Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unfaithful ❯ Part Three: 17 ( Chapter 17 )

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

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................................................................ ...................Rhapsody~*



________________________~* Part Three*~: Diplomacy
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All was silent in the human's chambers when Vejita landed. Thankfully, the doors of the balcony were left ajar, saving him the trouble of breaking the lock or, Kami forbid, actually knocking. Just to be sure, Vejita felt for the ki's in the room-- only two weak ki's were present, and it was definitely Bulma's.

Certain that it was safe to enter, he strolled into the room confidently, concentrating on Bulma's ki so that he could find her without checking every room in the place. His senses led him to the open bathroom, where Bulma must have gone to read his note.

He found her slumped against the bathroom sink, on the floor, with her uncharacteristically loose and disheveled hair covering her face like a veil. Judging by the shaking of her thin shoulders and the tiny beads of moisture that only a Saiyan could see pooled on the floor beneath her, she had been crying. She apparently hadn't heard him come in the doorway, because she did not look up, nor did she seem to mind that she was dressed only in a sheer white nightie that clearly hadn't been picked out by her. Vejita absently noted his crumpled note and a hairbrush abandoned on the floor near the human queen.

"Kakkarott will not tell anyone," he finally said, making her aware of his presence. "At least, not yet."

Bulma started and whirled to face him, her tousled curls falling to either side of her tear-streaked face. Vejita was inwardly astonished that even marred as she was, with no makeup, she was still the most sexually alluring woman he'd ever seen. "How did you get in?" she asked, her voice unsteady. "Did you get my note?"

"Through the balcony, and of course I did, woman. I wouldn't have came and risked running into your husband if I hadn't." Vejita approached her slowly, his calculating eyes taking in her stress. "I spoke to Kakkarott on the matter, and I would not have let the idiot go if I didn't trust him." He sounded more confident than he felt, he realized. But there was no need to alert Bulma of that.

"I cannot believe that this is happening," Bulma muttered, sniffling and attempting to wipe away the tears that were still coming. "I knew that it was too good to last. I knew it."

Vejita smirked in spite of himself. "Who said anything about ending it?" he asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bathtub.

Bulma blinked, seemingly confused. "But someone knows now. It would be fool-hardy to continue putting ourselves at such risk."

"When was this not foolhardy?"

"Never, I suppose," Bulma admitted with a frown. "But Kakkarott could tell at any given moment, and--"

"Since when did I give a fuck what Kakkarott does with himself?" Vejita interjected. "Think of it this way-- whether we are discovered or not, our planets are still headed for war."

Bulma contemplated his logic for a moment, her face masked by a curtain of curly hair. Vejita was most likely right, but now that she was going to start talking about the meetings in private, perhaps the mission could be salvaged. If she continued the affair, however, she would ultimately be condemning her planet to war.

The torn woman lifted her eyes to Vejita, who was staring back at her with his black, unreadable eyes. She took in his tanned skin, darkly handsome features, and arrogant yet knowing demeanor and instinctively knew that she had found her match. When they were together, even Lord Byron seemed silly and boyish in comparison. As far as her heart went, she had made a decision. But it was her mind that had to be dealt with.

The queen finally looked back up at Vejita, and no words had to be spoken. He could guess her decision just by looking at the expression on her face.

Wordlessly, Bulma stood and closed the bathroom door, then approached Vejita, who merely smirked up at her from his sitting position. The girl smiled through her tears and reached out to trace the prince's muscular arms with her fingers, humming his song beneath her breath almost unconsciously. The prince needed no encouragement-- he had lashed out and pulled the woman into a straddling position before she was even aware of what he was doing. When he kissed her, she did not resist. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and closed her eyes in bliss.

As his mouth traveled slowly down from her petal-soft lips to the nape of her neck, she moaned and titled her head back in pleasure. It never ceased to amaze her that with one kiss, Vejita could evoke more passion than her husband could throughout an entire bedding. Vejita was apparently enjoying the experience as much as she was, because his characteristic Saiyan tail had found its way to Bulma's exposed thigh, around which it wound itself in almost a contented manner.

Since Vejita had no pressing desire to have sex in King Yamcha's bathroom, he went over his other options as he continued to caress the human queen's smooth, ivory skin. Apparently Nataliah, Bulma's maid, had gone to converse with other servants, because he could not sense her ki anywhere, nor Yamcha's.

