Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Space Station Z ❯ Training and Talks ( Chapter 6 )

Disclaimer: No matter what my cough medicine tells me in the wee hours of the night, I had nothing to do with DBZ or it's conception.

And now, sorry for the wait…

Space Station Z

Chapter Six

By RM

He crouched down, narrowing his cool, blue eyes at his opponent. He kept his senses open and his fists balled loosely, waiting for the next round to begin. He always tried to sneak a few slaps into his fighting style when he sparred with her. He knew how much she absolutely hated that. And the other two circling him was an added bonus. He was usually a little easier on the Earthlings, mostly since they were still new at all of this, but not by much. The corner of his mouth curled up slightly in a smile. He knew exactly what to expect. He knew all of her moves. After all, they were twins.

#18 tried to control her breathing as she watched her brother through thick strands of tangled, blonde hair that had fallen over her eyes. #17 was certainly playing rough today. And if she didn't watch it, she knew he would find a way to pack that little bitch slap in there somewhere.

Tilting her head slightly, she peered through the tangles at the other two in the training room. Yamcha looked right at home, sizing #17 up as he stood ready for the fists to start flying once more. He had made great strides in his own unique way, although he still had a lot to learn. #18 had spent a lot of time trying to get him over his apparent fear of hitting girls. He usually acted a bit strange about the whole issue. It wasn't until recently that she had discovered the best way to get him to take a swing at her, and it had all been thanks to the woman Bulma. She had confided in #18 that the best way to get any Italian man angry was to insult his mother. Skeptical at first, she had decided to give it a try when all else failed. Her shoulder was still a bit stiff after he had slammed her into a wall.

Turning her attention from the taller warrior, she focused briefly on the short one, Krillin, she believed his name was. He normally appeared sort of nervous or unsure about something, but when it came time for a match, he was more than focused on his opponent. She wondered how someone who seemed so unsure and just plain goofy could find the drive to master the techniques presented to him so far. He was definitely a better fighter than Yamcha, and he was certainly more intriguing, as far as she was concerned.

#18 wrinkled her nose at the bald warrior. She'd have to be careful when she sparred with him one on one. Normally, he trained with #17, and she never quite trusted his tactics if she could help it. Knowing her brother, he was packing the other man's arsenal with an overabundance of moves that would really piss her off. Perhaps on the other hand, she thought, she should spend some more time with the short Earth man. It would give her a chance to influence both Earth fighters, and it might also give her a chance to reverse some of the damage her brother had already done.

Her thoughts coming to a close regarding her new friends, #18 turned her head to continue glaring at her brother, only to find that he wasn't there. Growling, she twisted around in a mild panic, only to feel someone painfully connect with her lower back. She could almost hear her brother grinning as she slammed into the far wall before falling down ungracefully on her rump.

Yamcha, possessing that particular instinct that warrants an attack on someone that just messed with his associate, took this as his signal to throw an attack of his own at the other man. His aim was precise, although not yet fast enough, and the kick destined for #17's head wafted harmlessly through the air. He didn't let the fact that #17 dodged his attack faze him however, as he had quickly learned that the best way to get your butt kicked was to let the little things spoil your concentration.

Krillin kept himself ready, his feet solidly planted on the firm mat installed in the training room for safety. He was studying the other attacks and defenses, analyzing strengths and weaknesses, secretly hoping to a point that he wouldn't be expected to get involved. It had always been like this. His entire life he'd hoped to just quietly sit on the sidelines while at the same time manage to be involved in the main event. But it never seemed to work that way for him. There was always something that managed to suck him into a situation he would really rather not be in. Although in every circumstance, in every situation, he found that certain element of excitement. And he always found himself coming back for more.

"You piece of shit!"

Krillin spun around when he heard her exclamation, a little surprised to see the beautiful, blonde woman with a look on her face that could shatter steel. It wasn't that he'd never seen her angry. He had seen her more than that on several occasions. It was just that he always associated her with exhibiting nothing more than cold indifference. Not to mention that it was always a bit unnerving to be staring into the eyes of someone that probably wouldn't have a problem ripping your head off in order to stuff it up your ass.

"Uh-oh," Krillin breathed as he prepared to feign left as she rushed towards him. He had to try to keep cool until she was close enough to miss him completely. He had to stay focused in order to time things right.

Krillin was soon to learn that time was not on his side.

*****

"You are really asking for it!" Nappa shouted as he waved his arm wildly. He was clearly annoyed with the third class warrior and he was hoping it didn't show. Sure, in a straight ki battle he had him completely whipped, but when it came to conventional wrestling, Raditz was able to break out of every hold known in the universe.

