting his master of his movements. Most upper class worlds had scanners that swept the card and deducted the proper amount of credits for a purchase and transferred it into the merchant's account. Although Frieza should have no knowledge of this account, Vegeta still dreaded using such an obvious way to be traced, but he had no cash on him and nothing of value to trade. In a word, he was broke.

"No, no. I don't be taken any creds. Cash oly." The man waved his hands in front of him, warding off Vegeta's chip.

"You will take it or I will pull this shit hole shanty down around your ears." Vegeta growled in earnest, leaning over the counter threateningly. The man stepped back, but shook his head remorsefully.

"You'd don't wan'ta be doin' dat, Mi'tter. Wes frowns on any ruckus do'n heres thatten coot gets us look't at to c'osely by da empire." With a nod of his head, the merchant drew Vegeta's attention to two guards that stood just outside of the crowd. Their hard eyes watched Vegeta closely for any misbehavior. Vegeta quickly averted his head, hiding his face from their prying eyes and looking back towards the trader. The man's thin lips stretched into a shallow grin reveling a row of needle sharp teeth. "Wes don't wan's no tr'uble. We's are re'pectable folk that's jus' tryin' to makes us a livin'.

Vegeta snorted at the man's mocking words. His hands were tied. He couldn't blow the man's shop apart like he so dearly wished to nor did he have the money to buy the food they so desperately needed. He figured he could go for another week before hunger tightened its remorseless fist on him, staggering him with the demands of his howling belly, but the woman could not go much longer without something to eat. Already she was pale and listless. She stood in front of a table overflowing with a bunch of mechanical gizmos that should have put her in a tizzy of excitement, but she just poked at them half heartedly. Her cheekbones stood out in stark relief against her face, the midday sun casting shadows in the hollows of her eyes. She was disturbingly reminiscent of the many bodies he had seen littering a bloody battlefield. A walking corpse. She needed to eat and soon.

"The price you ask is too high." Vegeta growled at the man before him.

"A halfs of a hour is olys a b'ink of uhs eye. I bees done a'for yous knows it." The man eyed Bulma hungrily, rubbing hands together with barely suppressed lust. Vegeta grimaced at the hideous man in front of him. They needed food, but what the man asked for was unacceptable. The merchant was willing to outfit their ship with several months worth of food and all he requested in return was a half hour alone with Bulma to do with as he pleased. Such trades were not uncommon on this world and he should have anticipated something similar to this happening once he had left the ship with her in tow. She was far too beautiful of a woman to be on this planet and not get noticed a dozen times over.

Normally he found other male's urges to be a disgusting tool that he would have no problem utilizing to achieve his goal. After all, the woman's body was merely a resource like anything else and without food she would undoubtedly starve. If he hadn't already staked a claim on her he would have handed her over to the merchant and taken the food, but as it was he felt unnaturally possessive of her. He wanted no man's hands on her, to either punish her as the General had or to violate her as this worm wanted to do.

With a growl of frustration he turned on his heel, grabbing Bulma by the arm and dragging her down the dirt path. Bulma glared up at Vegeta's hard features before twisting her neck to look over her shoulder at the merchant. As the green banner, signifying food began to disappear from sight, Bulma made a snap decision completely ruled by her rumbling stomach.

"Stop Vegeta!" She yelled while digging her heels into the ground. He tried to drag her a few more feet, but she remained uncooperative and the last thing he wanted was to draw even more attention to her. He dropped her arm and whirled around, hollering into her upturned face.

"What?" He snarled and she drew back, startled at his ferocious outburst. Tears welled up in her big, blue eyes and Vegeta had to bite back an rude expletive.

"I'm hungry." She mumbled and he rolled his eyes.

"So what." He snatched her wrist again to lead her away, but she stubbornly yanked her arm back.

"Why didn't we get any food from that man?" She questioned, folding her arms in front of her as a mulish expression settled on her face.

"The price was too high." He sneered and reached for her arm again. She dodged around him, bumping into a shrewish woman who screeched at Bulma in an alien language.

Bulma shrugged her off, glaring up at Vegeta. "Do we have what he wants?"

Vegeta looked away from her, longingly casting a glance over his shoulder towards the ship. When he didn't answer right away, Bulma repeated her question. "Well jackass, do we have what he wants?"

At her snide clip, Vegeta's head whipped around and he thrust his angry countenance into hers. "Yes." He hissed vehemently. Bulma's face clouded with anger and she notched her hands on her hips haughtily.

"Well give it to him." She demanded. Vegeta's eyes slit and he tried very hard to remember why he had walked away from the food merchant in the first place.

"I said the price was too high, woman." He snarled.

"I don't fucking care Vegeta. I'm so hungry right now I could eat my boot. Give the jerk whatever he wants and stop being such a greedy asshole. What the hell are you doing? Bargain shopping? I swear Vegeta, all you ever do is think about yourself. Whatever it is that he wants, it can't be that important. Just give it up to him. I have to eat sometime today, cause if I don't my stomach is going to start having mutinous thoughts towards my spleen, if you get my meaning. So stop being such a selfish bastard and get me some food." She finished her tirade by stomping her foot on the ground like a spoiled child, her lower lip extended into a full pout.

Vegeta grabbed her arm pulling her to him so he could lean down close to her. "Oh I'll give him what he wants alright, woman. And you are going to be sorry that I did." With that, he did an about face and swept Bulma through the crowd back to the vender. He stopped at the counter, reaching down to lift the end up and thrust Bulma into the arms of the man.

"Here, take the bitch. She deserves a good fucking." He growled remorselessly and slammed the counter back down, locking it into place.