Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Something In Common ❯ A Bar ( Chapter 2 )

A short while later Vegeta was sitting at the bar of a low-key tavern. There were few people here and it was quiet, not like the couple other more popular spots he had scoped out. It certainly wasn't as sophisticated as the others, but that was just fine by him; having a little life around him as background was all he wanted - just enough to draw him out of his head. He didn't want to be drowning in a sea of noisy, obnoxious humans.

He took another sip of his bourbon before setting the glass down, his hand going up over his mouth as he brooded. That creature had attacked his son with the intent to kill, then later nearly sold his family into slavery. Ultimately, his son died at the hands of Frieza thanks to that demon's decisions. That's what it took before Bulma finally gave up on that creature. The only damage Touketsu didn't seem to have done to his family was physically hurt his wife…unless Bulma was hiding that from him. Vegeta wanted to believe that the oni retained just one, small bit of his own sense and not have harmed the woman. He could more readily accept that the demon tried to hurt his boy. While only 8, Trunks was a trained fighter and a Super Saiyan. He was certain that damn monster found out just how formidable his son was when Trunks nearly killed him with his Gallic Gun attack.

To Vegeta, it was an even more egregious sin if the demon attacked Bulma, a human female completely outclassed in strength. Her reaction earlier seemed to suggest that he hurt her, but maybe that was due to everything Bulma had witnessed the creature do. He attacked their son, and before that he killed her two friends before her eyes. He reached for his glass, his eyes dropping down to the half-empty tumbler loosely gripped between his fingers. His mind again drifted to Bulma's coffee outing with Yamcha. Her ex had been there for her, while he had unleashed a monster. Maybe…maybe she would have been better off-

He downed the contents of his glass before shoving it in the bartender's direction. "Another," he ordered distantly. He watched the bartender refill his glass, only moderately tuned into the few people that were coming and going. He brought the glass up to his lips and took a sip when he stiffened at the approach of a familiar ki; he had to force himself not to choke. Vegeta glanced out the corner of his eye at the next patron that entered, a man dressed in a white tee-shirt, jeans, and a worn sports jacket. Son of a bitch…

Son of a bitch, Yamcha thought. There was no mistaking that flame-style hair. What were the chances that Vegeta of all people would be at his favorite thinking bar? He huffed to himself; well this was his watering hole, and he wasn't about to be punked out. It was a public place, after all. He sauntered up to the bar.

The bartender's face lit up. "Hey, Yamcha!" Vegeta raised an eyebrow. Scarface was apparently a regular here. Well, he knew where NOT to go next time…

"Heya Seth! How goes it?"

"Not bad. Hey congrats on that ball game, by the way!" Yamcha looked baffled for a moment before he finally remembered the game Seth was talking about. They exchanged an expression of understanding. "Oh yeah, that's right. That was like, months ago now," Seth chuckled uncomfortably. He planted two hands on top of the bar and leaned forward. "Weird, huh? Some scientists are now saying that Earth passed through some sort of space anomaly - kept us in a sort of state of suspended animation for months."

"Huh, yeah," Yamcha replied with a strained grin. "Well, at least it doesn't seem like any harm was done."

"Yeah I guess so. Now we can just get on with harming ourselves, amiright?" He laughed. "The usual?"

"Sure," Yamcha smiled. Seth poured Yamcha a lager from the tap as Yamcha casually drummed his fingers on the varnished wood of the bar. He glanced over at Vegeta for a moment. The Saiyan was now leaning against the bar, his arms crossed as he stared sightlessly down at his glass. Seth handed Yamcha his beer and the former bandit opened a tab before walking over to a table by the wall. Letting out his breath, he took a seat to watch the baseball game playing on the modest-sized flat screen mounted behind the bar.

Rougly a half hour and half a double IPA later, Yamaha looked up in Vegeta's direction. Yep, still there. It was uncomfortable as hell when he first walked in, but after a couple drinks in quick succession (the first being almost pounded), Yamcha was feeling far more relaxed. He regarded the Saiyan thoughtfully. What was Vegeta's reason for being here? Generally, people went out to bars to either A: hang out with friends and get shit-faced or B: numb whatever it was that was bothering them. Yamcha couldn't claim to know all that much about the alien, but one thing he DID know was that he detested public places and humans in general. This was very out of character for him. Yamcha knew why he himself was here; he was bothered by the shit Touketsu said to him and troubled by his memories of Bulma's reaction when he attempted to take out the threat.