"You've only just caught on that we've been sparring?" Raditz snarled derisively. It wasn't the norm that he got to spar with Nappa, and while he was on board the station he could consider himself both privileged and lucky. Privileged because Nappa was an elite class Saiyan, born to the rank and deserving of the title, having proved himself time and again in contests, battles and drills. And lucky because when Vegeta had stormed out of the suite that morning he had been in a snit and had forbidden anyone the use of ki unless otherwise authorized, even during the morning training exercises. Had Nappa been using his abilities, Raditz would have been trounced, but as it was, the older Saiyan had gone rusty when it came to the simple act of wrestling, and as a result, Raditz was having more fun than necessary.

"Sparring? You're just dancing around!" Nappa accused, pointing a large finger at the other warrior.

"Dancing?" Raditz laughed lightly. "With you?"

"That's right!" Nappa slapped his forehead with his palm as if he were just remembering something vitally important, "you're too pretty to ask me to dance!"

"Who said anything about asking?" Raditz stated as his demeanor changed from laugh to sneer.

Nappa simply smirked. "Then you'd better turn on the charm, twinkle-toes. I don't wear my party dress for just anybody."

Raditz clenched his fist and tried not to lose his temper. He absolutely hated it when someone got the best of him, and although it seemed to happen more than he would have liked, the mere fact that it was a certain overbearing Saiyan doing the besting was a bit too much to deal with so close to mealtime. Nappa, on the other hand, added a deep, throaty chuckle into the mix, recognizing the indignant mark of youth, which pushed the other Saiyan to a certain level of nuts limits. He made quite sure to display as many teeth as possible at his opponent's obvious distress and braced himself for the lunge that quickly followed the death growls. He stepped to the side and jumped when Raditz kicked at his feet and somersaulted effortlessly over the younger Saiyan, grabbing his neck from behind in a firm sleeper hold as the growling continued in a very unbecoming way.

Raditz went straight for the elbow, only to find that Nappa's move was the one that proved a better effort than the others before. In fact, the more he struggled against Nappa's hold, the tighter the grip on his neck became. At first he tried to shake him off, but after several minutes, as he felt his heart pounding in his ears and his breath becoming harder to actually catch, he didn't think that a simple shake would work. He continued to sputter around, trying frantically to stay dignified as the dizziness thickened. In a way, he was thankful that Nappa was still laughing at him, as it gave him something to focus on outside of the numbness that was beginning to spread up his legs. After several long moments of blinking slowing and painfully, he willed himself to make one desperate rush, forcing himself forward, ramming his body into the hard steel of the training room wall, paying little attention to the howling protests of pain and even less heed to the crackling hiss of something that smelled like wet cats and firecrackers.

It was Nappa's turn to sputter around clutching at his forehead, as he didn't foresee the meeting with the thick and rather solid wall. He felt like his head had been cracked into two halves, both of which were quite unhappy and in quite a bit of pain.

"Ah shit!" Raditz heard Nappa's exclamation through the haze of asphyxiation. "What in the hell did you do?"

Looking down at the floor as he balanced himself on hands and knees, Raditz was concentration on staying conscious. He blinked several times as his wits began coming back to him. His eyes were a completely different story.

"I don't know," Raditz finally croaked out, staring at the floor. He had seen spots before, but as he stared hard at the mat, his eyes had completely bypassed the spots and had jumped straight to solid flashes. "I can't see anything."

"No shit!" Nappa shot back before sniffing loudly and making a face at the smell.

"Well," Raditz stated with a grunt as he pushed himself up to kneel, "which is it? Ah shit or no shit?"

Suddenly, the door to the training room crashed open to reveal one very sweaty and very agitated Saiyan Prince.

"You shits!"

Nappa gave Raditz a wry look before turning around and straightening up for his superior.

Vegeta looked from kneeling Saiyan to the bald, standing one, over to the control panel to the training room, which by this time had begun to smoke, adding to the already acrid smell of crackling circuitry. It was hard to discern the looks on their faces, mostly since Raditz had his head down and Vegeta always had a hard time actually looking at Nappa. The lights were also another factor, as they were flashing on and off at odd intervals, obviously just one of the many casualties when the circuits were fried.

"Would one of you care to explain yourselves?"

Nappa didn't budge an inch as Raditz finally stood as straight and still as his cohort, eyes darting quickly to glare accusingly out of the corners of their eyes.

"He did it!" Both warriors shouted as they pointed at the other, still not exactly sure what they were blaming the other for.

Vegeta clenched his teeth in an effort to not totally lose his temper and blast someone. He once again began counting to ten.

