Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Of Stars, Steam, and Pride ❯ 04 ( Chapter 4 )

Of Stars, Steam, and Pride

By LadyVegeets, (beta-read by Artephile / Marcella-Duchamp)

~Part 4~

“What the hell are you doing to her?” Raditz demanded, glowering hotly at Vegeta. “Why is she crying with you dragging her along?”

Vegeta lowered his raised hand, sneering at Raditz. “What difference does it make to you?”

Raditz dismissed Vegeta, looking directly at Bulma. His hand gently squeezing her arm. “Did he do something to you?” he asked.

Bulma's throat closed up, feeling overwhelmed, frozen in the midst of the ongoing chaos. Had Vegeta done anything to her? No, not exactly. Yet all she wanted to do was shy away from Vegeta, from the terrible thing he had done, what she had made him do because she hadn't been able to protect herself from the hysterical man.

The alarm peeled loudly overhead again. All three of them looked up, then back at each other, tense. Raditz pulled her closer. “I'll take her from here,” he told Vegeta. “I can protect her.”

“Like hell you can,” Vegeta snarled, tightening his hold on Bulma and tugging her back. “I wouldn't trust you with the life of a fly, let alone hers.”

“I'm doing you a favor,” Raditz insisted. “We all know how much you hate everyone. I can take her off your hands. She clearly doesn't want to be with you.”

“If she's unhappy with me, she's perfectly capable of speaking of it herself,” Vegeta snapped back.

His words were a slap in the face. Right, she did have a voice. “Would both of you unhand me?” Bulma asked. They looked at her, surprised, before guiltily letting her go.

“Bulma, come with me,” Raditz implored. “I have a space shuttle nearby, I can fit you and a few friends in there safely, but we have to go now.”

“Don't trust him,” Vegeta growled, his hands fisting at his sides. He looked at her, his eyes fierce, swimming with intensity. “I can get you to the wall. You have a responsibility, a duty to uphold.”

“Duty? To hell with that!” Raditz shouted back. “People are going to die! SHE is going to die, but I guess you don't care about that, all you care about is how you can use her as your tool. I can keep her alive.”

“For as long as it's convenient for you,” Vegeta snarled back.

“Would both of you SHUT UP!” Bulma demanded. She grabbed Raditz's hand, squeezing it, and looked into his large, soft eyes. “Thank you for coming for me. But Vegeta is right. If there's a chance I can save people, I have to try. I couldn't live with myself otherwise. Will you take Goku and Chi Chi to your shuttle?”

“If I can find them before it's too late,” Raditz said, sounding doubtful.

Bulma nodded. “Do your best. I have faith in you.” She gave him a warm smile and then let his hand go. He gave her a pained look.

She turned to Vegeta. He was watching her with calculating eyes. Where Raditz was emotional, Vegeta wasn't, single-mindedly focused on carrying out his mission, whatever that might be. Which is exactly what Bulma needed right now. She steeled her resolve, making her choice. “Get me to the wall and I will modify all the ki guards you could want,” she promised Vegeta.

She took his hand and his brow rose, but just as quickly he squeezed her hand back, his hold tightening so they wouldn't get separated. Vegeta turned about and led them forward through the throng of people making their escape. When Bulma glanced over her shoulder, Raditz was already gone.

They burst outside through the backdoor, and Vegeta led her through the garden to what appeared to be a secret exit. They came out onto a side street. He hurried them down the alleyways, sticking to the shadows, avoiding the major streets. People were panicked, boarding themselves up or trying to flee, frantic for an escape to a shuttle site. They were fighting, crying, hugging, looting, the threat of imminent death affecting even the most respectable citizens. It was chaos. Vegeta didn't falter, leading her down the quietest routes, glaring menacingly at anyone who looked at them for too long.

WREEEE! WREEEE! WREEEE!

They finally reached one of the wall's entrances. Bulma punched in her code to the door. She heard the cogs and wheels churn, but the door didn't open, refusing to accept her pin.

“What…?!” she protested. She tried again, but the door panel wouldn't open. Someone had changed the locks?

“What's the hold up?!” Vegeta snapped at her.

“I'm locked out!”