Yamcha took a good draught of his beer before bringing the glass down with a heavy sigh. Was he feeling guilty for opening fire on Bulma's husband? He blinked in surprise at the insane thought. Hang on, they're not even the same people! He nodded to himself. It was the right response. He turned into a dangerous monster. He looked up at Vegeta. …Again. He downed the rest of his beer, setting the empty glass on the table as he continued to ruminate. The Saiyan sitting across the room with his back to him wasn't the one who obliterated Goku and tore his throat out. He wasn't the one who stole the Dragon Balls and wished back Frieza. He wasn't the one who did god-knows-what to Bulma.

Yamcha sighed. Every time he tried to make sense of it all he simply found himself back at the beginning. He needed another one. Yamcha pushed his seat back and stood, swaying on his feet just a little before making his way over to the bar. He surveyed his options, gunning for something stronger this time around.

"Barkeep!" Vegeta suddenly barked, making Yamcha jump. "Bring me another, at once!"

"Yeah, sure thing," the bartender replied, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "Another bourbon?"

Vegeta ignored his question. "What's in that bottle?" Vegeta gestured to the liquors on display behind the bartender. "The one with the letters J and B on it."

"Oh that's a scotch whisky."

Vegeta simply shrugged and motioned to it. The bartender grabbed the liquor and was pouring out a shot when Vegeta growled, "Just leave the bottle."

"Huh?"

"Leave the bottle, damnit."

"Uh…ok." He set the bottle down, hoping he wouldn't have to cut this guy off. He was already surly as hell and, stature aside, he looked like he could easily break even Hercule Satan in half. He turned his attention to Yamcha. "Another beer, Yamcha?"

"Naw. I'll go for a, uh, Maker's this time, I guess."

"You got it."

Yamcha took his drink and sat down where he was. He snuck a look over at Vegeta, who was sitting two empty barstools down from him to his left. It must have been the liquor loosening his tongue, because without another thought he said, "Long time, no see. So what brings you out?" Yamcha cringed inwardly at himself.

Vegeta let out a breath. "Is there not somewhere else you can sit?" he growled, not looking his way. "There is plenty of available seating in this establishment."

Yamcha shrugged. "Yeah I guess, but I can see the game better from here," he said, motioning to the tv ahead. "Besides," Yamcha couldn't help adding, "this is my favorite place to grab a drink and I prefer to sit where I like."

Vegeta's lip twitched in annoyance. "Fine. Sit there and don't talk to me." Silence settled between them. Yamcha was casually watching the game, both men sipping their respective drinks. The prince's Saiyan physiology was far more efficient than that of a human's in processing alcohol and poisons in general. Nonetheless, he was beginning to feel the mellowing effects of the liquor now.

Vegeta looked up at the broadcast that had Yamcha so enthralled. Humans wacking a ball with a stick and running around. Vegeta snorted to himself. There seemed to be no end to the different mock-battles humans referred to as "sports". Some seemed to hold some merit; at least in the sport called "MMA" the combatants punched each other bloody. THIS crap on the tv was a waste of time. The game then cut to a commercial about a new dating app. Vegeta watched the actors portray a prospective match, the two laughing and conversing over coffee. Vegeta's nose wrinkled in derision. "What is this human ritual of meeting to talk over some beverage or another?" Vegeta mused aloud to himself.

Yamcha paused, his glass mid-way to his mouth. He wasn't expecting the Saiyan to speak again, much less unprompted. "Huh?"

Vegeta glanced at Yamcha when he realized he had spoken out loud. He returned his attention to his glass, his eyes narrowing a little. "How was your…coffee with my wife?" he growled.

Yamcha lowered his drink. He detected a little hostility in Vegeta's tone. "Fine. Bulma seems well."

Vegeta picked up his glass, seemingly studying before bringing it to his lips. "Did she now?" He asked distantly.