So, in a spur of the moment action, he hoisted Bulma up as he stood and exited the bathroom, which earned him a squeal of protest from the flustered woman.

"What are you doing?" she demanded. "Nataliah or Yamcha could walk in at any moment!"

Vejita shook his head as he set her down on the still unmade bed of her and her husband. "I will sense them as soon as they come within minutes of the room," he informed her confidently. "And besides, I rather like the idea of having you in Yamcha's own damned bed."

Bulma could help but laugh at this playful comment, and did before her breath was stolen by another kiss.

Neither monarch gave any thought to the possibility that Vejita might have been too distracted to sense a tiny human ki coming at them.
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Across the palace, a guard just so happened to be walking past the meeting rooms when he heard the unmistakable sound of groaning coming from the room that was being used for negotiations with the humans. At first, he gave it no mind. But when the person inside started to speak almost incoherently, the man stopped in his tracks. The language being spoken was unaccented English, which could only mean one thing.

"Aw, shit," the guard spat. This was going to make him even later to his shift, but he had to do it. Saiyans prided themselves on their unwavering honor, did they not?

The human inside attempted to speak again, which successfully did away with any of the man's second thoughts. So, shaking his head, the guard entered the meeting room.

He was greeted with the sight of King Yamcha himself clutching his empty wineglass, with tired eyes and a clear hangover. The human glanced up when he entered and grimaced.

"Where can a man get a refill around here?" he demanded, throwing his glass at the guard's feet half-heartedly. "Kami-damned Saiyans..."

The guard bristled at Yamcha's offending comment, and was tempted to leave him there, but had no choice but to assist the human guest. "I'll be escorting you back to your chambers now, Your Majesty."

Luckily, Yamcha was becoming clear enough to stand and stumble over to the guard. "Fine," he managed. "But be quick about it. I've got a fucking headache."

"Yessir," the guard replied dully, sneaking a look at the clock mounted on the wall. He was going to be later than he had originally planned.
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In her chambers, Queen Magdalene paced nervously. From a safe distance away, one of her maids cowered, not daring to cross the queen while she was in such a foul mood. She had become known to possess a temper that could even match Vejita's at times.

For some unexplainable reason, the woman could not seem to relax this morning. Blaming it on impending effects of the multiple martinis she had enjoyed the previous night, she had brushed it aside. But it still remained, and she was starting to think it more than just a hangover. No, it was that sixth sense that all mothers seemed to possess, that feeling that you got when there was something amidst in your child's life.

She hadn't panicked yet, though, because she knew her son all too well. She had lived more than half of her life with this sinking feeling. He had been known to do countless things that had set her worrying. Usually, however, those feelings went away. And this one was not. She knew that he was alive, at least-- his ki had been partially masked, but it remained.

Which meant that Vejita was partaking in something potentially dangerous. And, considering their diplomatic situation at the moment, they simply could not afford that. Not in the least.

Magdalene's thoughts were interuppted when one of her servants hurriedly entered the room, approached the queen, and bowed, clearly uncomfortable with the news he carried.

"Well?" Magdalene demanded, uncharacteristically. "What did you discover?"

The servant swallowed nervously. "Nothing, Your Majesty. We could not find your son in the palace, nor in the public parts of the city."

"Damn him, the stubborn ass," Magdalene muttered. If he could not be found, then she knew that he was hiding. On purpose. Which meant that he was doing something stupid. The over-experienced mother sighed heavily. Then, to her servant, "Continue searching. I want him found in time for afternoon tea."
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Nataliah, after double-checking to make sure that her queen was alright, had slipped away to find a certain Saiyan that she had pressing business with. The handmaiden had quietly donned herself in a demure brown servant's gown and matching cloak, despite the sweltering climate of Vejitasei, and stolen away into the palace hallways.

She had no idea where to search first-- she knew nothing of the Saiyan, nor of his daily habits. All that she knew of Saiyan males, really, was that they loved to train. So, mustering up her courage, she had headed for the training facilities, in search of none other than Kakkarott.

The guards in front of the training facility stepped in front of her, their dark faces suspicious. Handmaidens clearly had no business in the facility here on Vejitasei, Nataliah gleaned.

"What is your business here, girl?" one of the guards demanded. "This is the training facility, not the servants' quarters."

