Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Vengeance ❯ Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z, or any of the characters featured therein; they belong to Akira Toriyama and whoever he's decided to share them with.

Author's Notes: For your enjoyment, finally a chapter that contains some B/V interaction. Thanks for reading, folks.

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PRESENT DAY

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“It's…ah…good to see you Gohan.” Goku faltered, not really sure what to say. All through the walk to the ship, all through the launch procedures and the blast into space he'd thought of everything he wanted to tell his son, all the thoughts and feelings that were coursing through his brain and his heart that he wanted to share…and then he looked his child in the eye and words failed him completely. He'd never felt so awkward before, so lost and so unsure of himself.

“It's good to see you too, Dad.” Gohan grinned and looked furtively around to see that the saiyan men were paying attention to other things. Quickly, he dove in for a split second hug before retreating so that none of his comrades would see him. He scratched the back of his head and laughed self-consciously at his father's shocked face. “Sorry dad. They aren't big on hugs.” He shrugged, then looked over at Piccolo, who sat watching the whole exchange. “Good to see you, too, Mr. Piccolo.” Gohan bowed stiffly, as he would have done on Earth, and the green man grunted a greeting and looked away again, effectively dismissing the world around him.

Gohan turned back toward his father and was surprised at how much easier it was, compared to the reunion with his mother. Was it because Goku had always been the more easygoing parent, while Chichi's expectations had sometimes been impossibly high? Or was it that he expected his father to understand, as a male, the world of testosterone driven violence that he'd become part of? No, perhaps those things were part of it, but the real reason, he suspected, was because his father had become involved in Frieza's world, while his mother had been safely cocooned in Red Station all these years. Yeah, she was active in the resistance and went out every once in a while on a mission, but she'd not been subject to the sights of torture and death. She'd not had to kill anyone to ensure she stayed alive, she'd not gone hungry between meals or wondered if she'd taken her last breath.

Gohan was glad of it, of course; the thought of his mother having had to endure anything that he had, or even worse, that his father had, made his skin itch. Her isolation had kept her safe, and that was the big difference between them all. Goku and Gohan had not had the same luxury, and it had changed them both on some deeper level.

“So how did you find us?” Goku asked, not so much because he was curious, but because he felt a need to ask something other than How's your life been these last three years? Hopefully not as hellish as mine!

“Vegeta has contacts.” Gohan shrugged and sat down beside his dad.

“Vegeta's the short one, yeah?”

“Uh huh,” Gohan whispered, “but don't dare let him hear you say that.”

“Too late,” Radditz laughed from a few feet away as the prince's back stiffened. He crossed the room in a few strides and ruffled a big hand through Gohan's hair. Goku was struck by the resemblance between the two, and also by their easy manner. The other two were much more stiff in their mannerisms and Goku was glad that his son had at least had some form of friendly contact with his three guardians, even while he felt a small twinge of jealousy at the fact that someone else had taken his position as father for the past three years.

“So you're my…uh…brother, huh?” Goku looked up at the bigger man's face, trying to see some resemblance between himself and his supposed relative. Did he look like that? It had been so long since he'd looked in a mirror, he hardly remembered his own face. Radditz looked so much tougher, so much scarier than he could ever remember having appeared himself.

“Older brother.” Radditz amended sternly, then broke into a grin that showcased his impressive teeth. Goku knew that he at least shared those, though he wondered if his smile had ever looked so unintentionally menacing. Maybe his own canines weren't quite so pronounced. “It's good to see you, Kakarott. I remember watching as they stuffed your screaming carcass into a pod; Dad said you'd come back one day, but to be honest, I'd kind of stopped hoping. Man, do you ever look like him.” Radditz shook his head in wonder. “Like his twin.”

“R…really?” Goku asked, surprised that he found himself a little pleased to hear it. He'd never known his father, never even really known he'd had a father, so the sudden feeling of closeness was incredibly unexpected.

