Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Swarm Saga ❯ Of Compromises ( Chapter 13 )

Disclaimer: This is a piece of fanfiction. Dragonball / Z belong to Akira Toriyama and other associated peoples. No money is made off my endeavor to get this story idea out of my head.

 

 

 

Chapter 13: Of Compromises

 

Bulma shut down the computer for the evening. Trunks had asked her if she would look over the engine specks to see if he had missed something. She really couldn't find any reason for that engine to have a shimmy. The shimmy annoyed her. She hoped to roll out Trunk's latest vision of air travel with the new line of products in three months. Unless they rooted out the problem soon, it would have to wait another eight months before production. She rubbed her bleary eyes and pushed the hair out of her face.

 

As she reached to gulp down the remaining bits of cold coffee her eyes fell on the picture of her parents that perched reassuringly on the edge of her desk. “I don't suppose you could tell me what`s wrong?” she asked her father. Her father patiently smiled back, Kitty peering inkily out from over his shoulder. He would tell her to get out from behind the schematics and start tinkering.

 

Plans were only guidelines. To get something to work properly, you had to fine tune it by hand. They had all worked best with tools in their hands anyway. Even Trunks learned his way around the gadgets by taking stuff apart and reassembling it. Or, more likely, having his father blow something up and fixing it before she found out it was broken. Somehow, in the shuffle and the corporate meetings, those simple lessons became lost. She leaned forward and brushed her fingers over the glass. “Thanks, Dad.”

 

With a plan firmly in mind, she hoisted herself out of the office. If they couldn't fine tune it by hand, they would have to tear apart the entire thing and check the manufacturing quality of each part again. As she walked through the halls towards the private quarters she contemplated her fresh manicure. Damn. There was no help for it, she supposed, at least they would grow back.

 

She reached her private suite and checked the clock on the table in the sitting area, just past eleven. Damn she didn't think that she had stayed up that late. She walked further into the room and glanced at the large bed that dominated the chamber, pristinely dressed in the highest thread-count sheets and maroon and green duvet. A little too pristine, neither a wrinkle nor rumple to be seen. No evidence at all that her husband had used the room at all.

 

He hadn't slept in their bed for the last two nights. She slumped onto the edge of the mattress and blankly stared at the walls. Maybe he didn't find her attractive anymore. No, he could not have made love to her the way he had last week then suddenly think her ugly. Besides, she still possessed a body most younger girls would kill for. Whatever was going on had to end. She couldn't do this much longer, not if she began to doubt herself. She placed her hands on her hips and studied the room waiting for a clue as to Vegeta's whereabouts to magically appear when she felt the tell-tale hum that indicated activation of the gravity capsule. Walking over to the monitor, she pressed the button that activated the closed circuit communication system.

 

The sight of Trunks on the screen instead of her husband caught her off guard. Trunks rarely trained anymore, and never this late. She watched him move around the room in a blur of gold. From the look on his face, he was pushing himself harder than he had in a long while. She switched off the sound and watched for a moment. Despite all she had seen, she had never been allowed up close and therefore had never noticed how serious and cruel the fighting could be. He screamed silently as he hurled himself into the path of his own ki blast only to reflect it away at the last moment. Clothes shredded and blood-stains appeared on his skin in less than a minute. Not wanting to disturb him, she turned off the circuit before he noticed.

 

She still had a predicament, where was Vegeta? She strode from the room determined to find out where he hid himself, suddenly needing to know that he was whole. The quiet hallway offered no indication. She eased up to the old guest room he used and pushed open the door. Nope, not there. She checked a few of the other rooms as well as down in his office. She wished she still had that old scouter. It would make things simpler. She had given up and was back up to her room when she noticed Bra's door lay ajar. She peeked through the opening to check on her daughter.

 

Vegeta sat in the arm chair in the corner of the room with his arms crossed over his chest. Apparently, he had fallen asleep there. She didn't understand how anyone could be comfortable in that position. The nightlight plugged into the wall illuminated half of his face. She felt a surge of envy at the youth in his features followed quickly by a surge of pride in the calm on them. Living here, with her, had done that for him. She let out a loud sigh and pushed the door the rest of the way. Vegeta's eyes shot open as they had for as long as she had known him, moving from full sleep to full wakefulness in an instant at the slightest noise. It usually unnerved her. Tonight was no exception. She stepped into the room where he could see her in the shadows cast by the night lamp. “Vegeta, come to bed.”

 

His eyes bored into hers for a moment and she had the recurring feeling that he could read her thoughts. He seemed to find nothing of interest in them and his attention turned back to their daughter sleeping peacefully. “I've been neglecting her training,” he whispered.

 

Bulma was taken aback. “I thought that we agreed that you wouldn't unless she showed an active interest.”

 

“She can't even defend herself against a basic attack. She should at least know that much.”