“Stand aside!” he barked at her, shoving her away. He tore off his glove and held out his hand, blasting a tiny ball of ki at the door handle. The ki sliced right through the handle like butter, and the door swung open.

Bulma was about to enter first, but Vegeta held her back. “I'll take point.”

“I know the way!”

“They locked you out. The enemy could be down there; they may have laid traps.”

“Oh…”

Vegeta went first and Bulma followed. They ran down the stairs, down through the underground corridors, Bulma directing Vegeta towards a nearby control panel. If there were any enemies below, she and Vegeta didn't encounter them.

WREEEE!!! WREEEE!!! WREEEE!!!

They finally reached the control panel. Bulma hurried to read the dials, trying to pinpoint the location of the problem. Seeing the results, she felt all the blood drain from her face. Bulma picked up the communicator and yelled into it, hoping some of the other engineers were at their stations. No one responded.

“Can you fix it?” Vegeta shouted at her over the alarm.

“There's… nothing to fix.”

“What?”

She tried punching in some of her codes, but the console wouldn't respond. She wiped the sweat beading on her brow, watching the dials sink lower and lower on the display.

“Bulma, what's wrong?” Vegeta insisted, the use of her first name grabbing her attention.

“They've changed all the codes. Not just for the doors, but the whole system! I… I can't get access. I can't stop it, I can't fix it.” Not in time, not without being at the central station that was half way around the other side of the city.

WREEEE. WREEEE. WREEEE. The alarm sounded sickly, not as piercing as it once had been, literally losing steam.

“You've got to do something!” Vegeta growled at her warningly, his voice holding an almost desperate tone.

“I can't.”

“Then I can. Tell me what to blow up!”

Bulma looked at the dials. They were almost at zero. Even now, the forcefield was probably flickering overhead the city skyline. It was game over.

WREEEE… WREEEE…

Vegeta's offer was futile. A ki attack wouldn't bring the systems back online. She felt a tear drip down her cheek, the oppressive weight of failure chilling her from the inside out. Vegeta was still waiting for her to reply, desperate to do something, destroy anything, to help.

“Me,” she whispered hollowly.

Vegeta looked at her, not comprehending her answer at first. Bulma gave him a sad, bitter smile. The desperate urgency in his eyes flickered out, dying, as he came to understand what she already knew.

It was over. She had failed.

They were all going to die.

WREEee… WREEee…

They had minutes at most. Slowly, Bulma approached him. Taking his hand, Bulma placed it over her chest. The metal of his gauntlet bit into her breast. Her heart was racing. His fingers curled over her heart. Their eyes met. She nodded at him. “It'll be quicker this way,” she whispered to him, cajoling.

Vegeta's face twisted in anguish, his teeth clenching. His other hand grabbed her about the waist, pulling her in against him. Strangely, she didn't mind. In fact, it was kind of nice…

Wreee…

Bulma closed her eyes, comforted to be held by him in their last moments. She let out a sigh, waiting for him to kill her mercifully.

There was a deep, barely audible moan as the wall lost all power, and then the world went very still. The lights flickered out. They were thrown into utter darkness and silence. It felt as if the whole world ended. Above, the atmosphere was no doubt escaping into space. Soon people would suffocate, themselves included.

“Do it, Vegeta,” Bulma whispered softly against his cheek. She breathed in the musky scent of him, relishing her last breaths of air.

His hand tightened on her waist, and he made a choking sound. “You… can't ask that of me…”

“You killed that man just before.”

“Bulma, please, I… I can't go through this again…”

Was his hand trembling over her chest, or was her heart just beating that fast? “Go through what?” she asked, growing annoyed by his hesitation. She opened her eyes to see him, despite the lack of light. “Why are you being so selfish? End it, Vegeta, I don't want to suffocate to death, it won't be pleasant. Just-”

One lone, tiny light glowed on the console. Bulma sucked in a breath of surprise. She grabbed Vegeta's hand, pushing it off her chest and she pulled out of his embrace. She fell to her knees by the console.

“LIGHT. MAKE A LIGHT.”

Vegeta came over, producing a ki ball in his palm for her to see by. Bulma pressed some buttons…

…The dials started responding.

She choked back a laugh.

“What is it?” he asked.