“His name was Bardock!” Gohan put in, looking up at Radditz for confirmation, even though he had it memorized.

“Bar-dock.” Goku repeated the name slowly, trying it out on his tongue. “Bardock.” He looked at Radditz. “What was out mother's name?”

“I hate to break up the little reunion,” Nappa stepped in just as Radditz opened his mouth to answer, “but Vegeta wants us all in the training rooms right away. That includes Kakarott and the green one.”

“Uh, right.” Radditz nodded, though his eyebrows drew together worriedly as he met Gohan's gaze.

“What's going on?” Gohan asked, as soon as Nappa had walked out of hearing range. “Why does he want us all in there?”

“He wants to test their strength, no doubt,” Radditz frowned thoughtfully, “though I really wish he'd waited a few days to let Kakarott rest up and eat something.”

“Uhh, my name is Goku.” Goku piped up, but Radditz ignored him.

“Why, by the Gods, does he want to do this now?” The long haired saiyan continued muttering to himself.

“No doubt he wants to check out the merchandise.” Piccolo's rough sarcasm surprised them all, as he'd hardly said a word since they'd brought him aboard. Something about the saiyans made him wary. He was trying to give them the benefit of the doubt, seeing as they'd just saved his ass from the closest thing to hell he'd ever seen, but the very smell of them set his nerves firing. Warriors always smelled the same - a tang of blood, sweat followed them everywhere, as though it clung to their very souls. It was the reek of power and ruthlessness, and most honourable warriors were not so ripe with it as the saiyans were.

Yet still, thought the part of him that was Kami, these three supposedly bloodthirsty killers had taken in a five year old boy and hadn't done too bad a job with him. He was alive, and yeah, maybe he'd not batted an eye when the man called Arxin had been murdered right in front of him, but he seemed like a decent enough kid, and Kami had been an excellent judge of character.

“Look,” Radditz said, with a sidelong glance at his brother, “let's not get all worked up over this. Surely Vegeta won't base his entire opinion of you guys on just one match when the two of you are both half starved. He knows better than that.”

“What's the big deal, anyway?” Goku sighed, feeling more tired and irritable than he could ever remember, now that he had the luxury to do so. Or at least he thought he did. Maybe he'd just left one form of slavery, only to be pulled into another.

“I said NOW!” Nappa boomed from across the room, and Gohan hopped quickly up from his seat.

“We'll talk later, dad.” He said, reaching a hand out to haul his father up by the arm. “C'mon. Vegeta doesn't like to be kept waiting. Mr. Piccolo…” he looked awkwardly toward the sour faced Namek who, despite his condition, Gohan still found incredibly intimidating. The man had been both God and the Devil, and even though it was only for one measly planet out of billions, Gohan still thought that deserved some respect.

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The first thing that Bulma noticed when she walked out of her room in the morning was that the package she'd left outside of Gero's lab was not there anymore. “Well, at least now I know he's not dead,” she shrugged, “or at least that Sixteen is taking care of things.”

“Glad to see you have so much concern for my wellbeing.” Came a dry voice from behind her.

“Gero!” She yelped, whirling around to face the old doctor.

“I admit, I would have come out much sooner, if someone had been timely in her delivery of my parcel,” he continued sourly as he moved to pass her in the narrow hall.

“Well if you wanted it done so quickly, maybe you should have done it yourself!” Bulma huffed and stood her ground as he bumped into her with his shoulder. If he wasn't going to be polite and say “excuse me” then she damn well wasn't going to move!

“I wasn't expecting you to go joyriding around the galaxy, on my time.” Gero said, stopping to turn and glare at her. “I'll have you know that your dawdling nearly cost me everything! It was all Sixteen could do to keep m-” he faltered, “the experiment stable!” Gero stood perfectly still, his eyes boring into her, yet from something in his voice, Bulma got the feeling that he was quite shaken by whatever had happened in the lab.