"I am aware of that," Nataliah said, her eyes on the floor. If she had to go through more of this intimidating stuff, she would very well abandon her mission and return to Bulma, where she should have been. "I carry a message from Queen Bulma of Earth to the Saiyan Kakkarott, one that must be delivered immediately."

The men looked at each other, as if they weren't sure whether to believe her or not, then turned back to look at her. The same man who had spoken before did so again.

"Prove your claim," he barked, crossing his arms and glaring down at her.

Nataliah was grateful that she had anticipated this. From inside her cloak she pulled out her ring of station, embellished with the crest of Earth's royal family. She showed this to each guard, then stowed it away in her cloak again. "Does that suffice?" she asked, growing impatient.

"It does," the guard allowed. "You are lucky. Kakkarott arrived just moments ago, along with his brother Radditz, Nappa, and Turles."

Nataliah curtsied as they opened the doors for her and allowed her to pass. "Thank you."

The Saiyan men training in the facility stared as he walked past, and a few were even bold enough to call out after her.

"Where is your lovely mistress?"

"I have a message for you, sweetheart..."

"Give my regards to your queen!"

Nataliah colored slightly from beneath her hood, and walked faster to avoid them. Her wide, frightened brown eyes desperately searched the area for Kakkarott, but he was nowhere in sight. Just when she was about to break down into tears, a strong hand found its way onto her shoulder. The jumpy handmaiden gasped and turned to face her 'attacker'.

Radditz stood before her, apparently as confused as she was upon recognizing her as Bulma's maid. "What are you doing here? This is no place for a human girl." Nataliah detected some mocking in his voice, and was hardly surprised, judging by what she had seen of him so far.

"I came with a message for Kakkarott," she stammered. "I must speak with him immediately."

The Saiyan raised an eyebrow, probably wondering just what she would have to talk about with Kakkarott. "If you insist. He's over in one of the private rooms. Follow me."

Nataliah sighed in relief as she followed Radditz's broad back over to one of the many doors lining the walls. Inside the weight-lifting room was Kakkarott, Nappa, and Turles, who all looked up when she and Radditz entered.

"I believe that this is Queen Bulma's handmaiden," Radditz said, with an uncaring shrug of his shoulders. "She wants to speak to you, bonehead."

'Bonehead' must have been a common insult to Kakkarott, because he came forward with a friendly smile on his face. Nataliah felt instantly relaxed in his presence, and could hardly blame her lady for taking a liking to this man.

Uncertainly, she glanced around at his companions. "I think that it would be better for us to speak alone," she said, hoping that the burly Saiyans wouldn't get offended and kill her. "I have something to discuss with you."

Kakkarott glanced over his shoulder at his friends, then turned back to her with a somewhat dimmer smile. "Uh, sure. I think that I know of a place."

Nataliah sighed in relief and followed him out of the room and into another one. Judging by the walls and walls of spare weights, treadmills, and the like, this was a storage room for the exercise equipment. Kakkarott was quick to assure her that no one ever came in this room, and that if anyone were eavesdropping, he would sense them right away.

"Prince Vejita sent a note to my lady this morning," Nataliah began slowly. This was her last chance to back out, to keep her knowledge of Bulma and Vejita's affair to herself, where she could be certain that it was safe. But something told her to talk to Kakkarott, so she did. Her parents had always taught her to go with one's instincts, and she wasn't about to go back on her life's philosophy now. "It contained two words. 'Kakkarott knows'."

It was impossible to tell what the man was thinking. Even though he was generally viewed as a dim, easy-to-read man, Kakkarott apparently knew how to guard a secret. Either that, or he had been threatened by Vejita, which Nataliah wouldn't doubt for a moment. "And what about that message made you come talk to me?"

"I know what you know," Nataliah confided seriously. "And may Kami deliver me from the suffering that comes with it."

Now Kakkarott's face opened, and his eyes showed a bit of interest. "What do you think you know?"

"I saw my lady down on the coast, with Prince Vejita," she finally said. The memory was burned eternally in her mind. "And there was no mistaking what was happening. She was scantily clad, and behaving like I've never seen before. It is becoming increasingly obvious what has taken place, and I'm sure that it isn't likely to stop."