“The generators shut down. It wiped all the codes!” she said, half laughing, her hands shaking. She felt light headed, hysterical. No longer locked out, Bulma worked manically on getting power redirected back to their proper places. Hopefully it would be in time. It had to be. They were still breathing, weren't they? The whole planet couldn't have vented its air in only a couple of seconds, could it?

There was hissing and whining as the boilers burned and steam sung through the pipes once more. A few seconds later the lights flickered back on. Power was restored to the wall.

“Oh my god… We're alive!” Bulma exclaimed. She could hardly believe it. She looked over at Vegeta but her excitement instantly died when she saw him, or rather his back. He was already half way down the corridor, walking back to the stairs that would lead them up. Her excitement vanished.

How dare he.

How dare he not kill her. He would murder some poor man who had lost his mind in panic, but wouldn't grant her a merciful death?

What kind of monster was he?

“Hey, where are you going?” she shouted after him.

“To get my men and secure this shit hole of an outpost!” he shouted back at her, his voice hoarser than usual.

Bulma let him go, huffing. She grabbed the communicator and set it to all channels, announcing to the city that everything was under control and asking for all military personal available to report to Colonel Vegeta at the Bingley Estate. She smiled coldly, hoping her issuing orders on his behalf would piss him off.

Then she headed back up to the surface to face the fallout.

It took several hours for the city to recover from the shock of near extinction. Bulma checked on her estate and family first, glad to see everyone and thing was alright. She didn't linger, heading back to the Bingley estate as soon as possible. There was a small crowd of soldiers in military blues gathered, including Goku. Vegeta was barking stern orders at them, sending them out to scour the city, wanting to return order, and for the men to inspect the underground, ensuring no one was trying to interfere with the wall again. Bulma saw no sign of Raditz. No doubt he was conducting investigations of his own or reporting the whole event to the General.

The body of the man Vegeta had killed was carted off, to be properly buried at a later time. Bulma was surprised when, after making an inquiry, a soldier in blue told her Vegeta had admitted to the murder. The colonel claimed to have killed the man for trying to rape a guest during the chaos… When put like that, it sounded almost… noble. As if Vegeta's actions had been justified. Had she been wrong to so harshly judge Vegeta for killing the man? Bulma just didn't know.

“Bulma!” Chi Chi wailed, throwing herself at her friend. The two women hugged, consoling each other over their near death and laughing deliriously over their survival. “You saved us! You're a hero, a hero!” Chi Chi insisted.

Bulma tried to smile, but inwardly she felt a growing, swelling guilt. She very nearly hadn't saved them. In fact, she had given up on them, on life entirely. She had begged for death. From Vegeta of all people.

And Bulma had been far too terrifyingly okay with the notion of death. That's what haunted her the most. In her last moments she hadn't wept for her family, or for her friends, or for her home. She had wept for herself, knowing that her death meant so very little in the grand scheme of things, and she couldn't bare that. Couldn't bare the crushing weight of the mediocrity of her life. She had wanted Vegeta to end it before she had to suffer a long, drawn out death, choking on the thinning air and made to reflect on every miserable, mundane thing she had done with her existence, every missed opportunity, her dying thoughts filled with nothing but regrets.

“Bulma… What's… Oh honey…” Chi Chi crooned.

Bulma touched her cheek and felt tears streaming down her face without her knowing it. She couldn't stop them. She started sobbing. Chi Chi grabbed her up and took her to a side room so they could have some privacy.

“You must have been so scared,” Chi Chi tried to sympathize, petting her in a motherly fashion. “I know I was, and I didn't have the entire fate of the planet resting on my shoulders. I'm so glad I had Goku with me, he was such a comfort.”

Bulma squeezed Chi Chi, wanting to be happy for her friend, and she was, but she also felt jealous. Jealous that Chi Chi had found love when she hadn't, jealous that Chi Chi had spent her almost-last-moments with someone who comforted her, when Bulma had been stuck with a murderer who was terrible even at that, because he wouldn't even kill her out of kindness. And despite how much she loathed Vegeta, hated that he wouldn't even grant her the one, small mercy of a quick death, she had still been achingly, miserably happy he had been there with her, holding her, and that she wasn't going to have to die alone…

… How pathetic was that?

