Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Persuading the Enemy ❯ More than Persuading ( Chapter 3 )

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

A/N: I've had the first 2000words of this chapter sitting on my computer for like 3 months now and I was really afraid that the 4000words I added to it wouldn't flow right, but I think it turned out rather well. Well, it turned out better than I had thought, and about 2000words longer than I had expected. SO, enjoy this nice long chapter ^^ It's full of good plot points that will be explained further in the next chapter, hopefully XD
I also have to give a big shout-out to my friend "SuperKamiGuru" for his help with getting me through the plot and the dialogue for Roshi/Korin/Popo!
'Single Quotes' = ThoughtsItalics = Telepathy
Disclaimer: I do NOT own DBZ or any of the characters. They belong to Akira Toriyama.

Bulma looked down at her trembling fingers as she walked along the short hall and into the small laundry room. What the hell had she been thinking touching Vegeta like that?! He was still an enemy….sort of. She groaned as she opened the door to the dryer, then to the washer. She reached in and grabbed the navy blue battle suit that belonged to Vegeta.

She shook her head. She had Yamcha! Her loving, caring, sexy boyfriend! Bulma shook out the suit—un-wrinkling it--before throwing it into the dryer. Of course, she had broken up with the eye-wandering bandit before he had died and never got a chance to reconcile their differences. Then having to go and pick up his broken and battered corpse from the battlefield was something she hadn’t been ready to experience either.

She reached into the washer again, pulling out her mini-dress. Once again, she shook the garment out before tossing it into the dryer. Would it be cheating if she had a little fling with Vegeta? She shook her head a little more vigorously than the last time, letting a growl slip past her parted lips. It didn’t fucking matter! Nothing was going to happen between her and Vegeta! No matter how sexy and alluring that overgrown monkey was, or how seductive and challenging his methods were!

“How much longer will this take?”

The growl came from the doorway of the small room, making Bulma jump. She turned to look at the man that had just been occupying her thoughts. “Oh, um, I guess around 45 minutes to an hour,” her voice was surprisingly gentle yet strong as she answered.

She looked back into the washer to see her undergarments and another pair of black underwear. She looked back to Vegeta, who had moved from the doorway and was looking at the few shelving units that adorned the room. She quickly scooped up the undergarments and chucked them into the dryer along with the other pieces that were already in there. She closed the washer’s lid, then the dryer’s door before turning the knob on the dryer to set the timer. After doing so, she spun around to see an opened case in Vegeta’s hand.

Dark eyes narrowed as they fixed onto a capsule that was marked with a skull. If the capsule held such dangerous contents, why was she carrying it around with her? Was this capsule made differently from the rest? If so….

Bulma stood on her tiptoes and tipped her head to the side to look around his body at what he was looking at. Upon seeing the middle capsule in the case, she panicked. She caught her breath before it could escape in a frightened squeak. Of the five cases he could’ve picked up, he picked that one! What a lucky son-of-a-bitch! Of course, he didn’t know that he was staring his prize right in the face. No, he didn’t, did he?

She swallowed the fear and anxiety that was creeping up her throat as she gathered her wits and stamped down the thoughts of her ex-boyfriend (cheater or not) because she had to distract this horrible and somewhat attractive man. She moved forward, feet wanting to drag but she took her strides like the woman she was: Confident, strong-willed, and sexy. She pressed herself against his back, her breasts wanting to pop out of the flimsy bra she had thrown on. Her left hand slipped down his back to smooth over his ass as her chin rested on his right shoulder. Her right hand moved up to gently touch his bicep.

Vegeta almost choked on the saliva he was swallowing when she had pressed against him suddenly. Her softer body melding into his harder muscles, her breath hit his neck, ear, and face as she rested her chin on him. The slight tickling sensation of her fingers ghosting over his cloth covered bottom and bicep sent a straightening tingle up his spine.  If he was a man of baser instincts, he might’ve fallen for her little trap. Since he wasn’t, his immediate response was to pick up on the hint that he had stumbled across something he wasn’t supposed to find--the Dragonball. A dark smirk spread across his lips as her breath zeroed-in on his ear.

“Would you like to continue now?”