Yamcha frowned a little. Ok, enough with this passive-aggressive crap. He cleared his throat and attempted to make his voice sound as non-confrontational as possible. "Hey man, you don't have a problem with it, do you? I mean, you know. You always seemed fine with it, and I'm not trying to-"

Vegeta looked over to Yamcha, and the words died on the former bandit's tongue. Even in the darkened atmosphere, at this distance he could clearly see the faint, reddish marks that trailed down from beneath Vegeta's eyes. "The woman told me that he killed you and Kakarot." A chill went up Yamcha's spine.

Seth looked sidelong at Vegeta and rolled his eyes before attending to another patron. These career gamers were just the worst, especially after a few drinks. They took their play-time way too seriously…

Yamcha found his voice. "Yeah, he did," he answered, his voice trembling a little.

"How?" Yamcha just gaped, not expecting such a morbid question. Vegeta sighed, his intimidating gaze wavering a little as one hand drifted up to rub his eyes. "Look, the woman told me all the relevant stuff. But…she's glossing over details." He lowered his hand and turned away. "I know she's seen things, experienced things, and…" He sighed. "She won't talk to me about them. I know she saw you and Kakarot die. I wonder if that's…part of what's bothering her."

Yamcha had never seen this side of the Saiyan before. Hell, he had never even heard Vegeta talk so much. He was conversing like a rational human being and openly showing concern for another. How much did he have to drink anyway? Yamcha shrugged, oddly compelled to downplay the incident. "She's seen me die before."

Vegeta suppressed a snort at the amusing reminder of Yamcha's death-by-Saibaman. "Yes, I know," he answered quietly. "Though I imagine watching over a crystal ball removed her from the situation somewhat. I wonder if-" Vegeta barely stopped himself. She's afraid of me now. He downed half of his drink and cleared his throat. "Just give me the details, will you? Because she won't."

Yamcha deliberated a moment. With a sigh he grabbed his tumbler and got up, walking the short distance to drop into the stool next to Vegeta. He hesitated before knocking back the rest of his shot as Vegeta topped off his own drink. "You know about Mt. Eroso then?"

"Yes. The three of you took one of her jets there to retrieve the last Dragon Ball." To Yamcha's mild surprise, the prince also refilled his empty glass before setting the bottle down between them.

"Thanks," Yamcha said genuinely as he pulled his glass over.

Vegeta just grunted and took a sip, coughing out a chuckle. "Huh, to think he needed to take a plane. Absurd. Gods, he couldn't do shit when he first showed up, could he? Couldn't even fly."

"Well I wouldn't say he was powerless. Yeah he had trouble controlling his ki at the time, but he was learning."

"Hh." Vegeta was reminded of his powerless situation when he arrived in Zhernobog's realm. He must have been in that state for a long time if he could forget how to channel ki. "Bulma told me she wanted to wish me back to normal, so long as the dragon had enough power."

"Yeah," Yamcha agreed quietly. "She uh…she was convinced you were still in there."

Vegeta snorted in amusement. "She must have been if she wasn't afraid of traveling with that creature. Foolish woman." He sighed. "I get it though…her thinking. He and I may not be the same people now, but we were the same people that…" Vegeta trailed off. Even with a few drinks in him it was difficult admitting that he had been kidnapped like some helpless child. He crossed his arms, leaning forward against the bar. "We were the same people that disappeared that night." He chuckled to himself, rubbing his face. "Gods...that woman. Well, she didn't give up on me all those years ago. Why would she give up on a demon?"

"Yeah she's committed all right," Yamcha chuckled, the sound a little forced. His expression became thoughtful. "Hm. She changed. We both did." Vegeta looked sidelong at Yamcha, one eyebrow arching up in mild curiosity as to what he was getting at. Yamcha scratched the back of his head. "We'd break up and get back together again so much. It was kind of our routine. We were broken up again by the time…" He heaved a sigh. "By the time you guys showed up. Bulma went all the way to Namek to gather the Dragon Balls and wish me and the others back." Yamcha took a drink and shook his head. "Everthing changed after Namek." Vegeta found himself silently agreeing. "When I was brought back everything changed. We didn't immediately get back together after I was wished back, like I would have expected. We didn't officially break up, either. It was like, oh I don't know, like she was rethinking everything. I guess I was too, but I still wasn't ready to move on just yet." Yamcha took another drink and snorted a little mirthlessly. "Bulma seemed to be moving on though, in a way. You know, right before you came back after looking for Goku we were all sitting out on the deck and she said she had a dream about you."