"One, two…"

Raditz and Nappa both gave the shorter warrior a curious glance as he stood in front of them counting aloud.

"…three…"

"Hey Vegeta! The lights are out in this one too. I think all the rooms are…do I smell something burning?"

"…fuck…"

"Phew!" Kakarott stated as he waved his hand in front of his nose, peering over Vegeta's shoulder to look inside the room. "Did you guys fry the control panel?"

Both Raditz and Nappa quickly raised pointed fingers once again as they stood near the doorway and next to the now sparking control panel.

"It was his fault," Nappa began.

"It was his head," Raditz interrupted.

"It seems as if I can not even trust you two alone for some mild exercise without you breaking something," Vegeta stated quietly as the lights continued to flash. "And now it seems that you are bleeding on the floor," he continued, turning his attention towards Nappa.

Nappa raised his hand to the side of his forehead to check for himself. He had thought that perhaps Raditz had simply forced him to break a slight sweat. It was now quite evident that what he had actually forced was a small, but deep gash, just now beginning to flow a little too freely.

"Since you have already shut down the training rooms, you may as well go and have your head checked at medical," Vegeta ordered with distaste. "And both of you, stay out of trouble. THAT is an order."

*****

Krillin was aware of two things. The angry blonde in front of him and the sudden lack of an angry blonde as the lights cut out.

So much for timing.

Deciding to stick with his original plan of action, Krillin spun to the right and grabbed out, hoping to catch #18 by the shoulder in order to spin her down and keep her there. He let out a slight chuckle when he felt something settle into his palm, but the chuckle soon turned into a rather nervous giggle when he realized that if he had indeed caught a hold of her arm, he was certainly catching more of her with the rest of his body.

She tried not to grunt upon impact. She felt someone's hand on her arm as she continued to sail into that said someone full force. Before the lights had gone out, the short Earth man had been coming at her from the opposite direction. By the time she had sort of figured out what might have happened, the lights were flickering on and off, and she was looking down into a very surprised set of dark eyes as she straddled a very firm lap.

"My…now that is certainly a new move," #17 observed his now flush-faced sister as she sat firmly on his sparring partner's lap.

#18 was at a loss for words as she continued to stare into Krillin's eyes, her anger slowly fading into embarrassment. Krillin was the one to gain his wits first, pushing himself up and forcing her off his lap. Unfortunately, Krillin was about to learn that #18 handled embarrassment the same way she handled almost everything else.

She hit him in the shoulder.

It wasn't a hard hit, which both parties involved were surprised to discover, but it served to remind Krillin of who he was and where he was. To #18, it served to show that she was not to be taken as some frilly, little girl who got all flustered at the sight of a cute, yet mysterious man she just couldn't quite figure out. At least, she hoped it did.

"Training module shut down in five…four…three…" the flat yet strangely too cheerful program recording announced as the group exchanged odd glances.

"Do you suppose it's a programming flaw?" Yamcha asked curiously. They had experienced several system shut downs for various reasons over the past few weeks, mostly since the system was new and not all of the bugs had been worked out yet.

"Probably," #17 replied, watching his sister very closely as she made it a definite point not to look at Krillin as he dusted himself off. "Anyone up for a nice, cold juice?"

*****

"The fur is a little singed there, but otherwise you're just fine," Marron smiled gently at the small, blue cat. "Although I still don't quite understand what this whole business has to do with potholders."

Puar smiled back at the woman nervously. She really didn't want to get into it with anyone outside of her travelling companions, who already knew she was a shape-shifter. On the whole, it was a pretty handy trick, but there were often times when she also found herself in certain situations where it would have been better to stay in one, solid form. Like baking, for instance.

"Next time, I'll have pot-holders nearby," Puar assured her, floating up to stand on top of the small nursing table. She blushed slightly, trying not to get embarrassed all over again.

"Are these all of the alcohol swabs you have?" A muffled voice sifted through from under the cupboards as Marron patted Puar on the head.

"They're all you're getting," Marron rolled her eyes towards the counter and where her sister was rummaging through her supplies. "I'm running a clinic here Bulma, not a market."

Bulma peeked her head out to shoot her little sister a dirty look as the door to the medical facility slid open and a very large man was pushed inside by a slightly smaller, large man. As he was prodded towards the nursing station, it wasn't much of a surprise that he got even larger, and it was quite obvious that he was injured and didn't want to be where he was.

Marron turned around to regard her next patient. He certainly was tall. Massive would have been a better word. He was wearing light armor, which looked like it had seen better days. Apart from the armor, he was wearing little else, except maybe for a scowl. Marron simply brushed off the dirty look her sister gave her and grabbed a pair of latex gloves from the small wall dispenser. If this guy was unhappy, so be it. Past experience dictated that the bigger they were, the bigger the baby they turned out to be.

