Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Whatever It Takes ❯ Chapter 3

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

AN: I don't have much to say this time around except that I hope everyone who has read this story so far has been enjoying it. I know that so far it doesn't exactly follow the story summary that I gave it, but unfortunately for Vegeta it definitely will soon enough. These first few chapters are laying the groundwork. Next to come will be some more major character development, then the angst will start and the summary will make sense. ;) Let me know what you think! Any thoughts would be appreciated.

Special thanks go to my better half for reading this for me and offering several particularly good suggestions.


Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.


Chapter Three

"Mom, do we have anything that Vegeta can wear until I can get him his own stuff?" Bulma asked. She took a piece of fruit from the bowl on countertop and began to nibble on it.

"What's he wearing now?" Mrs. Briefs turned away from the stove to see their scowling guest wearing one of her husband's terry cloth bathrobes which, because of his heavily muscled build, was far too small for him. "Oh no, you can't wear that all day, dear," she agreed with a giggle. "Let's see... It's a nice day out. I know. You could wear a pair of shorts that I just bought for Bulma's father. I don't know about the shirts, though. They'd probably be too small for a strong young man like you," she contemplated.

"Whatever," Vegeta groused. "As long as I don't end up looking like an old geezer."

Mrs. Briefs burst out into peals of laughter. "Oh my, but you're such a delightful young man," she decided. "You and Bulma go ahead and sit down. Breakfast is almost ready." She hummed contentedly to herself as she transferred food from pots on the stove into serving bowls and set them on the table.

Bulma frowned. "Moooom! Come on. Couldn't we have something traditionally breakfasty for breakfast today?" she complained, eyeing the meal her mother was placing on the table.

"Whatever do you mean, dear?" Mrs. Briefs sounded confused. "Rice is traditional breakfast food-"

"I know that, Mom. I meant pancakes, or waffles, or muffins," Bulma interrupted. "We eat rice all of the time. Why not some Eastern fare once in a while?"

Mrs. Briefs thought about it. "I suppose I could make pancakes for breakfast tomorrow," she agreed. "For now, is this okay?"

Vegeta's stomach growled at the sight and smell of the food on the table. "I don't care what it is," he retorted. "I'm hungry." He sat himself down at the table.

"I guess that answers that question," Bulma mused, taking a seat next to him.

***

Vegeta stared at the long, smooth wooden sticks that lay across the upper edge of his plate. "What the hell are these for?" he asked, picking them up to inspect them.

"They're chopsticks," Bulma informed him. "Watch what I do." She picked her own pair up and skillfully proceeded to demonstrate their use.

Vegeta watched her skeptically. "You expect me to eat in a civilized fashion with a couple of twigs?" he scoffed.

"If you can't manage the chopsticks I'll get you a knife and fork," Bulma retorted, obviously insulted by the dig at her culture.

"Don't presume to tell me what I can and cannot do," he snapped, snatching up the offending 'twigs' and positioning them between his fingers.

"Like this," Bulma said softly, showing him again. "It just takes a little practice." She took his hand in hers and positioned the chopsticks.

Vegeta scowled as he watched the woman demonstrate how to properly pick up food with her own two sticks. He wasn't coordinating this right.

"Vegeta?" Bulma watched him stare at his chopsticks for a moment before switching them from his right hand to his left. "Oh! You're left-handed. Well, just do everything opposite, see?"

He snorted at her feeble attempt to eat with the 'twigs' using her left hand. "I think you were better off before, Woman," he commented dryly as she accidentally sent food flying across the table.

Bulma decided not to become offended again by her guest's behavior. He wasn't used to being cordial, had just been through a horrific experience involving his own death, for Kami's sake, and was suddenly forced to adjust to life on a completely different planet and its culture. She really should just cut the poor man some slack. She allowed a giggle instead, trying to lighten the mood. "You think?"

He gave her a sideways look.

"It's just an expression. Of course you think," Bulma murmured, laying a hand over his. "Let's try this again." She placed the chopsticks between her fingers. "Don't move both of them. Just this one, see? And we pick up the food or scoop it up. You shouldn't stab your food with them." She winced; he had been doing just that.

He growled. ~This is ridiculous!~ "How am I supposed to eat tiny little grains of rice with these?"