 

“You only say that because you didn't have to talk to her teacher after Jack Pierce tried to kiss her.”

 

Vegeta's attention snapped back to her. “Some boy tried to kiss her? They're twelve.”

 

“Yes, and she knocked him out cold. For three days.”

 

“Exactly why she needs to be trained. She needs to learn better control.”

 

Bra whimpered and rolled over in her bed. “Let's continue this conversation in our room.” Vegeta looked at Bra for a moment. He placed his hand gently on Bra's shoulder before standing up and following her out of the room. As soon as the door clicked shut Bulma rounded on Vegeta. “Why the sudden interest in training her?”

 

“I told you. She can't even defend herself. The only reason she can fly is because Trunks and Goten thought it would be amusing to teach her.”

 

“And she hasn't shown any other inclination towards learning how to fight. And we agreed that if she didn't, you wouldn't force it on her. So why the sudden interest? She's just a girl, Vegeta.”

 

Vegeta's mouth tightened. “So is that thing at Kuririn and Eighteen's house. She's perfectly capable of leveling entire planets.” Vegeta stormed down the hall and into their suite.

 

Bulma stood there for a moment, not entirely sure if she had heard right. Vegeta hadn't just compared that woman with her little girl. Surely Bra had not just come up short in his estimation. What the hell was going on?

 

Bulma followed Vegeta into the room where he was forcefully removing his clothes. “Are our children just not Saiyan enough for you anymore? Is that it? Well, I got news for you, bucko. They're perfectly fine just the way they are and if you don't like it, tough.”

 

“Don't be absurd.”

 

“I'm being absurd? Trunks is killing himself in the gravity room right now. You're suddenly worried about Bra being able to level planets. Would you care to tell me why?”

 

Vegeta stopped mid motion and looked at her sharply. “Trunks is training? Good.”

 

Bulma felt as if her world was crumbling around her. “Vegeta…”

 

Vegeta finished undressing, slid under the covers with his back turned, and turned off the light. With a gruff, “Get some sleep,” he let her know that his part in the discussion was over.

 

Bulma fumed in the dark for a moment. How dare he shut her out like that. She tried calling his name, tried to coax something else out of him. She sank onto the edge of the bed and leaned over to touch her fingers to Vegeta's back. He flinched and moved away. Sighing, she removed her hand and stared at the ceiling until sleep finally took her.

 

The next morning, when Bulma woke up, his half of the mattress was empty; sheets cast aside. She lay in bed looking at the wall until the alarm sounded its fourth warning. She heaved herself out of bed. The world wouldn't wait just because she had a fight with her husband.

 

Bulma looked up as Trunks entered the kitchen. He appeared awake enough, but the faint redness of his eyes told of how little sleep he had gotten.

 

“So when did you get to sleep last night?”

 

“Um… three?”

 

“You should have slept in.”

 

“I can't. I have a meeting with the engineers. Then we need to do more testing.”

 

“Actually no, you don't. There will be no testing on that engine today. Today, we tinker.”

 

Trunks smiled at her and chuckled softly. “Schematics are only guidelines?”

 

“Exactly. Besides, your grandfather's only rule was no testing is done without a full nights sleep. Not that he didn't break that rule often, but it still stands. Switch schedules with me today. I'll take care of the engines. You make my appointments.

 

“I have a meeting with the patent office at eleven which shouldn't take too much brainpower since the patent officer only has half a brain. At one, I'm supposed to accompany your father to Congressman Junta's office. Vegeta will do most of the lobbying there. To be honest, sending you might actually be better. Junta is a sexist pig.” Not to mention there was still that minor issue that they were still fighting. No she hadn't given up just yet. “There is some minor stuff in between but nothing you couldn't handle. Barb will have my full schedule. In the meantime, go back to bed. I'll wake you in a few hours.”

 

Trunks seemed to mull it over for a bit before looking at her with a militant expression in his eye. “One condition. Be nice to my engineers. They are brilliant people. It's not their fault they're not as brilliant as you.”

 

“Flattery, will get you everywhere.”

 

---

 

Kuririn stood among the waves crashing around him calf deep in the new surf feeling the fish flit around his ankles. A light fog rolled in off the ocean. He loved the early morning before the guests woke up and began making demands, before the staff came in and started their duties. And lately, before the daily arguments started with their newest resident.

 

The first argument occurred when the woman realized that she was on an island. Apparently, she was too preoccupied to realize exactly how much water she had crossed to get here. When Seloli announced her intention to forage for food, Eighteen informed her that she would have to do so on the mainland. For the rest of the morning, the girl wore out the porch, staring at the ocean and making the rest of the guests nervous. Eventually, her hunger got the best of her and sent her speeding north. Right over Kame Island and towards Goku, not that she knew that. She returned an hour later, sullen and jumpy, her clothes covered in blood. He thought it best not to ask how they got that way.