He let out a light snort as he started to pull away from her touch. “You’re really starting,” the words died in his throat, and his head--which had been turning to look at her--turned toward the ceiling. His eyes roved over the rounded surface as if searching for something, making her finally pull back from him. The case in his hand was hurriedly placed back on a shelf before he turned and dashed from the room.

Bulma looked after him, a confused look overtaking her features, before she turned back to the case he had laid down. Her fingers rested on the slightly warmed object before her head was once again jerked in the direction Vegeta had run--outside. A loud shout had her feet moving towards the door in a sprint, only to be knocked down as she entered the living room. Landing back on her tailbone, she let out a small cry of pain before looking up at Vegeta. “What the hell was that about?” A hand wiped across her face to discard the tears brimming her eyes at the pain on her backside.

“One of Frieza’s scouts,” he bit out before reaching down to haul her up by the collar of her oversized T-shirt. “Lucky for us their scouters have already been disposed of.”

Her hands rested on his forearms so she could steady herself, although earning a dangerous glare from the hostile alien. “If they don’t have their scouters, then that means they can’t communicate back to Frieza or their other teammates, right?” Her hands dropped from his arms and she was about to pull away fully until the grip on her shirt held her still. “So what’s the problem?” His eyes showed nothing but coldness and malice towards her as she finally stood still.

“The problem,” he spit, “is that there will most likely be more, and with this domed house we’re a big fucking target.”

“You already took out Frieza’s strongest bodyguards, did you not?” she hissed back. “So don’t tell me you can’t take out a few lackeys that come lurking about.” Her hands moved back up to try and pry the fingers from her shirt as they pulled her closer.

“You’re not listening, girl, and I’m tired of playing games with you.”

The tip of his nose brushed hers before he loosened his hold. Bulma landed on her butt again as her head swiveled to watch him walk back through the capsule house. “HEY!” She quickly pushed herself up and started to follow him, and with quick and heavy steps she caught up to him as he entered the laundry room again.

Vegeta grabbed the case he had been inspecting before the scout had appeared. He turned back to face her; their eyes locked for a few unknowing seconds before he moved toward her to exit the room again. He casually grabbed her wrist as he passed her by.

Her feet dragged and tripped as he started pulling her. “What,” she started as she tried to pull out of his hold, “are you doing? Let me go!” Her heart was now racing as the little bit of panic settled back in as his grip tightened around her wrist.

“Stop squirming, girl, or you’ll break that fragile little bone,” he growled, not even looking back at her as he exited the house.

Bulma lost her footing for a second as she tripped over the rise of the entryway. She was dragged a few paces away from the house, until she finally got her feet back under her. By that time, Vegeta had stopped at the entrance of the crevice in the plateau and was clicking the top of the capsule.

He tossed the capsule a few feet away, not trusting the device or what could potentially be stored in it and watched as the smoke quickly cleared to reveal a rounded safe-like object. His grip tightened around the girl’s wrist as he flung her forward.

Bulma fell on her hands and knees before turning to give a dirty look at Vegeta. “What the hell?! Is it impossible for you to ask?!” she snarled as she picked herself back up and dusted off her hands and knees, which were both red and sore. She tried not to wince as she saw the scraps she’d obtained on her knees, so she focused her hate on the male before her.

Before she could open her mouth again, Vegeta lifted a hand and raised two fingers to send a small ki blast at her feet. “Open it, girl,” was the only warning she received before another ball of ki collected on his outstretched fingers.

She jumped back, her hands clutching the front of her sleep shirt. She carefully took a few steps back before her foot came in contact with a small rock. She sucked in a breath of air as her leg almost gave out on her, but she held up a hand as she steadied herself. “I’ll open the damn safe, just, don’t shoot at me again.”

His aim stayed steady as he followed her movements to the rounded safe. His eyes stared intently at her back as she punched in a sequence of numbers on a keypad, then bent down slightly to turn the dial of another lock, before finally opening the door to reveal his prize.

She had barely gotten herself turned around when Vegeta snatched the Dragonball from her hands. She watched as his face lit up with something akin to happiness and victory as he inspected the four-star Dragonball. Now that all seven Dragonballs were together, she rolled her eyes. Perhaps the Dragonballs here wouldn’t even work the same as Earth’s. Bulma certainly hoped that was the case, or else there would be an eternally young Saiyan on their hands.