“You're so lucky to have Goku,” Bulma whispered, wiping away her tears, trying to find the good in the situation, at least for her friend's sake.

Chi Chi smiled at her, but there was the hint of pity in her eyes; she could tell Bulma was struggling with something bigger. “Yes, well, good for him you mean. Goku needs a woman to take care of him, and spend all this money he has, haha,” she said, trying to lighten the mood by joking.

“Bulma.” A harsh voice cut in. Both women startled and looked up, seeing Vegeta standing in the doorway, his face set sternly. He gave Chi Chi a cold glance, then looked over at Bulma. “I need a list of all authorized personnel who have access to the wall's tunnels.”

“Right,” Bulma said, looking away, ashamed to meet his gaze while she wept, after everything that had happened. “I'll be there in a moment.”

Vegeta left.

“Oh my god…” Chi Chi said, her voice tight. “Do you think he heard me… He knows I was joking, right?”

“I wouldn't hold your breath,” Bulma mumbled. “The man has no sense of humor. And absolutely no mercy.”

~xox~

After the fiasco of the second ball, Chi Chi left the Bingley estate to return to her own. She wanted to visit her father and give Goku time to carry out his military duties without distraction. Bulma was also busy, helping to reinstate better security and fix all the damage done to the wall. She didn't let on to anyone else, but she was worried. She prided herself on her advanced skills. On this planet there were few to none who could beat her in that regard. So how had someone bested her, twice no less, to bring down the wall's defenses? Who had the security clearance to lock her out of her own system? It was deeply troubling.

Bulma was puzzling this out, returning home from a long day of working in the oppressive heat of the city's underground, when Chi Chi came careening into her parlor. Her cheeks were streaked black from running mascara, weeping loudly.

“B-u-lma!” Chi Chi sobbed brokenly. She collapsed to the floor, bowing over, crying her tiny heart out. Bulma hurried to her, grabbing her trembling shoulders.

“Oh my god, Chi Chi, what happened?”

“He's g-o-ne!” Chi Chi wailed. “H-he didn't e-even say good-b-ye…!”

“What? Who?”

“G-o-ku!”

“What?”

Chi Chi sobbed miserably, barely able to speak, rocking back and forth, devastated. She held out a note and Bulma took it, reading it over, her eyes widening as she did so. It wasn't even written from Goku, but from an attendant, the language incredibly formal and dismissive, telling Chi Chi that Goku had to leave the Bingley estate due to work and that it was uncertain when he would return, if at all.

Bulma read the lines out loud, appalled. “It is also Son's heartfelt wish to improve his training, and as such, has little time or inclination to be dallying with frivolous courtships…”

Chi Chi wailed pathetically.

“Oh Chi Chi…” Bulma stammered. “It's… I mean… He clearly didn't write this. Anyone could see how much he adored you.”

Chi Chi shook her head, covering her face with a handkerchief, beside herself with grief. “Wh-what did I do? W-was it something I did? S-said? W-wore?”

“No honey, it couldn't be,” Bulma replied, hugging her friend and letting Chi Chi cry on her shoulder. “There must be some misunderstanding. We'll get it sorted.”

“I c-can't do this, Bulma,” Chi Chi weeped, clinging to Bulma. “How can I go on when h-he doesn't love me…!”

Bulma held Chi Chi for a long time until her friend had exhausted herself. Bulma prayed that whatever had happened to send Goku away, it wouldn't be for long.

~xox~

Raditz visited early the next day. “Can I steal you away for a few hours?” he asked Bulma in way of greeting, giving her a winning smile.

Bulma returned it with a tired one. Consoling Chi Chi had been exhausting. On top of her own worries and work regarding the wall, she had had little time to sleep. “Where to?” she asked.

“Space,” Raditz grinned, his eyes dancing mischievously. “The General would like to meet you.”

Bulma felt her mouth part in shock. “…What?”

Raditz winked at her. “General Frieza is worried about the recent events from this outpost, but he's very impressed with your work and the parts you've played.” He looked her over, smiling. “Do you have something elegant to put on? He's a stickler for appearances.”