***

Vegeta finished his fourth serving of food and laid the chopsticks down across the top of his plate as he'd seen Bulma and her mother do. Once he'd gotten the concept of chopsticks down, he'd become quite adept with them rather quickly. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and let out a satisfied sigh. The Prince of All Saiyans would let nothing come between himself and his food, especially eating utensils, no matter how odd he had originally found them to be.

"Have you had enough, dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked cheerfully. "I can get you something else if you're still hungry."

"I am adequately satisfied, yes," Vegeta responded. "The meal was tastefully prepared and provided the needed sustenance."

"Oh, wonderful! I'm glad." Mrs. Briefs beamed happily, figuring that this was his way of saying he liked the meal. Such a dear boy this Vegeta was! "Bulma, why don't you take Vegeta to try on some of those clothes I was telling you about?" she suggested. "They're in a basket of laundry on my bed that I haven't put away yet."

"Okay, Mom." Bulma picked up her plate.

"No, that's all right. I'll get the dishes, dear. You take good care of our guest." Mrs. Briefs winked at her daughter. She did hope that Bulma found him attractive. He seemed to be such a keeper. And what beautiful grandchildren she'd get if Bulma did decide she liked him!

Bulma blushed. "Moooom! Come on, Vegeta. Let's go find those clothes," she grumbled, embarrassed by her mother's blatant comments. "For Kami's sake..."

Vegeta allowed her to tow him along with her, his curiosity about the odd behavior of these crazy human females winning out over propriety. "What's wrong with you, Woman?"

"Oh, Mom obviously finds you to be a 'handsome young man' who would be good for me, because she's acting so silly and dropping all of these hints," Bulma said darkly.

"Hints?"

"You know, like how she winked and said I should 'take good care' of you. Like she knows what's going on between us behind closed doors." Her blush deepened.

Vegeta's confused frown disappeared when he realized what Mrs. Briefs had meant. She wasn't referring strictly to his basic personal needs required for survival. "Ahhh... I see," he purred. "Perhaps your mother is not as silly as you think. She did, after all, recognize a good thing when she saw me. She is only looking out for her daughter's best interests." He smirked at her.

"Oh, I'm glad you're so humble," Bulma commented with a roll of her blue eyes. She sighed. "I wonder if she actually does know or if she just thinks we would make a cute couple?" She opened her parents' bedroom door and spied the basket of laundry.

~Cute, ugh!~ Vegeta followed her in and shut the door behind her. "Does it matter?" he asked in a husky voice. "Either way she is expecting that you should be 'taking care' of me if you aren't already. Sounds like a good plan to me." He maneuvered her toward the bed.

"Vegeta, eew! In my parents' room, on their bed? No way," Bulma objected. "Besides, haven't we already done it enough this morning to make you happy?"

Vegeta chuckled throatily. "You cannot get too much of a good thing, Woman," he advised her, his hands moving to undo her shirt.

Bulma blushed, flattered by the implication. "Vegeta, I- ah!" She gasped as his hand slipped inside her shirt. "J-just not here. It's too creepy."

"Hmph." Vegeta copped one last feel before retrieving his hand. "Show me the garments," he demanded.

Bulma couldn't help but giggle. "You're cute when you pout."

"I am not pouting," Vegeta told her, scowling. "And I most certainly am not cute."

She merely smiled demurely and pulled a pair of shorts out of the basket. "These might work," she mused, holding them up to his hips. "They have an elastic waist, which helps." She opened one of the drawers of a dresser against the wall. "Try these boxers on first."

"What for? The other garments seem to be of better quality materials than these," Vegeta objected distastefully. "These also have dots on them. They are hideous. I will not wear them." He crossed his arms stubbornly.

"Vegeta, they're undergarments meant to be worn underneath your every day clothes," Bulma explained. "No one will see them. They just keep your clothes fresher, that's all."

"Strange human customs," he complained, but slipped out of his robe and into the silk underwear anyway.

Bulma frowned. "They're too small. That can't be comfortable."

"Not really," Vegeta told her curtly. "They pinch in a very bad spot."

"I see that. We don't want to damage the goods now, do we?" Bulma purred, tossing him a wink. "Try these on instead. They're stretchier."

"What are they?" Vegeta eyed the proffered undergarment suspiciously.

"They're briefs, and they're made of cotton instead of silk, so they'll stretch a little more."

Vegeta accepted the briefs and eyed them with open distaste. "The old man has worn these?"