“Girl! Tell me how these things work.”

The demand caught her half off-guard, but upon meeting his once-again serious gaze she stiffened. “Well,” she swallowed the small lump that was building in her throat, “I know of how they work on Earth, but that’s not guaranteeing that it’ll work the same way here, on Namek.” As his eyes narrowed, she started again, “So, if it doesn’t work, you’re not allowed to hurt me.”

He scoffed at her, directed his attention to the Dragonball in his hands before looking back at her. “Tell me everything you know, and I might let you live if this doesn’t work. Of course, that’s a mighty big ‘if’.”

She gave him a sideways glance as she started to walk past him. “Well, first and foremost,” she shot her sight to the orange-starred ball, “all seven Dragonballs must be touching each other.”

His mind rang with alarm bells: too easy! “Just touching each other?” he asked skeptically.

She gave a short nod. “Yeah, at least on Earth that’s how it worked.” She watched as he finally made his way over to the crevice where the other six Dragonballs were stored and set the seventh one down alongside the others. “Then, you just call out the Dragon.”

He straightened his back, his eyebrows raised as his eyes widened. “Dragon?” he almost shouted.

She couldn’t help the tiny bit of confidence that re-entered her system and turned the corner of her lips up. “Yeah, what did you think would happen?” she asked, almost mockingly at his surprised expression. “That you could just make your wish and it would automatically take effect?”

His expression quickly darkened again as he approached her. When she backed up a few paces, he smirked. “So this Dragon, how do you call it out?” his tone a bit rougher with anger.

“You just call out the Dragon’s name and ask him to come out.” She gave a short shrug as her hands rose in the air in front of her. “That’s it, I swear. At least that’s how it worked on Earth.”

He scoffed, his arms crossing over his chest. “Sounds far too easy. Not even a password on these things.”

“Well,” Bulma began as she watched him, “on Earth the Dragonballs are scattered across the entire planet, usually hidden from view or someplace hard to reach. I’m the only one that has the Dragonball radar.” A cocky grin appeared briefly before she continued, “Also ‘normal’ humans can’t fly on their own, which would make getting the ones up high another seemingly impossible task. So, you see, on Earth the real test is just finding and retrieving the Dragonballs.” She let out a small sigh. “And the Dragonballs aren’t nearly as large as these. Earth’s Dragonballs are small enough to fit in your hand.” She looked down at her own hand, squeezing the appendage into a fist.

He snorted, turning back towards the Dragonballs. “So what’s this Dragon’s name?”

“Shenlong. Again, that’s the Earth’s Dragon’s name,” she reminded him that the location could have a difference. She watched as he bent and arranged the Dragonballs into position.

Vegeta took a few steps back after making sure the Dragonballs were set before shooting a glance back at the girl.

“What?” Bulma felt a shiver go down her spine as his eyes pinned her down. “Are you going to summon the Dragon?” she did her best to keep her tone neutral, but was getting a little irritated at the way he was going about doing things.

“Keep your mouth shut, girl. If I hear so much as a peep from you; I won’t hesitate in blasting you.” To prove his point, he gathered a small ki ball and sent the blast soaring past her head.

Bulma huddled on the ground, her hands tucking behind her head. “You bastard!” she shouted as her heart hammered in her chest. She lifted her head to give him the full effect of her infuriated gaze.

With one hand pointed back towards the blue-haired girl, he turned to face the Dragonballs once more. “Dragon Shenlong, come out and grant my wish,” his tone commanded.

After a few seconds, Bulma’s eyes went wide. There was no light coming from the Dragonballs! Where was the darkening sky? She watched as the back and shoulders in front of her tensed. “There’s no light!” she suddenly shouted before tucking her head back down, ready for the oncoming blast. Instead all she heard was the light sounds of shuffling.

“What?” Vegeta barked as he once again turned his head to look at her. A small smirk turned one corner of his lips up as he saw her hunkering on the ground.

One eye squinted open, then the other. Her head shot up, once again catching his eyes before finally pushing herself up. “There’s no light coming from the Dragonballs,” her voice low and a little nervous.

“And what the fuck does that mean?” He had all seven Dragonballs; he called the Dragon’s name, what else was there?!