"I'm so glad that I'm not the only one to know," Kakkarott breathed. "But then again... Does anyone else know about this? Are you sure that nobody else saw?"

Nataliah shook her head. "I have told no one, and when I witnessed it, I was alone. I am loyal to my queen, even if what she is doing is not right. I will keep the secret until I have a pressing reason not to."

"Me too," Kakkarott said. "But only because I like to see both Bulma and Vejita happy. I've never known Vejita to willingly take such a risk, so the... relationship must mean something to him. We've all wanted him to find a mate for a long time now." His face clouded over. "I just can't believe that the girl he finally decides is 'worthy' of him is married, and to Yamcha no less."

"I, too, have noticed a difference in Bulma," Nataliah said. "She is much happier, much more independent as of late. Its a subtle change, because of Yamcha's presence, but it is there nonetheless. Yamcha abuses her in every way possible, and I would love nothing more than for my queen to be safe."

Kakkarott shook his head. "This is a mess."

"What should we do?" Nataliah asked, just as helpless as he was. "Keep the secret to ourselves?"

The Saiyan considered, then nodded gravely. "Yeah-- we'll keep it to ourselves unless something happens. Until then..." He did not look happy at the prospect of carrying the burden any longer. "I guess we have to wait."

Nataliah suddenly realized how long she had been gone. Her lady would no doubt take notice. "I must leave you now. Please contact me if anything happens," she said hurriedly, putting her hood back up.

"I will, cross my heart and hope to die," Kakkarott promised, his face boyishly sincere. "As long as you do the same for me!"

Nataliah grinned for perhaps the first time since arriving on Vejitasei, and copied his childish gesture of crossing her heart. "Cross my heart," she repeated as she turned to leave. "Thank you for your time."

"Bye!" Kakkarott called after her.

As she left the training facility, Nataliah felt herself relax a bit. The weight on her shoulders was slowly lifting with the fact that she was no longer alone in her knowledge of their empires' possible downfall.
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"Do you believe in ghosts?"

Vejita momentarily stopped his trail of kisses from Bulma's neck to her flat stomach and lifted a brow at her odd question. She was propped up in a half-sitting, half-laying postion on the large pillows of her husband's bed, her clear blue eyes half-closed in the dappled sunlight. Her hair had been allowed to remain loose, and it cascaded down her front in shining waves, much like those of the sea. The hair was the only covering she had for her naked body. As she asked her question, her gaze was towards the balcony, though Vejita could not fathom why.

"What the hell kind of question is that?" His tone was brusque, but Bulma could sense some definite humor behind the tone. "Ghosts?"

The queen smiled and nodded at the ajar doors of the balcony. "Well, apparently I was visited by one this morning. The doors certainly couldn't have opened themselves."

Vejita shook his head and continued his ministrations, unfazed by her question. Usually, questions annoyed him, even when coming from his friends, but when Bulma asked them, the usual annoyance rolled right off of his back like rainwater, and he was left with only amusement. Strangely enough, he found the slender little human to be quite entertaining. "Would you rather have me walk the halls for everyone in the whole fucking palace to see?"

Bulma leaned her head back against the headboard, allowing the soft waves of pleasure eminating through her to warm her all over. She regarded Vejita through slitted eyes, and from beneath dark lashes. "That would certainly take a large weight off of our shoulders, would it not?"

"Yes," Vejita answered. He then sat up so that he was looking down at Bulma, his smirk growing slightly larger. "But then what would I do for fun?"

"Ravage some other foreign monarch, perhaps?"

Vejita did not find this suggestion funny. His smirk was transformed into a scowl of displeasure. "Sorry, but Yamcha isn't exactly my type. I prefer my men to fight instead of just bending over like a good little bitch." Bulma almost winced at his venomous tone, and wondered what it was that had agitated him so.

"Whatever it is that I said wrong, I am sorry," she said, placing a hand on his arm as he turned away from her, still scowling. "I had no intentions of insulting you. After all, I am guilty of much the same thing."

"Do not make such a foolish comment again," the prince said curtly.

"I'll keep it in mind." Bulma wanted to get their first confrontaton over with already. She crawled over to Vejita and entwined her arms around his waist from behind. She knew that her foreplay was working, because she could feel his muscles relax a little beneath her hands. Bulma then turned her head so that her cheek was resting on his back and sighed contentedly. "Come back to bed now. We haven't much more time before Yamcha arrives."