An hour later, after she had changed and they had traveled to the launch site, Bulma found herself getting into her first shuttle. Her heart was beating wildly. She had always dreamed of going into space, going off world, but such transportation was usually reserved for officers and people of great importance. While Bulma's family was well off and integral to this little planet's society, she was practically an unknown in the galactic social circles and had never had the opportunity.

Until now. General Frieza of De Burgh wanted to speak to her.

Personally.

…Holy shit.

Bulma couldn't stop looking, her head twisting this way and that, torn about what she should give her attention to. She wanted to examine the shuttle. She wanted to look out the window as they left the atmosphere, passing through the forcefield once they had received clearance to do so. She wanted to stare at the handsome man who watched her, grinning at her enthusiasm, happy to be the one to show her a whole new world. Bulma didn't know what to do with herself. And on top of all the excitement, she was nervous about her upcoming audience. Bulma was a confident woman, but speaking to the General of the Galactic Armies was no small thing.

And neither was his armada. Frieza's space ship was huge, a giant floating blimp in the deep of space. Other ships of all shapes and sizes floated nearby, like pilot fish clinging to a shark. Bulma wanted to weep for the technology she could learn and explore there. She had heard stories about other outposts, of greater size and importance to her own, using technologies and energies more efficient than steam. Bulma was chomping at the bit to learn all about them.

When they arrived on the large blimp, Raditz led her through a myriad of passageways, taking her deeper and deeper inside the massive spacecraft. Finally, they stood outside giant doors. An attendant opened them, announcing both her and Raditz to the room.

At the very end, sitting in a tall, white chair, was the General. Frieza was much smaller than she had anticipated. His skin was very pale, almost translucent. His jacket was also not a military blue, but a deep, royal purple and gold. His eyes were small and narrow, and they watched her in a way that made Bulma's skin crawl as she and Raditz approached his seat. He was more imposing than she had feared.

“General, Sir, this is the young lady I spoke to you about,” Raditz introduced deferentially. “Miss Bulma Briefs.”

“The one who has managed to stay one step ahead of some nefarious enemy interference?” Frieza asked, his voice languid, sinuous. “Most clever.” His eyes took her in from head to toe, and his lips curled. “I like clever. Clever is useful.”

Bulma enjoyed being flattered, being appreciated, especially for her intelligence. She did not enjoy this. Not one bit. Frieza made her feel like she was a piece of meat being sized up.

She was spared his gaze when a knock came at the door. An attendant announced another visitor. “Colonel Vegeta.”

Bulma's eyes widened and she turned around as Vegeta stormed in. He marched in resolutely, but his step faltered when he spotted her, not having expected her there.

Frieza's sharp eyes didn't miss their surprise. “You two know each other?” he asked keenly, and before either could reply, he grinned. “Of course you do. You're stationed on her planet, are you not, Vegeta?”

“Correct,” Vegeta replied as he approached. He chose to stand next to Bulma rather than Raditz, throwing the man an unpleasant glare.

“Raditz was just introducing this enterprising young woman to me,” Frieza purred, looking amused about something. “Apparently she's been quite integral in the outpost's defenses. Maybe you could learn something from her, Vegeta, seeing as you've allowed the outpost to come under attack, twice, since your short appointment there.”

Vegeta's jaw tensed, his brow pulling down. “Yes, sir. She's a credit to her outpost.”

“Oh my. Flattery, from Vegeta…?” Frieza's eyes swiveled away from Vegeta, back onto Bulma. “Most amusing. Tell me, Miss Briefs. How have you managed to impress my men so much?”

Bulma cleared her throat, and as succinctly as possible, told Frieza about her role in the recent attacks, and her faculty with machinery. Frieza nodded, listening to her patiently and with great attention.

“So you're a creator too?” he asked, when she mentioned as much.

Bulma felt her heart swell at the opportunity to brag to the General. “Yes, Sir. It's a dream of mine to shift away from maintenance and work on inventions more. I've actually been working on an idea for ki armor that-”

“Indeed?” Frieza asked, leaning forward, his interest clearly piqued.

“All theoretical,” Vegeta quickly interrupted, giving Bulma a sharp look.

Bulma looked back at him, puzzled. “What? No. I have a prototype. I showed it to you.”