“Well,” she started thoughtfully, unconcerned with the threat Vegeta still was, “on Earth the Dragonballs would begin to flash with light and the sky would go dark when the summoning worked.”

“So you’re saying the summoning you told me won’t work?” he half-growled. The hand that had been focused on the girl balled into fist.

She gave a short nod. “I told you before these are different than Earth’s. The size is the only physical difference, but that could mean they have a different Dragon, too.” She took a few cautious steps forward, and upon noticing her alien companion not tensing, she continued toward the Dragonballs. She squatted in front of the three-starred one and smoothed her hand over the surface. “Hell, they could have to be in a certain sequence, and there could even be a password on these suckers.”

Vegeta watched her, reading her, as she hunched over the magic ball and continued to talk—mostly to herself. “What now? You’ve exhausted all the excuses of needing to stay alive.”

Bulma quickly and sharply turned her head, pulling a muscle in the process. A hand reached up to massage the cramping muscle as she pushed herself back up to stand. “Then just do it,” she growled, tired of playing this game. “If you want me dead so much then do it! You have all the Dragonballs that won’t work! And you’re right, there’s not a damned thing I can do to help you!” A foot stomped on the barely grass-covered ground, small rocks and dirt clods pressing into the flesh. “Damn, Goku, couldn’t you get here faster?!” she cried out in frustration, hoping maybe that he’d feel doubly bad when he finally arrived and her body was a pile of ashes.

Vegeta’s head tilted slightly to the right at the younger Saiyan’s name. “Kakarot?” he asked lowly.

Of course, Bulma didn’t hear the question over her own ranting and raving. Her foot continued to grind against the ground and her curses towards Goku echoed in her head. After a few minutes of stomping and cursing, she quickly stopped as she realized she was still alive. She once again raised her head to look at Vegeta. “I, uh….”

“Kakarot’s coming here?” the anger and shock now gone from his voice as he’d waited for her to settle down.

“Uh, yeah. My dad said he’d be here in six days.”

That idiot was coming? It would be nice to have more help against Frieza, but if Kakarot did show up…what about his wish on the Dragonballs? His plans, his wish, would be fucked if that moron showed up before they could figure out how to use the Dragonballs! Vegeta felt his shoulders tense and his teeth ground together as he thought about the other Saiyan.

Bulma bit down on the end of her thumb nail as she watched Vegeta. The man seemed to be deep in thought about something, mostly likely the news of Goku. A tiny conceited smile flittered over her lips. Why hadn’t she thought of bringing Goku up before? She knew it was probably just luck that Vegeta was now too distracted to think about killing her, but she now had another chance. The smile faltered, turning her lips in a straight line again. Chance at what and just how much longer would it be until she did something else to piss the Saiyan off?

“So, Kakarot will arrive in about six days,” Vegeta began to mutter to himself. A hand rose to cup under his chin in a thoughtful gesture. “And, you,” he snorted in disdain, “some expert you turned out to be on the Dragonballs. Back to square one unless you know of someone else who would be more knowledgeable on the subject.” The girl said she’d been in contact with her father, meaning that she had to have some sort of communicating device on her.

Bulma released her nail and threw her head to the left with a heavy huff. “More knowledgeable than me? I’m the one that built the Dragonball radar!” She opened her eyes to look at Vegeta from the corner of her eye. “I’d say there are only like two maybe three more people that would know more.”

An internal smirk lit his eyes, even though the rest of his face stayed emotionless. “Do you have a way to contact these people?”

She lowered her head again, a little suspicious of his neutral attitude. “Yeah, I’ve got a phone I can call them with.”

“Good, do it.” When the girl didn’t move, he let out a slight growl. “Be quick! And you should know better than to say that you’re with me.”

She gave a slight nod. “Of course. What exactly would they be able to do anyway?” She started back toward the capsule house, intent on getting her radio and phoning Roshi. As she walked past Vegeta, he caught her by the bicep.

“Witnessing what you humans are capable of when you choose to use your intelligence,” he started darkly, “I won’t be taking your ‘friends’ lightly. So just keep your mouth shut about you coming to find me.”