Raditz could feel the tension practically oozing from Nappa as they approached the weak females occupying the area around the treatment table. Nappa had never been one to appreciate the finer points of the healing arts and he had proven to be even harsher towards those weaker species that actually practiced them.

"This is stupid! Look at these pathetic losers! They're weak, and to top it all off, they're females!" Nappa blared in his native language to the room in general, but knowing that only Raditz was able to understand him.

Raditz nodded slightly but offered no comment. He felt the same way Nappa did, but he would honor his prince by trying to be diplomatic as best as he could, which meant he would have to keep his mouth shut.

"Females are only good for one thing!" Nappa continued on as he sneered towards the humans, pointedly ignoring the cat, "and sometimes they even suck at that!"

Raditz coughed politely but otherwise stayed silent.

"You can have this one here and I can take that one over the counter, but then again, I'm sure that they're both good-for-nothing bitches!"

"That's an awful smart mouth for a guy wearing banana benders," Marron dismissed his obvious hostility towards her with a wave of her hand. She had absolutely no idea what it was he had just said to his friend, but she could tell from the tone he had used and the look on his face that it wasn't something she really wanted to hear directed towards her. If he wanted to cop an attitude with her, she could fire one right back. She was sure she had put up with much worse, and certainly much better looking.

Nappa turned around completely as his fists balled and shook. The weakling understood his native language? His eyes narrowed as he stared hard at her, wanting to lash out and grab her by the throat just to slowly squeeze the life out of her.

"So, you understood me? And here I was under the impression that your race is as dumb as you are weak," the large Saiyan laughed with a sinister edge as he switched the conversation to galactic common.

"What's there to understand?" Marron didn't bother looking at her patient as she eyed the small table before deciding against it's use and simply grabbed the large alien's arm.

"I've killed better than you," he growled low, enraged at her nonchalant tone and the fact that she had actually touched him without his permission.

"That's nice."

"Is the other one as bitchy as you are?" He asked, hiking his thumb towards Bulma as he continued to growl at the seemingly oblivious medical technician.

Bulma's eyes flashed with anger, but she kept her mouth shut. Was her sister that stupid or did she have some kind of death wish? While Marron was spending the majority of her time either taking blood pressures or doing her hair, Bulma had spent almost all of her time working on the training rooms. She was used to seeing the men there, the kind of men who would kill you just for standing the wrong way. She had no doubts that he had probably killed a lot of people, as his statement suggested. And as far as Bulma could tell, this guy was probably on top of the `don't piss `em off' list.

"My, would you look at that?" Bulma quietly interrupted as she grabbed her small beeper in one hand and gracefully took Puar's tiny paw in the other. "There's an electrical problem down in the training facility. We'd better go…"

"The other one?" Marron asked unfazed as she watched Bulma rush out of the door. "The one that came in with you? He seems quiet enough."

Raditz narrowed his eyes briefly as one beautiful woman left the room, thinking that she somehow seemed familiar. When the door finally closed, he turned his head slightly to glare at the other blue haired woman left in the room. While he didn't appreciate being referred to as a bitch, he was interested to see how Nappa would navigate through this one. She seemed nonplused by their power levels and apparent superiority, and he could tell that Nappa was quite pissed off at her blatant disregard of their Saiyan-ness.

"How dare you…" Nappa began.

"Look, I'm sure we can all appreciate what you've gone through today, but could we just settle down? I have a manicure scheduled in ten minutes." Marron informed the large Saiyan quite plainly as she stared into his dark eyes for the first time.

Nappa opened his mouth to yell at her again, but he found himself sputtering at the sight of her blank, blue eyes and the situation in general, one which he had never once found himself facing. If it hadn't been for Vegeta's very strict orders, she most certainly would have been dead.

"Now," Marron stated as vacantly as possible while selecting the small tube of ointment that would cause the most stinging and burning pain as possible, "try not to act like a big baby. This shouldn't sting too badly."

*****

News always traveled fast when in came to the training facilities and who had broken what. #18 raised her eyebrow in disgust at two figures standing against the far wall as she not so discreetly carried a still warm pastry away from the juice bar. Two Saiyans watched her with curiosity and disinterest respectively as she made her way towards a small table and a slightly larger group of people.

"Vegeta?" Kakarott asked weakly.

The older Saiyan failed to raise an eyebrow at his subordinate's tone.