Vejita was still for so long that Bulma was beginning to fear that he was going to reject her, but then, as quick as he had earlier in the bathroom, he had turned and situated her carefully beneath him. The queen was overjoyed to see the lopsided smirk gracing his handsome face again, and giggled in response. The quiet, musical sound that Saiyans were so unaccustomed to hearing pleased Vejita's ears.

"Then lets not waste it."
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Down the hallway, Yamcha and the guard made their way slowly but surely back to the humans' chambers. The king was beginning to become more coherent and aware of the things around him, thanks to the long walk they were undertaking.

"When will we get there already?" the human complained for the millionth time. "I haven't got time to waste dallying around in the hallways of this Kami-forsaken place."

"Patience, Your Majesty," the guard said through gritted teeth. "We're nearly there."

Yamcha crossed his arms, not wanting to believe this man. He had woken up in a bad mood, and was dying to take it out on somebody. Since he could not take it out on the guard without it being talked about all around the palace and soon the universe, his wife was that chosen person. But, how could he hit her if he never arrived at their chambers? Once again, he sighed heavily, just to let the guard know that he was unhappy.

"Did my wife attend the fireworks last night?" he asked, out of nowhere. He vaguely recalled her bending over him the night before, saying something about fireworks. "Speak up, soldier!"

The Saiyan man shrugged. "The entire Saiyan council attended, Majesty, but I am not sure about whether the queen was there or not."

Yamcha frowned. If it was something that would displease him, he was sure that Bulma had ran off and done it. The stupid cunt. He couldn't wait to lay his hands on her. "Are we nearly there yet?"

"Its just down this hallway, King Yamcha," the guard replied. After this, he would take extra care never to be in the same wing of the palace as this annoying son of a bitch. He could now see why Prince Vejita was in such a bad mood these days.

Yamcha scowled at the guard as they approached his chambers, as if his hangover was entirely the other man's fault. The late man needed no encouragement-- he hurried off in the opposite direction without even so much as a bow. Yamcha, however, did not care. He could care less about some random Saiyan, especially in the mood that he was in. All that he wanted to do was get his hands on Bulma, that lying, sneaky bitch...

Inside the room, that same 'lying, sneaky bitch', was actually engaged in a heated liplock with the Saiyan Prince, who was far too 'distracted' to sense the incoming ki. That is, until the unmistakable sound of a key turning the lock could be heard.

"Fuck!" Quick as lightning, Vejita untangled himself from Bulma, hastily donned some clothes, and concealed himself behind one of the enormous draperies.

Bulma, whose reactions couldn't possibly be so quick, hurriedly pulled her nightie over her naked body and ran a hand through her loose hair. Just as she was finishing, the door opened, and a very bedraggled-looking Yamcha was revealed. Without so much as a second glance at her, the human king turned and locked the door behind him. Bulma took the opprotunity to straighten her appearance at least a little bit.

"Where have you been?" she dared to ask, her voice timid. "We had all assumed that you would wake sooner."

Yamcha smiled an odd, almost psychotic smile and stepped a little closer. "Where I was... doesn't matter."

Bulma put on her best face for him. Her stomach turned at the prospect of being civil to this man. "It mattered to me."

"Why are you dressed like that?" was Yamcha's next odd question.

"I chose to sleep in this morning," Bulma explained. "I almost just woke up."

Vejita, from his vantage point behind the curtains, could not help but crack a smirk at her easy lie. Apparently Earth's nobility had plenty of practice. He was not, however, prepared for Yamcha's next move.

The human man suddenly lunged at Bulma, the veins in his neck and forehead bulging in fury as he pinned the helpless and clearly terrified woman to the bed. "And where the fuck were you last night, you stupid whore?" he demanded, shaking the woman until it looked as if her eyes would roll permanently back into her head. "You went to the fireworks, didn't you? Didn't you?!"

Bulma let out a strangled sob along with her reply. "I went with the queen, Yamcha-- the queen and no one else! I even told you before I left!"

"Liar!" Yamcha spat. He took hold of his wife's thin arm and tossed her to the floor, where she cowered as he delivered a swift kick to her stomach area. "You were with other men-- Saiyan animals, no less! You willingly let them look at you, which makes you nothing more than a slut with an influencial name and a pretty face!"