"Your own unworn underwear will be the first thing we buy you, okay?" Bulma promised. "Please do this for me. It's proper etiquette. Besides," she added hastily, seeing by the roll of his eyes that he didn't really care about Earth protocol involving undergarments, "while you're trying on clothes, you don't want people thinking you're too poor for underwear, do you?"

"Poor?"

"Yeah. I know Goku hated wearing underwear-"

"Give me the garment, Woman," Vegeta insisted, snatching up the briefs and slipping them on.

"Hmmm." Bulma giggled. They were snug enough that they didn't leave much to the imagination. "Nice."

"They're still too small," Vegeta noted, "although the material is more like what I am accustomed to."

"Oh, like your uniform. How could I forget?" Bulma actually wasn't likely to forget how that particular spandex garment fit any time soon. "Like I said, we'll get you something today."

There was a knock at the door. "Bulma dear, is everything all right in there?"

"Uhm, fine Mom. Don't come in yet-"

There was a squeal and a giggle from the hallway. "I told you to take care of our guest, but I didn't think you'd be so quick to-"

"Mother!" Bulma shouted, her face turning red. "I just meant that Vegeta doesn't need to model everything for you!" she exclaimed.

"Oh." Mrs. Briefs sounded disappointed. "That's too bad, dear."

Vegeta snickered. "I told you she's not as silly as you think."

Bulma ignored him and opened the door enough to peek out. "Come on, Mom. As if I'd do that in my parents' room. Gross!"

Mrs. Briefs giggled, and a naughty expression crept over her normally sweet and innocent face. "Bulma, if you knew how many rooms in this house that your father and I-"

"Okay, too much information," Bulma insisted.

"Don't worry, Woman. We will go to your room to screw if you're more comfortable with that," Vegeta commented innocently.

"Vegeta, don't encourage my mother!" Bulma went even redder as she shut the door on her excited mother. "Let's just find you something to wear and get out of here!"

***

They pulled up in front of West Capital Mall shortly after. "Here we are," Bulma announced. She got out of the car. "Aren't you coming?"

Vegeta scowled. There were people milling around everywhere. "This doesn't look like my idea of an enjoyable way to spend my day, Woman."

Bulma felt a rush of sympathy wash over her. He wasn't used to this kind of life and no doubt found it overwhelming. She went over to the passenger side of the vehicle and opened the door, then leaned down to talk to him. "I know, Vegeta. I'm sorry. The mall can be a little crazy at times, but it just opened not too long ago so it shouldn't be too bad yet. I'll try to get us in and out of there, I promise. Then we can go have lunch and you can do whatever you want for the rest of the afternoon."

A smirk slowly tugged at Vegeta's mouth. "Whatever I want for the rest of the afternoon, you say?"

Bulma blushed. "You're insatiable, you know that? Tell you what. I'll buy something to wear, too. For you, that is." She winked flirtatiously. "The sooner we get in there, the sooner we can leave."

The smirk became a broad grin and he climbed out of the vehicle. "I'm holding you to that, Woman."

Bulma pressed a button on the vehicle, causing it to disappear, and a small object lay on the pavement in its place. She felt bad when Vegeta jumped and exclaimed something in a language she did not understand.

"Damn it Woman, why didn't you tell me you were going to do that?" he complained, embarrassed by his reaction.

"I'm sorry. I guess everyone else I normally hang out with is used to it, so I forgot you're not," Bulma told him in a soft voice. "I'll tell you next time." She took his hand. "Come on, let's go inside."

Vegeta removed his hand from hers, ignoring the hurt in her eyes. "I am not a child. I do not require assistance to get to the building," he informed her.

"That's fine," she said in a quiet voice. Again, she reminded herself that he wasn't used to any of this or to being shown any type of positive attention or affection, and to be patient.

They entered the mall in silence. "We'll go get your undergarments first," Bulma finally spoke. "The best store for that is on the third floor." She turned to him. "Are you okay with elevators?"

Vegeta shrugged, having no idea what an 'elevator' was. "Whatever."

"Good. That'll be the best way. There's one over there." Bulma pointed to a nearby elevator.

"Oh, those things. I never heard them called elevators before. I detest those contraptions. Filthy boxes filled with disease-ridden people and screaming brats," Vegeta complained.

Bulma couldn't help but giggle. "Sometimes it seems that way. But I can't fly, so we don't have any other option but the stairs." She leaned in. "I'll make sure I get something especially sexy," She whispered. "Maybe a hot little red something-or-other."