“Look, I didn't realize it was that big a deal,” Bulma backpedalled a little, feeling guilty as she saw how upset the doctor was getting. He'd never told her to hurry up and she was more than a little irritated to be blamed for almost ruining his experiment when she hadn't even realized there was a time limit being imposed on her trip. Really, why had he even begun the experiment, whatever it was, until he'd had all the important pieces ready to go? She cut off her train of thought right there. If she continued, she'd end up smack-dab in righteous-ville, and considering that the doctor had an ego at least the size of her own but none of her social graces, she knew they'd be slinging insults at each other soon if she didn't put a stop to it.

“Everything I do is a big deal!” snarled the doctor as wrenched his glare from her face and stalked away, leaving a stunned Bulma standing alone in the hall.

“Well!” she huffed aloud to herself, resisting the urge to cross her arms and stamp her foot. Not like it would make much of an impact, encased in slipper as it was. The rubber sole might make a little slap of a sound, but it wasn't like anyone else was even around to hear it. “Old bastard…” she muttered irritably. Had there been someone around she might have gone on a tirade about the doctor's lack of gratitude and respect, but she'd long ago learned that the walls don't ever care what you have to say. Bulma had more important things to do than stew over the old man's rudeness anyway, like getting herself a really big mug of coffee. She'd been up late last night, poring over her plans for the gravity chamber, trying to make a list of which parts she could re-purpose from things she already had lying around, and what she would need to purchase. Vegeta didn't exactly seem like a tightwad, but she figured he'd be more likely to hand over his money if he knew she was at least trying to save him some cash. Plus, she really hated the idea of begging anyone for money, and figured that if she had a comprehensive list of what she needed, she'd only have to ask once. Oh, how the mighty had fallen. Once upon a time, she wouldn't have batted an eye at such expense, but living frugal for three years had taught her a few things about wasteful spending that she'd been loathe to learn. Having a great idea for a brand new invention wasn't much fun if you didn't have the money to buy the necessary supplies to build it.

Bulma shuffled into the kitchen and over to the coffeepot, which was blessedly full and piping hot. “Mmm, fresh,” she inhaled as she poured, “and strong.” She blew over the surface of the steaming liquid and took a sip, feeling the warmth trickle its way down into her belly. She closed her eyes and wrapped both hands around her mug, taking a moment to simply enjoy the simple pleasure of hot coffee before she had to get back to work for the day.

“Mornin' Bulma” Krillin walked in, rubbing at one eye with the back of his hand. He yawned. “Hey, is that a new pot?”

“Yeah. Hope whoever made it didn't have big plans to save it!” Bulma laughed and pulled a mug down from the counter as Krillin tossed some bread into the toaster. “You take sugar, right?” She asked, and tossed in a spoonful when he nodded.

“Any plans for the day?” Krillin asked, and Bulma shrugged as she handed him his cup.

“Gravity room stuff again. Thought I'd go through my blueprints and notes and make a comprehensive list of what I need. Then I'll be able to figure out what I can recycle from other projects, and what I need to buy.” She sipped her coffee and grinned hopefully. “Then I get to go beg Vegeta for money.”

“Ooh, sounds fun,” Krillin snorted and took a sip. “Hmm, never tastes quite the same as Earth sugar, does it?” He sighed wistfully. “Oh well, what can you do, eh?”

Bulma laughed and took another gulp of her coffee before reaching for the pot to top up her half-empty mug. “Anyway, I've got to get to work on this list.”

“Sure, sure,” Krillin waved a hand, “you just don't want to hear my maudlin sugar musings, that's all.” He laughed and pulled his toast out of the toaster. “If you need any help, let me know.”

“Will do.” Bulma saluted with her free hand, which was really the wrong one for saluting, and made her way to the lab. In the end, she put off writing to Vegeta for another three days.