“And it didn't work,” Vegeta grit out between clenched teeth.

“But-”

“Pity,” Frieza sighed. “Do you still have it?”

“I…” she stammered, seeing her opportunity to impress slipping between her fingers. “No… I auctioned it off to charity…”

“How unfortunate,” Frieza said, sitting back, losing interest. “Well, Miss Briefs, would you excuse us? I wish to speak to my men. It's been a pleasure.”

Bulma forced a smile and stiffly curtsied, leaving the audience chamber. She was fuming, feeling she had just lost out on a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to advance her career. To get off her planet and make something of herself. But then Vegeta had lied and ruined it all for her. And what could she do? Throw a fit, call Vegeta a liar? She doubted the General would tolerate such a scene, or believe some nobody outpost engineer over one of his own officers. How she loathed that man!

As soon as the doors shut behind her Bulma stomped off to the nearest observation deck. If she was going to be kept waiting, stewing, she would at least do so while watching the galaxy.

A large windowed wall allowed her to see the outside world. The view of space was breath-taking, the ship shrouded in inky blackness. Stars and planets glittered in the sky, hundreds of light years away, and there she stood, tiny and insignificant and trapped. Bulma's hands curled against the thick glass, which was as cold an unyielding as Vegeta himself.

“What the HELL are you doing here?” Vegeta's sudden voice made her jump.

She looked over her shoulder at him, scowling. “I was invited here.”

“Do you have any idea how dangerous it is…” Vegeta trailed off, running a hand over his face in agitation. He then pulled it away, giving her an irritated, haggard look. “I can't believe you told him about the vest!”

“Why wouldn't I?” she spat back, turning around to face him. “And why did you lie about it! That was my big chance to -mph!” she squealed as he put his hand over her mouth, muffling her words and shoving her back up against the glass. Her eyes widened in surprise, looking at Vegeta in alarm.

“Shut up, you stupid girl. Even now they could be listening.”

Who? What?

The glass behind her was cold, freezing, but he was fire. Even through his uniform Bulma could feel the heat radiating from Vegeta's body as he pressed against her. He was all muscle, hard and unforgiving, and it stirred up all sorts of confusing feelings inside of her. Rage, mostly rage, she told herself weakly even as she found her body melting against him.

He slowly removed his hand from her mouth. She gasped for air, surprised at how shallow she was breathing, like she had been running. His thumb traced her bottom lip. “Why do you always seek to vex me?” he asked her, his voice surprisingly soft. She met his eyes. His dark, obsidian gaze reflected the galaxy back to her, and in their depths she saw something aching, conflicted… yearning.

“Do I?” she asked uncertainly, barely able to form words.

He frowned, but it was more puzzled than angry. His eyes fell to her mouth, lingering on her lips, and she felt her breath catch, her fingers curling against his jacket.

And then he stepped back, releasing her. Bulma lay against the glass window, gasping for air, her body trembling. He turned his back to her so she couldn't see his face.

“Say nothing more than what they ask you if you value your life,” he told her, and then left.

Bulma watched him go, utterly bewildered at him, and at herself.

It was another ten minutes before Raditz was finished with Frieza and found her. He guided her back to their shuttle.

“The General was very impressed,” Raditz told her.

“Was he?” Bulma asked dully. She hadn't got that impression, and her interaction with Vegeta had left her utterly confused, Frieza now far from her thoughts.

“Very,” Raditz confirmed. He leaned in conspiringly. “I shouldn't be telling you this, but Frieza asked me to keep an eye on you, and if you continue to impress, he might consider recruiting you for our science division.”

That gave her pause. Although the prospect elated her, her heart just wasn't quite in it. Not after Vegeta's warning.

Raditz noticed. “What's wrong, I… I thought you'd be more excited.”

“I am, no!” Bulma hurried to assure him. “It's just… I'm worried about my friend,” she lied.

“The injured one?”

“Well, yes, but she's not injured now… at least, not physically. Emotionally. She's been jilted… She thought it was true love.”

“Ouch,” Raditz sympathized. “Who's the rogue?”

“Goku Son.”

“Goku?!” Raditz paused, and Bulma saw something flash in his gaze. He knew something.