She pulled her arm from his grip. “Right, I get it.” Bulma once again turned her nose in the air as she stalked away. Once inside the house and in the laundry room, she let out a heavy breath—one she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. “Damn Saiyan. Damn Goku. Damn Namek!” she cursed to herself as she retrieved the capsule that held the satellite phone. She squeezed the tiny device in her hand, being sure not to press the release button on top, and looked down at her skinned knees. She really needed to clean them, but it would have to wait until after the phone call. Hopefully by then the clothes would be dry enough to wear.

As soon as she stepped outside, Bulma popped the capsule open and tossed it a foot away from her. Vegeta remained where he was, in front of the Dragonballs. His arms were crossed, feet shoulder-width apart. Narrowed eyes watched her as she went to the shelving unit and grabbed what he assumed was the phone she was talking about. He huffed at the bulky and heavily wired item.

“Earth’s technology,” Vegeta scoffed as he watched her set the device up. “How you even managed to make it into space is beyond me,” he muttered mostly to himself, but still loud enough for her to hear it.

She ignored his snide comments as she continued setting up her equipment. Of course, afterwards she strode back over the shelving unit and picked up another device. She turned the earpiece around her hands, inspecting what she’d already managed to fix on the handheld communication device. “Yes, your alien technology is much more interesting.” She smirked when she looked at him. “It’s a shame we were in a rush to get here after your departure.”

Vegeta finally stepped forward, walking over to her and snatching the broken scouter from her hand. “Raditz’s?” he questioned as he glanced over the device. “What happened to it?”

“Goku.” She gave him a wide smile, her hands clasping behind her back. “I only had time to reattach the eyepiece.”

“Can you fix it completely?” He handed the item back to her and re-crossed his arms.

Bulma shrugged as she placed the scouter back on the shelf. Getting back on task, she headed back over to the satellite phone. “What good would it do us?”

“Frieza can’t live without his scouter, I’m sure he’s already ordered new ones to brought here,” Vegeta answered lowly as she turned on the phone.

“Oh.” A frown marred her features as she picked up the receiver and began trying to connect with Roshi’s phone. “Well, I suppose I could try to….” A hand was suddenly clamped over her mouth from behind and the receiver was snatched from her hand.

“Lord Frieza has requested that the Ginyu Force is to bring him new scouters to location: Planet Namek,” the voice on the phone said. Static cut through the line before a garbled “five day’s trip” was heard. Static took over once again, and then a ringing sound started coming in clearer.

Vegeta handed the receiver back over to Bulma, although he stayed close enough so that he would be able to hear the conversation. He was given a curious but dirty look as the girl took the phone and put the receiver over her ear, only to have Vegeta pull it back a ways so he would be able to listen in on the information she would be given.

Bulma narrowed her eyes as she waited for the ringing to stop and for the turtle hermit to pick up. It was bad enough she was going to have deal with the old pervert, but with Vegeta literally breathing down her neck! She sighed and reigned in her anger as the line continued to ring.

“Hello!” Roshi’s voice rang through loud and clear.

Not one for formalities Bulma quickly interjected, “I’ve got some questions…” Her lining of questions was shot down as the voice on the other end continued.

“You have reached the reservation desk for Turtle Island Maidens Retreat.” Roshi's apparently automated voice continued, “Offering you the latest and greatest in sauna and exotic massage to...”

Bulma’s shoulders stiffened and her hand clenched the phone tighter. She felt, rather than heard, the growl pass through Vegeta’s body. “Old pervert!” she spit out, not turning to see Vegeta’s face or to explain what was going on. Instead she focused her rage on the receiver in her hand. When the beep indicated her to leave her message, Bulma let loose. “Listen up you dirty old man! You better pick the phone up right now or I swear that I’ll register you as a sex offender once I get back on Earth!” She heard the machine being cut off as the phone receiver on the other end was picked up.

Vegeta’s teeth had ground together at the sound of her shrill yelling. He was slowly deducing that her shrieking must’ve been some form of defense, since she had no strength.

“Alright, alright, keep your panties on, Bulma!” a rough old voice cut through the woman’s tirade.

“Oh, don’t you even bring that up you dirty old pervert!” Bulma bristled as heat rose to her cheeks. She felt an extra strong hit of warm air against neck. ‘Great, just great. Shoulda just called Dad.’ Moving the mouth piece closer to herself, she growlingly yelled, “I’ve got a question and you better answer if you know what’s good for you!”