 

She repeated the journey in the afternoon. Upon her return she began asking about her training. When she approached him she made no bones about her actual goal of the Kamehameha wave. When he told her no, she tried to hit him. Eighteen stopped her fist and took her away.

 

He took a deep breath and released a beam of energy that sent both the ocean and the fog churning. Kuririn sent a second blast rushing out, chasing the other. Water danced everywhere as the second caught up with the first. Kuririn waited for the ocean to smooth back out before cutting another wake. He was pulling in his energy when a green streak flew past him and into the water. The blast created its own wake as it plowed through the air above the water.

 

A low groan sounded behind him as both blasts disappeared, the second never quite reaching the first. Kuririn spun and fell into the waves. Seloli stood on the beach and watched the ocean for a very long time, the fingers on her out stretched hand closed into a soft fist before she dropped her arm to her side. Kuririn watched the skin under her lip stretch as she ran her tongue along the inside. She then turned her attention to him, sprawled in the surf, her eyes regarding him intently. He hastily righted himself and slapped at his sides to remove the excess sand. Seloli made a huffing noise in the back of her throat.

 

“Eighteen told me to get you on my way out. One of the other people is having a problem.” She further muttered something in that guttural language he didn't understand, and wasn't sure he wanted to, then took off over the ocean towards the mainland. The full force of her con trail pelted down on him as she zoomed passed him on her way to the mainland. In response, he allowed his knees to bend and his body to twist, thereby keeping his feet.

 

---

 

 

Yamcha looked at the door not fifteen feet in front of him. He'd feel a lot less antsy about knocking on it if he wasn't so sure certain death awaited on the other end.

He dragged his feet across the sidewalk trying to gather courage as he approached. Delivering good news should not scare him. Five feet from the door a hand clapped him on the shoulder causing Yamcha to turn sharply to see the familiar lavender hair of his best friend's son. He look back even further to see the scowling form of Vegeta clad in a… was that a suit?

 

Trunks looked closely at Yamcha. “You're sweating. Something happened to the car?”

 

Yamcha looked up sharply. “No. No. I just need to talk to your mom.” Now that he said it he felt better, no backing out.

 

Trunks shrugged and led the way inside. “Come on in. She's probably on the assembly floor. I'll get her for you.” He set Yamcha down at the kitchen table and strolled into the bowels of the complex leaving him there with an amused Vegeta.

 

Yamcha found it odd how he knew Vegeta was amused since his facial expression never changed. Vegeta simply leaned against the doorframe as he removed the tie around his neck. They stared at each other for ages before footsteps echoed through the hall behind them. Vegeta straightened up and wrapped the tie around his hand. “She'll want to throw you a party,” he stated simply before turning on a heel and leaving. Yamcha just shook his head while his shoulders shook in silent laughter.

 

A moment later Bulma came bursting through the doors. “What's wrong? Trunks said you looked like something had died.” She stopped in the middle of the kitchen gawking at his laughter which only added volume to his guffaws. “This isn't a joke anymore. What's wrong?”

 

Yamcha composed himself and stood up. “I'm getting married and I want you to be my best man.”

 

Bulma's face brightened then scrunched. “Congr… Wait a minute, you're getting married? To who? How can you even think about getting married to somebody we haven't even met? How do we even know that she's not marrying you for your money?” Bulma crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Yamcha.

 

“Her name is Ookami. She's an accountant. You met her son at Marron's party.”

 

“An accountant? She's not after your money then. She'll take one look at your finances and run in the other direction.”

 

“She's seen them.”

 

“Then I wouldn't let this one go.”

 

“I won't.”

 

Bulma sank into a chair. “When will we get to meet her? Before the wedding I hope. We should throw you an engagement party.”

 

Yamch couldn't help himself as he double over in laughter. Bulma found it less than amusing. “Something Vegeta said,” he said by way of explanation. Afterward they ended up talking and formulating a plan.

 

As he stood up to leave, Bulma gave him a hug. “I'm honored to be your Best WOMAN.”

 

After Yamcha left for home, Bulma sat back down in the chair. She was happy for Yamcha, really. Somehow, though, she felt as if she had just lost him, stupid she knew. She broke up with him, married Vegeta. She didn't want him. So why was she jealous of a woman she never met? Yamcha stayed single, her friend. Deep down, part of her fancied that he still carried a torch for her, stayed single for her.

 

As tears trekked across her face, Vegeta sat down next to her, held her until they subsided in silent understanding of her loss. He felt the same way when Kakarrot chose to remain dead.

 

 

 

 

 

AN: Beta Kudos again go to the lovely and talented Bardockgurl who now insists that I work Bardock into this fic. Thank you for reading. And remember I like reviews as much as you do.