“What! What is it?” she insisted.

Raditz made a face, looking away awkwardly. “You're… not going to like this.”

“No shit! Tell me!” Bulma demanded, her mind already going to the worst case scenarios. Was Goku known for breaking hearts? Did he have a dark side she was unaware of? It hardly seemed possible, but she hadn't known him very long, had she? “Does he have a reputation? He seemed so nice.”

“No, not Goku, he's a peach,” Raditz said, waving away her concerns about Goku dismissively. “No, I'm referring to our mutual friend.”

It took Bulma a moment to catch on. “…Vegeta?”

Raditz nodded. “Just now when we were talking to Frieza. Vegeta informed the General that he and Goku had moved to the Darcy estates, because Goku was about to piss away his fortune on some leeching social climber.” Raditz helped up his hands. “His words, not mine.”

Bulma felt like she was falling. She was falling down a very dark tunnel of emotional turmoil, and when she hit the bottom she exploded into a well of rage.

She was consumed by it the entire shuttle ride home. Every feeling she had ever had for Vegeta that wasn't loathing - any moments of empathy, or admiration, or interest, or even attraction, Bulma took all those little kindnesses and crushed them until there was nothing left but powdery revulsion. Vegeta had broken Chi Chi's heart, and in doing so, had hardened her own against him.

Vegeta was dead to her.

~xox~

A few days later Bulma received a call to a mechanical emergency at the clock tower. She took her carriage. Bulma was happy for the excuse to be out of her house. Dealing with Chi Chi moping around, day in and out, was getting exhausting, and at work at the wall, Raditz stuck to her side. As charming as he was, between entertaining him and trying to cheer up Chi Chi, Bulma had little time to herself to think or work on her own projects, much less deal with the swelling emotional time bomb she could feel ticking inside of her. A lot had happened lately and she had barely the chance to deal with any of it.

Bulma reached the clock tower and saw it had been roped off. Seeing as she was there to fix it, she let herself in and headed up to the top where all the machinery was. She looked around and called out, but couldn't see any staff.

Huh. Odd.

Perhaps they trusted her to just get the job done on her own. Bulma moved around the giant cogs and tried to locate the problem.

“Bulma.”

“Aah!” She screamed, jumping back, clutching her chest and shooting the dark silhouette an angry glare. “Vegeta?! Holy shit, you scared me.”

He stepped out from the shadows. He wasn't in his military blues, dressed in a dark, dapper suit. His expression was serious as always, but he looked almost… anxious. “I had to call you here because I couldn't be certain if they were listening in at our estates. Even the walls have ears.”

Bulma let her hand drop from her chest, giving Vegeta an incredulous look. “What the hell are you going on about? You sound like a crazy person.”

“You wouldn't be wrong,” he replied, his tone unusually self-deprecating.

Bulma looked around. The whirr of the clock tower's mechanics sounded smooth to her ears, filling the silence with a comforting, rhythmic noise. “So there's nothing wrong with the tower?”

“No. It was a ruse to speak to you alone.”

Great. She had half a mind to just leave, but Bulma doubted Vegeta would be so obliging. Better to get this over with. “Well then, speak,” she said, crossing her arms.

Vegeta hesitated. He looked at her, then away, scowling.

The clacking and whirring of machinery droned on.

Bulma sighed. “Well?”

“You never answered me before,” he said, looking out at the view of the city from the tower. “If you found it satisfying being here.”

Bulma frowned, glaring at him. That stupid question again, that damned, stupid question that had been haunting her most of her life. No, she wasn't satisfied. Recent events had made that abundantly clear. But she didn't owe this man anything, certainly not an answer to so private a question. “What's it to you?”

“What if I can give you a way off this planet?”

Bulma looked at him coldly, not daring to hope, waiting for him to explain.

“I have an old shuttle,” he said. “The military thinks it was destroyed, so they won't come looking for it. I need someone who can fix it up, and keep it working even in the dead of space. Someone smart, and strong-willed. Someone who also seeks something more than this vile place can offer.”

Bulma felt the color drain from her face. What he was suggesting was… “That's treason.” To not only steal from the militia, but to abandon his post. To flee her outpost without permission? They could be executed!