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Vegeta looked at the polite, professionally worded request for funds and almost grinned. It must have galled her so, to write this plea to him, knowing what he did of her personality. He wanted to laugh aloud, imagining all the writing and re-writing that must have gone on as she struggled both with her pride and of course, her lingering irritation with him. They had spoken a few times since they'd last seen one another, but their conversations were lacking in the personal tone they'd once held and were strictly business. He hated to admit it, but he missed the inanity of her conversation. The thought that she might never again get drunk and ask him ridiculous questions was strangely disheartening.

“Mine, mine mine,” muttered that angry part of his brain, and the rational part of Vegeta's mind wasn't so quick to disagree. He still didn't really like the idea of the `bonding' thing, but that didn't mean he had to stay away from her. In fact, if he refused to believe in it, refused to let Nappa's silly ideas influence him, then it would have no bearing on whatever they shared between them. He was attracted to her, no denying it, and he maybe even liked her, but that didn't have to mean they were stuck together forever, as Nappa liked to think. In fact, the whole bonding thing was probably some load of shit invented by his female ancestors in an attempt to hold on to their males. Just because generation after generation of his people had believed in it didn't make it real…lots of people believed in lots of dumb things.

Vegeta tried to put this particular dumb thing out of his mind. Really, he did. He had work to do, people to see, empires to bring down, but the thoughts just kept nagging at him. He enjoyed Bulma on a deeper level than he'd ever enjoyed any woman, so what the hell was his problem? Why was he thinking and thinking and overthinking his relationship with her? He liked to talk to her, and he also liked to fuck her, so why in hell was he resisting it? Damn Nappa and his crazy ideas, that's why!

When he thought really hard about it and was truthful with himself, Vegeta knew that he really wasn't averse to the idea of spending the rest of his life with the woman. That wasn't to say that he was currently pursuing such a course, but the idea didn't make his skin crawl. Then came Nappa with his mystical forces and fate, and suddenly Vegeta felt as though his affection for her was forced upon him. He liked her, but he didn't want to like her if that feeling wasn't really his own.

Ugh, did that even make sense? Vegeta wondered if he was finally losing it after so many years under Frieza's rule.

“You've been frowning at that email for ten minutes.” Gohan said, startling Vegeta from his thoughts and really embarrassing him. “Forget what Nappa said. If you like her, then you like her, right?”

“Fuck off, kid. You're eight, what do you know?” Vegeta snarled and clicked the message shut. Gohan shrugged and said nothing. He wanted to say something cliché like “I've never seen you so happy,” or “I'd never seen you smile so easily before,” which were both completely true statements, but he figured if he said something so sappy, Vegeta would be more likely to punch him in the head than take his advice. “I'm surprised you managed to pull yourself away from daddy long enough to come spy on me.”

“Actually I, uh,” Gohan faltered, looking at his feet ashamedly. “I wanted to talk to you about my dad. I think there's something wrong.”

“So you've finally noticed, have you?” Vegeta sneered and leaned back in his chair. Gohan ignored his tone and sat down in the other chair.

“What do you mean?”

“Ugh, Nappa and I have been watching him for a week now, while you and Radditz are so blinded by warm family feelings that you'd hardly notice if he were headless.” Vegeta rolled his eyes and picked a piece of lint from his knee. “Gods, at least if he were, I wouldn't have to look at that inane grin.”

“You have hardly looked at him.” Gohan pointed out, and then, “And I do know what you're talking about…I thought it would get better…that once he had food, a chance to train…” The boy faltered. “He's not getting any stronger.” He blinked back tears. “It seems like he's even weaker than when we were on Earth.”

“Oh, quit your blubbering.” Vegeta snapped. “He only seems weaker because you've gotten so much stronger. The wasting can't possibly have progressed far enough that he'd lose strength. It's only been a few years. But you are right; he's not getting stronger.” Vegeta didn't want to admit it, but he was just as disappointed as the kid was. They'd hoped that Kakarott would be at least as strong as his brother but he was useless to them as he was.