Vejita struggled to control his urge to run out and kill the man, but knew that he could not interfere. If he were seen, both he and Bulma would have to fare far worse than a beating. But that did not mean that it was easy. The Saiyan Prince gritted his teeth as more wounds were added to Bulma's just-healing old ones, by her own mate. It was most pathetic display he had ever seen.

Bulma was now sobbing freely in terror of her own husband, clutching the floor as if she could hold on and sink right through, escaping the attack. "Yamcha!" she cried as the man continued his barrage up on her frail body. "Please... Stop it!"

"Stop it?" Yamcha grinned manically. "Fine then-- I can understand your need for variety."

Vejita watched in horror as Yamcha threw Bulma up the bed, spread her legs uncerimonously, and proceeded to rape her violently, laughing and shouting all the while. It was all the prince could do to keep quiet in his building rage.

Bulma screamed in pain and angst as Yamcha forefully drove into her again and again, all the while knowing that her Saiyan lover was watching the degrading display from a short distance away, unable to help her. The queen felt as if her body were being ripped apart from the inside as Yamcha pumped away, driving her hard into the mattress upon which she had just made love to her husband's worst enemy.

Yamcha grinned as his wife screamed and cried beneath him. "You see?" he shouted between pants. "This is how its always gonna be, if you continue to disobey me. And by the way, the resisting sensation that you're creating is extremely erotic."

Bulma was unable to reply, as she was so lost in her cries and racking sobs. She could not go through this violation numbly, like she always had. Vejita was watching the entire thing. The queen wished that she had never been born, or that she had ended her life back when she should have, on her wedding night, where she had endured much the same treatment. But she hadn't, and here was, being raped and beaten by her own husband, as if paying for that decision.

Finally, Yamcha came to his disgusting climax, and pulled out of her slowly. Even that small movement was painful-- Bulma could not help but cry out. Behind the curtain, Vejita thanked Kami that it was over.

"Though I have to admit, for such a filthy piece of garbage, you always were a good fuck," Yamcha said, buttoning up his pants with a trimphant grin. "I'm off to train now-- cheers."

Then, just as quickly as he had come (no pun intended), Yamcha was gone.

Bulma collapsed from the bed to the floor, curling into a fetal position to indulge the searing pain between her legs and on the multiple new bruises she had suffered. Then the tears returned, and she was lost in sobs of agony and humiliation so intense that she felt as if she would die.

Vejita stepped out from behind the curtains slowly, his melancholy, still red-tinged eyes studying the shaking woman as he approached. Then he knelt down beside her and reached out to turn her towards him. Shame and hurt were dominant in her features. "Don't feel shame, woman! Magdalene endured the same thing with my asshole father, and I am smart enough not to place the blame on you."

"It hurts so much," Bulma whispered, peering up at Vejita through watery cerulean eyes. "Oh Kami... it hurts..."

The prince gently returned her to a normal laying position and traced over her bruises, calculating. "These will heal in time," he assured her. "But in the meantime..." The Saiyan concentrated a small amount of ki into the tips of his fingers, just enough to warm them, and placed their soothing heat onto the worst of Bulma's bruises. "As for your interal injuries..." He meant the ones caused by Yamcha's disgusting manhood. "You've endured worse before, most likely, and know that time will take care of those. Then again, I could always heat my..."

Bulma made a tiny smile. "You're so different," she murmured, reaching out to trace his jawline with a shaky finger. "Why is it that we met now, when nothing can be done?"

Vejita could not deny that he had thought the same thing himself. "That's bullshit," he protested. "Something can be done, and it will be."

"Kami help us to recognized the proper time." Bulma attempted to move towards Vejita, but the movement clearly cost her too much. Vejita frowned and assisted her, so that her head was propped up against his chest.

And there they sat, in a comfortable silence, each wondering why life could be so unjust and unforgiving, with no signs of improvement in sight.
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Rhapsody~*
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FF.NET MEMBERS:: Hey everyone-- Yay! 300 reviews babay! Hopefully, with this longer, more action-packed (^_~) chapter, the response (as far as reviews go) will continue to soar. Thats all that I can hope for, you know? Well, I'm going to be at another horse show this weekend, so there won't be an update for another couple of days. But hey, you guys can wait! Right? .... Right? LOL, well please remember to REVIEW!!

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