"Me, huh?" Vegeta queried distractedly as he imbibed.

"Yeah. She said she had a dream that you two kissed."

Vegeta choked into his glass, a blush beginning to form on his cheeks. She had never bothered to mention that to him. He swallowed and cleared his throat. "…She kissed me, or…I kissed her?"

"She just said you were a "good kisser" in her dream.

His face now burning hot, Vegeta returned his attention to his liquor. "Vulgar woman," he grumbled into his glass before taking a drink.

"I was automatically pissed. Stupid, 'cause it was just a dream. I think it pissed me off less that she was dreaming about kissing someone else, and more for the fact that she was kissing you."

Vegeta's lip twitched in amusement. "Huh. Why?"

Yamcha whipped his head in Vegeta's direction. "Why? "You…are you seriously asking me that?" Yamcha exclaimed, completely missing Vegeta's teasing smirk. "You know goddamn well why! Because Bulma was my girlfriend and you were an evil space invader that got us all killed!"

"Pfft. You were brought back. Besides, it's not like I killed you," Vegeta teased before taking another drink. Ruffling this guy's feathers was turning out to be kind of fun.

"I died because of you guys!" Asshole. Apparently death was only funny to Vegeta if it was happening to someone else. In that instant Yamcha recalled how King Kai relayed the battle between Frieza and Vegeta back when he and the others had been training on the god's planet. Vegeta was tortured, his spirit broken along with his body before he was unceremoniously executed. The death had been a slow one. Yamcha supposed that at least his own death had been quick…

"You died because of a Saibaman," Vegeta laughed out on the last word. He continued to chuckle.

Indignant, Yamcha's anger flared again. "Why the hell is that so damn funny to you?"

Vegeta hadn't stopped laughing. "You thought you were ALL that when you put down just two of them - huh, with effort, I might add," he smirked. "Technically you only defeated one. Ha ha- The look on your face when it latched onto you…BA HA HA! Oh gods, your face!" he wheezed.

"You've got a morbid sense of humor, you know that?! Those things were no push overs!"

"Ha! I trained with those things when I was like, 4 years old!" Vegeta exclaimed. "That's like… s-stepping on one of my kid's Legos and then… exploding!" Vegeta howled, one hand slapping down onto the bar as he crumbled into a fit of laughter.

"You're crazy!" Yamcha exclaimed, but he was surprised to find a smile beginning to tug at the corner of his mouth. It was such a ludicrous comparison. "You're crazy and drunk! Legos and frikkin' Saibamen are nothing alike!" He laughed. Why the hell was laughter so contagious even when it was this guy making fun of his death? Damn alcohol.

Vegeta was actually wiping tears from his face, he was laughing so hard now. For a fleeting moment he realized that not since Nappa and Raditz had he laughed over drinks like this. His grin faded as he quickly sobered at the thought, and he cleared his throat. "Speaking of drunk - catch up, lightweight," Vegeta snorted as he topped off their glasses.

"Hey, I may not be able to beat you in a fight, but I can hold my liquor," Yamcha smiled wryly as he took his glass.

"Think you could against a Saiyan?" Vegeta smirked as Yamcha knocked back the contents of his glass.

Yamcha brought his empty tumbler down with a sigh of satisfaction. "Hell, no," he said lazily, making Vegeta chuckle before likewise downing his shot. "You guys are in a league all your own, I sure as hell can accept that now. Maybe I'd have a chance against you in a baseball game."

"Huh. Dream on," Vegeta snorted as he refilled their glasses. "You'd never catch me engaging in that ridiculous waste of time."

