Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unlikely Bond ❯ Attacked! ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or any of the characters! If I did, the anime would never end and GT would have never happened!
DBZ was created by Akira Toriyama and it is owed/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz.

Story notes: This takes place ten years after the Buu saga. The only differences I can think of is that the whole thing with the world tournament in the last episode never happened and Goku didn't leave to train Uub. I wouldn't count on anything from the movies being part of this story's time line either, 'cause I haven't seen them all and they usually don't fit into the show's time line anyway. Especially that Broly crap. Vegeta cried through, like, that whole movie! That certainly didn't happen in this story....but, that's a different rant altogether. Hope you enjoy!

PLEASE heed warning in story description!! If you missed it, this story is not for children! It is also not for people who do not like stories that contain elements of violence, strong language, adult situations, references to sex and sexual activity between men and women, and men and other men. Oh, and fictional alien men having babies...'cause that's a'happen' here folks...

To my wonderful, wonderful beta-reader, Rowina: Thank you, thank you....thank you... ^-^

It was a typical spring morning. Typical warm, sunny weather. Typical cool breezes and cloudless skies. Typical explosions on the Capsule Corp. grounds.

After the trembling of the Earth subsided, Bulma rushed from her lab to the back yard where capsule 3 sat cockeyed on two of it’s three support legs. Tendrils of smoke rose from the metal frame and the steel let out a whine of protest as the hatch popped open.

Bulma smirked and folded her arms over her chest as she watched her husband descend the ramp, casually batting at the dust on his training uniform.

“Just couldn’t go one week without breaking it, huh?” she asked, walking forward to meet him on the lawn.

“If you would make a capsule with enough strength to adequately test my power, they would spend more time out of your workload than in.” he grumbled, but without conviction. “You’d think after all these years you would have collected enough data to accomplish that.” he stopped in front of the woman, and looked down into her near smiling face.

“And you would think, after all these years,” she replied, raising her hands to brush the tiny particles of debris off his shoulders. “That you would realize that even my genius cannot construct a machine that can withstand your power.” Vegeta’s eyebrow twitched from the compliment, but his hands remained at his sides as hers slid around his neck. “Because you just grow stronger, all the time.”

“Well...” he began, a hand moving to rest emmotionlessly on the small of her back. “If you must make excuses...” She giggled and placed her forehead against his shoulder. “You will fix it.” Years ago that statement might have been a harsh command, but today, it was more a question.

“Of course, my dear.” Bulma sighed, taking his gloved hand and leading him to the house. “After lunch.”

It had been ten years since the battle with Buu. Ten years of changes. Ten years of things staying the same. And although Vegeta let Bulma keep his hand clasped in hers, she knew it was only because they were home alone. He was still proud and arrogant and defiantly still rough around the edges, but he was settled. And they both knew it.

Vegeta slid into a chair at the kitchen table, removing his gloves and laying them across his knee. Bulma continued into the kitchen and punched into the refrigerator computer her meal requests.

“Hey mom. Papa.” the greeting came from their eighteen year old son Trunks. He smiled warmly as he joined them in the room, sitting opposite his father, who gave a nod in return.

“Hi sweetie,” Bulma replied. “You’re just in time for lunch.”

“Great!” Trunk’s smile broadened. “I’m starved. Goten and I worked up an appetite today!” Vegeta smirked.

“Not from training, I’ll bet.” he grumbled. Trunks blushed, feeling awkward. He knew his father wanted him to be the world’s strongest fighter, but it didn’t occur to him why. The world was peaceful now. Self-consciously he ran a hand through his lavender locks.

“No...keeping up with Bulla and Pan. How we let them talk us into taking them to mall is beyond me.” he smiled a thank you to Bulma as she sat glasses of lemonade before him and his father. Vegeta picked his up, but asked before drinking.

“Where is the girl now?”

Trunks swallowed, setting his empty glass back down.

“She is going back to Pan’s house for lunch. Goten said he’d fly ‘em there. She said mom said it was okay.”

“As if I could say no.” Bulma laughed. “That little girl is just as stubborn as some full grown men I know.” She glanced to her husband as she spoke. He was only smirking arrogantly. “Well, enjoy.” She sat on the table before they several plate of various breads and meats. She had learned with Saiyan its was all about quantity, variety....and quantity...

Before Bulma could plate anything for herself, the phone rang and she rose to answer it.

“Brief’s residence!” she spoke cheerfully into the receiver. “Oh, hello Videl.”

“Hello, Mrs. Briefs. I’m sorry to disturb you. Is Pan there?”

“No. Trunks said that Goten should be bringing them there any moment though.”

“Oh,” Videl didn’t sound reassured. “In that case, they probably got side-tracked.” she giggled then. “Your daughter has my brother-in-law wrapped around her little finger.” Bulma glanced over at her husband.

“Among others...” she replied.

“Well, I’m sorry to bother you again. I told her to be home promptly at lunch time.” Bulma tried to reassure her.