“Okay, okay I'll tell ya whatever ya want just stop the yelling will ya,” Roshi pleaded.

Bulma snorted, glad that her yelling was getting its intended results even over the phone, of course, she was talking to Roshi and not the Saiyan Prince. “Then listen up,” she snapped, pulling the receiver unconsciously closer to her ear, only to have it stopped by a much larger hand. Her eyes narrowed slightly as the phone was jerked back a ways, but it moved the mouth piece closer. “I wouldn’t want your old deaf ears to miss this,” she chided before boasting, “We have all the Dragonballs! The problem is,” she continued a bit stiffly, “we can’t get them to work. Do you have any ideas on how to work them? Or at least know of someone that would maybe have the answer on how to work the Namekian Dragonballs?”

On the other end of line Roshi began to think. “Hmm, well that one’s a toughie, Bulma. I never had much use for the Dragonballs myself.”

Bulma felt heat rise against her back even though Vegeta hadn’t moved closer. “Well, if you have any ideas, please tell me! I’m desperate over here,” her voice coming out much more confident and commanding than she felt.

Roshi's tone became surprisingly understanding, “Oh don't you worry none Bulma we’ll figure out how to make them work so you can get Yamcha back.” The old man snapped his fingers as a thought suddenly occurred. “I think I got it! I don't know much about the Dragonballs but I know someone who might! Can you stay on the line for a minute there, darlin’?”

“I can, but not for long! I don’t like sitting out here in the open,” she answered hastily.

“I understand dear,” Roshi said knowingly. “I am just gonna go into a kind of trance so it will sound like no one is on the line so just hang on.”

“Okay just don't be all day old man.” Bulma went to adjust the phone in her grip, only to find that Vegeta’s hand was still holding onto it. She scowled again, taking a few small steps backwards until her back was touching his chest.

Vegeta removed his hand from hers, his hand cupping her elbow that now nestled against his ribs and giving it a form push, unaware of the smile Bulma now held as she shuffled forward again.

At the Turtle House, Roshi opened his mind and called out to his second greatest teacher. Hey Korin you got a minute? Roshi sent telepathically.

Oh hey there Roshi. Korin sent back almost immediately. The original Namekian Dragonballs not so user friendly, eh?

Roshi started for a minute and accidentally spoke aloud, “How did he know that!?”

“What!?” Bulma asked excitedly. “Did your guy know something after all?”

“Hang on there, Bulma. I need to hear this.” Roshi said hurriedly

Korin laughed in Roshi's head.  Oh, I could always read your head like a book remember? I dunno anything but I know someone who might help. Let me conference him in. Hey, Mr. Popo.

The assistant to the gods answered instantly. You are not thinking through the problem my old friend.

Wha’? Korin responded questioningly.

Popo has already sensed your question and he already knows the answer. You and your student should as well. Sensing both Roshi and Korin’s confusion, Popo explained. Consider this: why is it we can't use the Earth's Dragonballs?

Because Kami is dead. Roshi and Korin thought in unison.

Roshi continued. Which is a shame because we could ask Kami how to... The old man stopped dead then stood up dropping the phone receiver. “THAT'S IT!” He exclaimed aloud.

“What's it!? What did you find!?” Bulma complained loudly as she heard Roshi’s excited statement.

Roshi rushed to pick his phone back up. “Their creator, Bulma! If the Dragonballs on Namek aren't stone then the one who created them is still alive!”

Bulma gripped the receiver, a wide smile lighting her face up in excitement. “And if he made them then he would have to know how they work! Oh thanks Roshi I owe you a hug when I get back!” Bulma hung up the phone before she could hear his lecherous response. She turned around to face Vegeta, only to find him heading toward the house. “Hey!” she shouted, running after him as her happiness was replaced with annoyance.

“I heard what you and that old pervert were saying. No more playing house with you, girl,” he growled out. “I have five days until the Ginyu Force arrives and that idiot friend of yours, too. I have all the Dragonballs in my hands, so now all I have to do is find this ‘creator’.”