"Do you ever think about…" he trailed off as he glanced towards the blonde at the table then down at his feet. He couldn't bring himself to just come out and say it. No matter how appealing it seemed, it was female's work after all, and although he normally didn't care what others thought, he was a little nervous about what Vegeta might say.

"Kakarott," Vegeta rolled his eyes, standing quite still and quite stiff. "I am a disciplined warrior. I am not dead."

Kakarott scratched his chin nervously as he wondered what being dead had to do with it.

"It is quite natural to think about," Vegeta continued on in a quiet yet confident tone. Although in a way, to someone who knew him much better, it sounded as if he were trying to convince himself of that very thing. His body language betrayed little however, his hard gaze unwavering as he watched the small group eating at the table. "I have been thinking about it quite a lot in the past few days."

It had been four days to be exact. Enticingly soft curves, alluring blue hair, bright eyes. He couldn't stop thinking about the exotic female who had fallen into his arms. He hoped he would run into her again. Literally. There was something about her that just couldn't be ignored. Perhaps it had something to do with her smell. Perhaps it had something to do with her soft, appetizing lips. Or perhaps it had something to do with the way she…bounced.

Vegeta sighed deeply, clearing his throat.

Perhaps it really had been too long.

Kakarott considered Vegeta's statement thoughtfully. He supposed his friend was right. It really was only natural. They would often wonder where and when their next meal would come from when they were off wandering the universe. It wasn't that any of them were starving, but it was a known fact that when Saiyans weren't busy fighting, they were busy being hungry. And Kakarott knew from first hand experience that there were often times that he was busy being both.

"So," Kakarott began a little hesitantly, "you think it's something I might consider while I'm here?"

Vegeta turned his head slightly towards his sparring partner. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten sucked into this conversation but at that particular moment, he was feeling a bit frivolous, and at that particular moment, he knew that Kakarott was the only Saiyan left alive that couldn't call his bluff for his inexperience on this particular topic.

"As long as you are not doing it by yourself," Vegeta curled his lip in distaste, "and as long as I do not have to see it."

By himself? Kakarott thought about his friend's statement and how it really mattered in the general scheme of things.

"I guess I have someone in mind," he admitted slowly as he thought, and not for the first time, about the tasty tray of biscuits in the cul-de-sac, and the lovely, young female who had made them. His mouth began to water as he thought about his next two choices. And his stomach growled as he realized that she was probably good at both.

Cooking was appealing since that was where the main meal really was. But baking certainly had its own appeal factor, and one that he had just recently begun to appreciate.

"There are two different ways I'd like to try it," the younger Saiyan stated a little anxiously as he rubbed his stomach slightly.

"Only two?" Vegeta cut in as he pushed away from the wall he was leaning against. He could think of at least fourteen different ways to pleasure that shapely, blue haired goddess, and that was without being very imaginative.

Vegeta began to pace, arms folded across his chest, the tip of his brown, furry tail tapping intermittently against the durable fabric of his dark blue training suit. He was being driven to distraction as of late, and that was something that he did not appreciate. He hadn't lost sight of their original plan, but recently, since about four days ago, he was starting to have certain…problems…arise that were really starting to get annoying. And Kakarott bringing valid points up was certainly not helping.

From his spot on the floor, Kakarott scratched his head and tried not to look astonished. He had no idea that Vegeta knew much about cooking, other than he enjoyed eating the meal as much as he himself did.

"We should go get something to eat," Vegeta finally grumbled from his pacing line on the carpet. "Although I would suggest something with substance other than this…measly display of scraps," he continued on as he gave a quick scowl towards the juice bar.

Kakarott glanced back towards the rather large pastry and the blonde who were still occupying the same table.

"And you will have plenty of time for that later," Vegeta grumbled as he crossed his arms and made his way towards the elevator that would take him away from the training facilities and deliver him where the food was.

Pastries? Kakarott thought about coming back for some sweet, gooey treat while Vegeta was preoccupied with images of enjoying his own sweet, curvy, little, blue haired one.

Snapping out of it suddenly as the pastry disappeared into the mouth of someone else, Kakarott stood quickly and jogged through the spacious lobby of the training center in an effort to catch up with his friend. And he couldn't help but smile at the fact that sometime very soon, he could be making pastries of his very own.

*****

Sorry about the delay in posting. I did warn it would be touch and go for the next few. I actually planned more for this chapter but decided to clip it into two…so at least the wait shouldn't be as long for the next part. Again, if you have any requests to see more of a certain character, let me know and I will see what I can cook up. And for you B/V fans…don't worry. You'll get some interaction in the next part. And sorry for the typos. I am sure I didn't catch everything. Happy New Year everyone, and take care.

-RM