"Yeah, yeah, that would take away from your training," Yamcha replied with a roll of his eyes. "After a moment he leaned towards Vegeta. "You know uh, Bulma admired you - your work ethic and all when we were training for the Androids. So I…heh, I can't believe I'm telling you this…I wanted to prove to myself that I could handle the gravity simulator too."

Vegeta was bringing his glass up to his lips when he looked over at Yamcha in surprise. "You used the gravity simulator."

"Yeah."

"Huh. What did you set it on?" he smirked. "2?"

"300."

Vegeta blinked in shock. How the hell had this guy not died a total of 3 times? "And here I thought Kakarot was an idiot!"

"Well that's what you were training under so I thought I'd give it a go."

Vegeta put his glass down, his incredulous gave never leaving Yamcha."'Give it a go.'" He repeated. "Fool! Were you drinking when you made that informed decision? As if you could ever come close to my level. 300 times Earth's gravity would have crushed you! Hell, it should have crushed you!"

"It almost did! I was lucky I just barely managed to reach the off switch."

"…You were actually able to lift your arm off the ground?" He looked at Yamcha with newfound respect. "Damn. You're tougher than I gave you credit for, human. Heh - and way stupider." Vegeta began laughing again. "Had I gone out to the gravity simulator and discovered your pancaked corpse, I would have died laughing! Hey, y-you know, if you really wanted to best me you should have just left the thing running! HA HA HA!"

"Guess I didn't want your death on my conscience," Yamcha drawled.

Vegeta got his laughter under control as he brought his glass back up to his lips. "Well, you saved the woman some grief by not dying," he snickered, taking a sip. "Shit. When I got caught in that explosion she was wailing about how something she helped design and build nearly killed me. That woman," he mused shaking his head. "How the hell does she find a way to blame herself for our own damn decisions? We're grown-ass men, and she's not our mother."

"Damn right," Yamcha agreed as he took another drink.

Vegeta's bemused smile faded when he remembered that Bulma was the very reason he was talking to this idiot in the first place. "So uh…the mountain."

Yamcha's smile disappeared and he shifted in his seat. "Oh. Yeah. Um, Bulma just got the last Dragon Ball when that Churnabog guy showed up. I flew her off the mountain while you guys - uh, I mean Goku and T-Touketsu faced him," Yamcha corrected himself, a little unnerved by his slip of the tongue. "Anyway, after a bit Goku told me telepathically that everything was alright, and we headed back to meet with him. We got there just in time to see Touketsu kill Goku with some sort of ki blade."

A sweat drop formed on Vegeta's temple, invisible in the low light of the bar. He remembered that sword very well. His Bulma must have been haunted after witnessing that. Not for the first time he was struck by the hypocrisy of wiping the Earthlings' memories of the events while keeping their own. "Hn. That must have upset the woman," he said neutrally as he knocked back the rest of his drink.

Yamcha faltered.

"NO! Yamcha what are you doing?! Stop! PLEASE!" Bulma screamed in a panic, gripping fistfuls of his parka.

Touketsu leapt out of the way of the blast, but Yamcha fired one after the other.

"YAMCHA, STOP IT!" Bulma shrieked, desperately hitting Yamcha's chest with her fists.

"HE'S NOT YOUR HUSBAND ANYMORE, BULMA!"

"Uh…yeah. She was pretty upset." Yamcha said shakily as he took another drink.

There was silence between them for a moment. "He attacked you, I take it?"

Yamcha swallowed. "Uh, yeah."

Vegeta folded his his arms over the bar. "Hm." He seemed to muse for a moment before leaning sideways towards Yamcha. "Hey uh, no shame in being felled by the same weapon that killed Kakarot."

"Well that's not…exactly how it went down," Yamcha replied. He took another drink, not looking in Vegeta's direction. "He lost control of his ki. But, I wasn't about to wait for him to get it back."

Vegeta looked to him and just stared. His eyebrows drew together. "You engaged him?" he affirmed.

Yamcha finished his drink and set his glass down with a sigh. Straightening, he swiveled in his barstool to face Vegeta. "He killed Goku," he said resolutely. "He would have gone after us next, I'm sure of it."