“And do you know where to look for the creator? Can you feel his ki or whatever?” Bulma continued to follow the alien man to the laundry room as she continued to fire off her questions, “And just who exactly has the Dragonballs?” She gulped loudly as the door to the dryer was ripped off its hinges. “I mean, you can’t fly with all seven of them, right?”

He sneered, glancing over his shoulder at the shelf. “Unless I take one of your capsules.” He reached into the machine, pulling out a wad of clothes and depositing the ones he didn’t need onto the floor.

Bulma let out a growl, her hand resting on his chest after he stood up. “No! Now tell me, can you feel anymore Namekian’s?” she asked seriously, determined not to let him go anywhere without her.

He turned his head to the side, looking at the capsules. “Doesn’t matter, I’ll find the creator eventually.” His own hand rose to knock her arm away from him.

“And what? Blow him up? Yeah, that would work out well for you, wouldn’t it?” Her hands landed on her hips as she stared at him. “You do realize that if you kill the creator the Dragonballs cease to work, right?” Bulma gave him a smug smile, before it melted away at his response.

He scoffed, pulling down the boxer-briefs he was wearing. “Of course. That doesn’t stop me from threatening him.”

Bulma kept her gaze on his face, although it was a little hard as he bent down before kicking the material from his feet then having to step into his own black underwear. She should’ve just turned away, but she didn’t want to give him that leverage. “Or,” she finally started, feeling a blush creep onto cheeks, “you could take me with you.” She gave him her best smile, strengthening her resolve and her stance.

“Hm, and just where would that get me by having you there? Aside from once again trying my patients and you meeting an early death?” He pulled the blue bodysuit up his legs and over his hips.

“I could negotiate for you,” she started before being cut off.

“Negotiate?” he asked irritated.

“Yeah, it’s when…” she was once again cut off.

“I know what the word means, girl.” Vegeta slipped his arms into the sleeve of the bodysuit. He smirked as he saw her eyes narrow again. “You would negotiate for me to get my wish of immortality?”

Her glare faltered a bit as her hands slid from her hips at the truth of his statement. She wouldn’t endorse the wish for him. There had to be another way to defeat Frieza. The alien couldn’t be that strong, could he? She was pulled from her minimal thoughts as Vegeta started up again.

“Exactly. So what will you do now? You don’t have the strength to stop me,” he warned lowly, readying himself for an attack of any kind from the female in front of him.

She began to brush past him, her hands grabbing the capsule cases that still lay on the shelf before bending down to grab her clothes. “You’re right, I don’t have the physical power to stop you, but these are my capsules.” She stood defiantly in front of him, her head held high as the cases and clothes were clutched tightly in her hands, blocking the doorway.

A dark eyebrow rose high as he took her in. There weren’t very many females or even males in the galaxy that stood in her position, and the few that had…well, if they had a second chance of challenging his power, they were too cowardly after their first defeat. Yet here was this human female, who had no ki or any sort of physical prowess, standing in front of him like she did. Standing straight and strong as if she hadn’t almost died by his hand a handful of times in the last few hours. He blew his next breath out of his nose as a hand rose to cup her chin.

She barely flinched at the contact. The only reason she did was because it was unexpected as he moved closer to her, but he still kept their bodies from touching. She tried to pull her head back, but found the hold on her chin was a lot stronger than she’d thought. Instead, her face scrunched up as she was put face-to-face with the short Saiyan.

“Honesty.” At her confused look he smirked again. “That’s the only reason you’re not dead, girl.”

The hold on her chin loosened, letting her pull back, but she only moved back enough so he wasn’t breathing on her. Her back was bent at an odd angle as she refused to move her feet away, though.

“If you try to betray me, I’ll have your head for it. Are we clear?” he practically snarled, baring his teeth. He wasn’t afraid to admit to himself that the girl may come in handy. She seemed to be good with technology, with fixing things that he would’ve given up long ago trying to repair.

“Crystal,” she breathed, a bit breathlessly as he continued to stay within her personal space. “May I get dressed and cleaned up so we can leave immediately?” Bulma finally took a few steps back so she could stand straight again.

“You just cleaned yourself!” he snapped, but a growl passed his lips as she raised a knee then the other.

She only smiled and turned on her heels. “I promise I’ll be quick,” was her parting words as she turned out of the room, leaving him alone.
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