“Wasting? What is that?” Gohan asked, his voice trembling as though he was afraid to hear the answer.

“When a saiyan is subject to prolonged periods of malnutrition, his body will turn on itself. Right now, Kakarott's body is surviving by consuming his energy. Any progression he makes in power level is instantly used up, just to keep him functioning. This is why he is not growing stronger. Had his imposed starvation continued, eventually his power gains would be less than what his body needs for survival, which would have resulted in a reduction of his baseline power level, accompanied by physical wasting.” Vegeta sighed as he watched the first fat tears roll down Gohan's cheeks. “It is reversible,” he pointed out, almost feeling guilty at having upset his young subject, “with time and a proper regimen of eating, resting, and training.” Then, because he was feeling as though he'd been too nice, Vegeta dropped his next bombshell. “He will not be able to recover with us.”

“I didn't think so.” Gohan nodded sadly. “Tarble?” He asked, because he remembered hearing the name of Vegeta's brother being tossed around when they thought they would not keep him.

“No. Red Station.” The prince responded, “But don't think, for even a second, that we're leaving you there to play `happy family' too. You have work to do.” He warned, seeing the light in Gohan's eyes. “And don't forget where your loyalties lie. Now get out. I'm busy.” Vegeta dismissed the boy as he spun his chair around to face the computer screen once more. “And shut the door behind you!” He demanded, just before it clicked shut anyway. Fucking kid.

Shaking his head, Vegeta called up his comm-link and bade it to connect with Bulma's.

“Didn't anyone ever tell you,” he spoke the second she answered, “that when you ask somebody for a favour, you should really do it in person?”

“Hello to you too, Vegeta.” He heard her breathy sigh over the link and felt a tingle race through him. “And I don't know if I would really say I'm asking you a favour, since I'm building the gravity simulator at your request. And,” she added, “how do you expect me to ask you in person, when I usually have no idea where you're going to be? You've been off our radar for weeks now.” Vegeta could hear the complaint in her voice, imagined her standing with her hands on her hips, weight all resting on one leg with the other extended out to the side, foot tapping. He would have been disappointed to see that she was actually sitting in her chair, tinkering with some small project while she nagged him.

“Aww, did you miss me?” He purred, practically searing all her nerve endings through the speaker. Her grip on the soldering iron slipped as a sudden vision raced through her mind, of water sliding over skin, the feel of a slick brown tail sliding through her fingers.

“Shit!” Bulma cursed as the hot tool scraped over her circuit, leaving a streak of solder and ruining it in the process.

“I love it when you talk dirty,” Vegeta said dryly, over the clang of Bulma throwing the now useless contraption aside. Hours of work, down the drain.

“What do you want?” She demanded as she ripped the iron's cord from the outlet. “You hardly talk to me for months, and now you come online with your sex-voice, and-“

“Sex voice?” Vegeta cut her off with a laugh.

“Yes, you pig, your sex voice! All low and rumbly, and whenever you talk like that, all I can think of is you telling me to let my towel drop, and I think you know it, you bastard! You just made me trash so much work!” She shrieked, too irritated at her mistake to be embarrassed by what she was admitting.

There was a moment of silence on the other end before Vegeta spoke again. “Does thinking about that night make you hot?” He asked, “Does it make you wet?” Those words stopped her tirade and Bulma strained to hear a note of mockery in his voice but there was nothing she could detect. Was he serious? Who did he think he was, to run out on her and then suddenly start treating her like a chat-line operator?

“Wh…what are you doing?” She stuttered, confused. “Don't think you can treat me like garbage, then turn around and call me up for some…some phone sex!” She blurted, even as she considered locking the door to her lab. She was mad, completely indignant, and yet she couldn't help the memories coming to the fore.