“Yes,” he admitted simply, looking at her, directly into her eyes, pinning her in place with his frankness. “I know you're inferior to me in many ways. People consider you little more than a wealthy, hobby-mechanic, one who is too opinionated to ever find a husband. That's irrelevant. I'm proposing to free you, free us, from this shit hole of a life.”

Bulma scowled, her annoyance at his insults building inside her, rising to the surface.

“I know it's a lot to ask,” he continued. “And I promise we would leave in a way to spare any repercussions against your family and-”

“No.”

“…What?”

“I said no,” she repeated, looking back at him, her eyes sparking with anger. “There is nothing you could remotely say that would convince me to run away with an unfeeling, murdering, prideful sonovabitch like you. You are the last person I would want to be stuck in space with, freedom or not.”

“…What?” he repeated, still dumbfounded.

“Are you really so surprised?” She asked, mockingly. “After acting like such an uncivil ass at every opportunity? After ruining my best friend's life!”

“Ruining… That girl?”

“Who else?!” She shouted, indignant. “I mean, did you or did you fucking not separate Chi Chi and Goku because you thought she was after his money?”

Vegeta scowled, his temper starting to rise. “And if I did? Kakarot is a soft-hearted fool. I was protecting him from your shameless friend.”

“Shameless! She is IN LOVE with him!”

“You mean his money. I heard what she said to you.”

“No!” Bulma shouted back, tearing at her hair. “She was jesting to make me feel better after-” Nearly getting raped. Nearly dying. Nearly giving myself to you… Bulma's face twisted in anguish. “After that horrible night! If she wanted money she could have had it from me, you moron! But she's never asked, not once, you insufferable snob!”

Vegeta looked away, his lips thinning, actually appearing contrite. “I…”

“And that's another thing!” Bulma added, on a roll now. “Your inability to see the good in people. You think yourself so much better, superior to everyone else. How could I possibly fly off into the unknown when I fear you'll leave by the wayside for the first mistake I make? Just look at Raditz.”

Vegeta's lip curled up instantly at the man's name, and he gave her a threatening look. “What about Raditz?”

Bulma raised her chin. “You've never given him another chance.”

“You're still woefully ignorant if you think he deserves another chance after what he did,” Vegeta sneered contemptuously.

Bulma rolled her eyes. “Well you know what, Vegeta? You were his superior at the time. Which means any mistake he made is your mistake too. Isn't that how it works?”

Vegeta went very still, his eyes boring into her, something grief-stricken flashing in his dark gaze.

Bulma started to feel her superiority crumble.

“…So your answer is `no', then,” he finally said, his voice whisper cold.

She swallowed, and nodded. “It is.”

Vegeta's jaw worked, his hands fisting. “…I could make you.”

“Go ahead and try.”

They stood there, the seconds ticking by in the old clock tower, neither making a move.

Bulma finally picked up her bag, and gave him her back, calling his bluff. “Goodbye, Vegeta.”

“Bulma…” he pleaded, his voice raw. She looked over her shoulder at him, but he was looking down at the floor. “My life is in your hands,” he said. They both knew if she spoke of this to anyone, Vegeta would be executed. “Just like your life was in mine that night…”

Bulma looked away from him, overwhelmed at the reminder of when she had begged him to kill her; it was too intimate a memory to face right now. “I've seen what you've done when you've held life in your hands,” she replied coldly. “Everything you touch, you destroy.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, as soon as she saw the way he flinched at them, Bulma wished she could take them back.

“…I see,” he said, his voice small. “I thank you then for your consideration.” He brushed past her, leaving her standing at the top of the clock tower alone, awash with regret and emotions she couldn't comprehend. She should have been happy he left, but when he did something broke inside of her, and she was overcome with despair. Bulma crumpled to the floor and cried, high above the city she both loved and loathed, a city she had spent her whole life protecting while at the same time wishing she could escape. She had just killed her one chance to finally leave it.

~0x0x0~

AN: Phew. This one needed more editing than the others!

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Amazing fanart for this story so far by GalacticShark17, Artephile / Marcella-Duchamp, Rutbisbe, Stupidoomdoodles, VegetaPsycho and RedViolett. Check `em out!!! :D