“Well, if they aren’t there in the next ten minutes, I’ll send Trunks after them - “ her words were cut off by the violent scraping of chairs across the hardwood floor. Bulma spun to see Vegeta dash from the kitchen, Trunks hot on his heels. The receiver fell from her hands as she rushed through the house in time to see the pair blast off into the sky. “What the hell!” she exclaimed.

Quickly, she returned to the phone.

“I’m sorry, Videl.” she spoke, nervously worrying the collar of her shirt with her fingers. “Vegeta and Trunks just left in quite a hurry.”

“What?”

Bulma shrugged.

“They just took off! I don’t know why, but it has to be important. Vegeta knocked his chair clean over and Trunks... well....and it’s lunch time....Damn I wish I could fly!” Videl was quiet for a moment.

“You...you don’t think something is wrong do you? Something....bad...”

Bulma walked back through the house to look back at the sky where her husband and son had disappeared moments ago.

“I don’t know, Videl.” she responded quietly. “But....I think I’m going to ring Goku....”

“He’s out with Gohan.” Videl told her. “I’ll try Gohan’s cell.”

Bulma nodded although the action was not visible to Videl.

“Call me back if you get through first?” Bulma asked.

“Of course.”

Bulma clicked off the phone, cradling it nervously against her chest.

“Vegeta...” she breathed, starring into the endless blue sky. “What are you up too...”


~~~~~~~~~~


Trunks had felt it seconds after he saw his father react. He wasn’t so sure that if Vegeta hadn’t moved he would have felt it at all.

It was a power fluctuation, quite large actually, close to city. But, it wasn’t that which he was sure moved his father to such speed, but the feeling that accompanied it. Fear. Bulla’s fear.

Trunks banked to his father’s left, trying to stay out of the harsh blast of Ki and wind resistance. He was several kilometers behind, but the power his father was burning was intense and left an almost visible break in the atmosphere. He wanted to call to him to slow down, but it was pointless. His father wouldn’t decrease his speed one knot and Trunks wouldn't have really desired it. Not if his little sister was in danger.

“I should have stayed with them!” he berated himself. “What if....”

He didn’t have time to complete the thought as Vegeta had dove sharply toward the ground. Trunks decelerated before diving. Trying to copy his father might have gotten him a broken bone trying to change direction against such strong wind.

On the ground below, several large men stood in a semi circle near the three young Saiyans. One had Bulla quite firmly in his grasp, despite her struggles. The other six were occupied with fighting Goten and Pan.

Vegeta barely let his boots touch the pavement before launching himself toward the group. One of the men turned, shouting something Trunks couldn’t comprehend, and the man holding Bulla disappeared into thin air.

His baby sister with him.

Trunks felt his heart leap into his throat. His father’s roar filled his ears and he was momentarily paralyzed. What the hell was going on here.

Vegeta was incensed at seeing the man with his hands on his daughter. Who would dare touch something so precious to him! He threw himself toward the first obstacle in his path. Before his fist connected with his target, the man turned and shouted something to his accomplice

Vegeta felt a sharp tug at his heart. What did that man say? It wasn’t any Earth language.

It didn’t matter, his fist struck flesh, bone. There was a snap and a warm spray of blood flowed over Vegeta’s gloveless fist. In his ears he could hear Trunks grunts of battle and for a split second he wanted his son far away in safety.

“Goten!” Pan shouted, seeing her uncle knocked to the ground. Trunks followed her gaze in time to see another of there brutish attackers disappear with his best friend.

“No!”

Who were these bastards! There was something eerily familiar about them, and Trunks couldn’t put his finger on it.

The man fighting Pan pushed her to the side to join his comrades who had their hands full with Vegeta. Pan rushed to Trunks’ side, as his opponent too rushed to take on the enraged Prince.

“What do we do!” She shrieked, grabbing his sleeve.

“Your Grandpa! Go get Goku!” he said, grabbing her by the arms. “Fly fast! And don’t look back! Fly until you find him!”

Vegeta was no longer thinking. His body was on autopilot, hypnotized in a bloody trance that he almost forgot existed. Muscle ripped and bones broke under his will. He mustn’t kill them, a small voice beckoned in the back of his mind. They know where she is.

The one who appeared to lead the group shouted something again, and the men retreated a distance from the battle. Vegeta crouched low in an attack stance but let them regroup. Let them try their best.

The man spoke to him directly this time.

Trunks watched in disbelief at the scene before him. His limbs shook with the adrenaline rush of battle, but he remained stationary behind his father, waiting for the fight to resume. One of the attackers spoke something to Vegeta. The sound was harsh and guttural, foreign to Trunks ears...or was it. He watched as his father’s body posture change. Vegeta stood from his crouched position, but his body was still taut with energy. Trunks eyes grew wide when the same sound of words came from his fathers lips.

“You...You’re Saiyans.” Vegeta spoke, the language he had long since feared dead tasting strange on his tongue.

The man before him let his tail slowly unwind from where is lay coiled at his waist for dramatic emphasis.

“Yes.” he replied.

Trunks mouth went slack. Saiyans?

Vegeta’s hand tightened into fists and he crouched again into fighting stance.

“Then return those children!” he roared. “You must obey me! I am son of Vegeta, King of the Saiyans!”

~~~~~~~~~~