“It makes me hard.” Vegeta continued as though she hadn't said anything, and Bulma nearly moaned aloud to hear him say it. “And when we get to Red, the first thing I'm going to do is take you to bed again.”

“Vegeta…I don't,” Bulma bit her lip and clamped her legs together. “Wait, what?” Her eyes popped open with realization. “When you get to Red? You're coming here?”

“Oh, didn't I tell you?” The prince sounded amused and Bulma couldn't tell whether or not she was being played with, “We're already on our way. ETA is about a week.”

“If you think you're getting back between my legs, Vegeta, you'd better think again!” She insisted, caught between desire and pride. She wanted him again, but she didn't want him to think he could just treat her like crap, have his way with her and toss her aside like so much garbage.

“Actually, I was thinking maybe you'd get between mine this time. I've imagined your lips around my cock since I first saw you.” Vegeta's rough, rumbling voice made her light headed and she actually blushed to hear his words. Had he just said what she thought he'd said? Was he messing with her? She hadn't thought of him as so forward, but then again, he had cornered her in the showers without warning.

“Vegeta, don't…” she paused, about to say don't talk to me like that, but then she thought differently about it. Maybe she'd let him get all riled up, let him think he was going to get some when he arrived, and then she'd flat out deny him. Only problem was that she'd never be able to resist him, and she knew it.

“Don't what?”

“Don't…don't use up all your energy before you get here.” Bulma breathed, and signed off before he got a chance to respond. She was hot all over, and she hadn't even really let him get to the good parts yet. The amazing thing about it was that she was pretty sure she was still really mad at him, yet she knew that if he were in the lab with her at that moment, she'd be on her back on the table. What the fuck was it about him? No other man had been able to piss her off and turn her on at the same time. Maybe saiyans exuded some kind of super-pheromone that made women - and Puars - everywhere fall to their knees and beg for it.

*

Vegeta groaned as the line went dead, allowing his head to fall back even as his fingers moved across the keyboard to terminate the program. He hadn't intended for the conversation to get so sexual, but the moment he'd heard her sigh, it had been like a switch was flipped in his brain and all he could think about were the sounds she'd made as he moved within her, the soft panting and moans of a desirable woman in the throes of release. The kind of woman who blushed with embarrassment, even as she boldly demanded to be fucked in a shower stall.

Gods, she made him hot. He'd actually intended to tell her about the visit, to tell her about Kakarott and his plans for the half-wit father of the surprisingly smart Gohan. He'd wanted to warn her, let her get all her foolish excitement out before he showed up so that he wouldn't have to watch her fawn all over the low class weakling like he knew she would. Her affection for absolutely everyone around her was trying, at times, and since he'd never had a platonic female friend of his own, he had a hard time imagining that nothing had ever gone on between Bulma and her `best friend Goku.'

Ugh, what a terrible name, Vegeta thought as he forced his attention to linger on the newest member of his little saiyan troupe. It was really too bad that they'd have to sent Kakarott away, but as he was, he wouldn't be of any use to them. There was no way he'd be able to recover from the wasting, surrounded by the stresses and demands of Frieza's army. Vegeta also recalled Gohan's initial meeting with Frieza quite clearly, and were he to take the father under their wing, the little lizard would most certainly be curious; Vegeta was certain Kakarott's meeting with the tyrant would end up just like his son's.

And Piccolo, the green man whom Gohan so respected, what would they do with him, should they keep Kakarott? Vegeta never took on anyone but other saiyans, so it would seem mighty odd for him to suddenly insist upon enlisting a Namek to his squad. No, they would both go to Red Station. Being with his mate would be good for Kakarott, according to Nappa, and Vegeta was inclined to agree. That, and he really didn't want to go see Tarble…

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…And though he didn't want to admit it, judging by the thoroughly unintended path of their conversation, he did really want to see Bulma.

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That's all for today, folks. I have to say, I'm happy to be taking these boys back to Red Station - that's where all the fun happens. ;3