Vegeta blinked and leaned back. He was quite surprised to find his mind reeling in conflict. He himself would have done the same as Yamcha, but that was not what was on his mind; Bulma had been there. What was she thinking? His wife was just standing by, suddenly condoning his execution? And why - because Kakarot went back to Otherworld early!? She had all 7 Dragon Balls in her possession. She could have still wished him back. She didn't try to talk her ex down -insist on trying to subdue the creature instead? That couldn't be his Bulma. He didn't want to believe it. Vegeta's brow furrowed. "Bulma…She…" He shook his head a little. "She was ok with this?"

The uncharacteristic expression of betrayal on the Saiyan's face didn't escape Yamcha's notice. He took in a shaky breath. "No, no she didn't - but she wasn't thinking straight." Vegeta stiffened, his eyebrows suddenly plunging into a furious scowl. "He could have gone after us-"

"She wasn't thinking straight?" Vegeta hissed incredulously, his eyes flashing. "She is the most intelligent woman on your fucking planet and she wasn't thinking straight?"

"No, she's not - hey, I'm not trying to imply that she's stupid, but her emotions were getting the better of her," Yamcha sputtered.

"Maybe because she was still trying to get her mate back. You took her choice away!"

Yamcha's eyes hardened. "That's right, I did! She wasn't thinking straight," he reiterated. "He killed Goku. You know what, a little while ago I found out that blade actually destroyed his soul!"

"Did you know that at the TIME?!" Vegeta countered, quickly shoving aside this new information.

"LONG before that he was unpredictable and violent!"

"Sounds familiar," Vegeta retorted, his nearly forgotten jealousy suddenly fully awakened. He leaned in, his gaze intense as he scrutinized Yamcha's eyes. "You know, Zhernobog told me that every soul they judged had some darkness in it. There were none that didn't. None." His lip twitched into an ironic smirk. "But that's no revelation to me. What darkness do you think they would have found in you, I wonder?"

Yamcha fought to keep his breathing even. "This was about neutralizing a threat." he said slowly.

"Was that all it was?" Vegeta prodded. "Or did this have something to do with eliminating competition?"

"Wha?" Yamcha gaped, a cold sweat breaking out over the back of his neck. He shook his head in angry denial. "No! You would have done the same as me, Vegeta."

"What?" The prince asked softly, his dark, penetrating eyes appearing jet black in the low light of the bar. "Attack a man with no ki to speak of?"

Yamcha's expression darkened. "He wasn't a man, he was a monster."

"Uh huh. I've also been called that."

Yamcha's eyes hardened further. "And for good reason," he spat. "Your career once consisted of wiping out entire populations of helpless citizens. Could they use ki? What were their power levels, huh?"

Vegeta straightened, his jaw clenching. He swallowed at the shameful reminder of his hellish past, a hell that he had been again subjected to in Zhernbog's realm. He hadn't just killed under Frieza's orders; he killed for sport. He lowered his head a little, glowering at Yamcha from beneath heavy eyebrows. "I make no excuses for my past," he finally said, his words quiet. He cocked his head a little. "In fact, I spent a lot of time reflecting on it, and I arrived at a conclusion." He leaned in towards Yamcha and looked him dead in the eye. "They were the acts of a coward."

Yamcha wasn't drunk enough to miss the double meaning behind that condemnation. His eyes flared. Seth walked to stand between them, chuckling nervously. "Some online game I haven't heard about? It's gotta be somethin' - even you're taking it pretty seriously, Yamcha. So uh, you two need a water or anything?"

"Uh, sure. Thanks Seth," Yamcha replied distractedly. Seth walked off to get a pitcher of water as Yamcha leaned in towards Vegeta, his voice now lowered. "Maybe we should take this outside."

"Agreed."

Yamcha's eyes widened in fear when he realized what he had implied. With a gulp he quickly began backpedaling. "Hey man, I didn't mean to-"

"Silence," Vegeta hissed. "If we're going to continue our little conversation, I'd rather do so without the company of these eavesdropping insects." Grabbing the bottle of J&B, Vegeta smoothly stood and walked out without waiting for a response.

Yamcha hesitated. "Hey Seth, We'll be right back to close our tabs, ok?" I hope. He followed after Vegeta.