She heard him let out a low growl and he headed for the elevator without another word.

***

"Do they fit?"

Vegeta smoothed the silky fabric of the boxers he was wearing. He had never owned undergarments made of silk before. Clothing, yes, when he was a very small child, but never undergarments. He decided that he did indeed like them. Silk was definitely appropriate royalty wear. "They fit," he responded from the other side of the changing room door.

"Are they comfortable? If you don't like the fabric, there are other types," Bulma suggested.

"No, the silk fabric is acceptable," he decided. "These and the stretchy ones will be fine."

Bulma was a little surprised by the pleasant tone to his voice. "Oh. Good. Okay, come on out and pick some colors, and we'll go."

To her further surprise, the changing room door opened. "Give these to the attending servant," he instructed. He held out a rumpled pile of rejected items.

Bulma giggled and took the underwear from him. "I meant get dressed again first," she told him. "But those do look nice, and comfortable too. I think you'll really like the silk." Her lips curved up. "Appropriate for royalty, hmm?"

Vegeta nodded. "It is," he agreed.

"Good." She spied the sad looking pair of briefs he'd worn to the store on a chair in the corner of the room. "Here, give me those and I'll tell the salesman that you'll wear the ones you have on out."

He handed her the underpants, which she shoved into her purse with a little giggle. "Okay, let's get going. We still have lots to look at."

"Including my something for you for me," Vegeta reminded her. He unabashedly pulled on his shorts without bothering to close the door.

~At least no one else is in here right now.~ "I haven't forgotten," she told him softly. His voice had had a definite suggestive tone to it, and she wondered if he really did desire her all that much or if he just found her to be a convenient sexual outlet. Either way, she couldn't help but blush.

He saw it and smirked at her as he shoved his feet into the loafers they'd found in Dr. Briefs' closet. "Let's go, Woman."

"So, did you find anything you liked, sir?" the salesman oozed as they exited the dressing room area. His voice made Vegeta's skin crawl; it reminded him of some of the soldiers he'd purged planets with who preferred males over females when indulging in their pleasures.

And of someone else he couldn't stand. Vegeta barely managed to suppress a shudder of revulsion, willing the unpleasant memories that were surfacing back to the recesses of his mind.

"Not these," Bulma told the man, shoving the extra underwear in his hands. "But we want some of these briefs, and he's still wearing the black silk boxers."

"Ooooh, those are nice, I agree! And I'll bet they look just smashing on!" The man chuckled. "So, how many pair of each would you like and what colors?"

Bulma turned her attention to the Saiyan standing back from them. "Vegeta?"

"I don't care. Just pick some for me."

Vegeta didn't seem to be in the same good mood that he'd been in only moments earlier, so Bulma simply bought him a varied selection of plain neutral colors and herded him out of the store. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked.

He could hear the concern in her voice. "Fine, Woman. Let's just hurry up so we can get out of here." It wasn't as if he was going to tell her the truth- that the effeminate traits the salesman had exhibited reminded him of Frieza and his fondness for young Saiyans that he could whip into whatever shape he desired.

Especially the ones who resisted. Those were the most delicious to tame.

"He was a little foppish, that's all. It's not like he was staring or hitting on guys or anything." Bulma shrugged. "Okay, we need to get you shoes and socks, some pants, shirts- oh! A swimsuit. I need to buy you some swim trunks. I should just take you to my tailor and have him measure you. I know, I could have him fit a suit for you! That would be sexy..."

Vegeta frowned. "Just how many garments do you think I need, Woman?"

"Just how much lingerie do you think I should buy?" Bulma countered. "I'll be shopping while you're being fitted." She winked at him.

***

They had been shopping for over two hours, and the iced tea Bulma drank was starting to go through her. Her eyes scanned the corridors for the restroom she knew was nearby and finally spied it. "Oh, a restroom with no lines. Good."

Vegeta eyed the blue-haired devil who had dragged him shopping with her. If she hauled him into one more store like the last one they'd been in, or if one more human imbecile bumped into him or absentmindedly walked in front of him while speaking into one of those annoying electronic devices everyone was using, he was going to lose it and blast them into atoms. "What are you talking about, Woman?"

"I have to go to the bathroom. Do you have to go?" Bulma shoved the capsule containing their purchases into her purse.

He frowned. "Can't you wait until we go back to your home?"

"I could if we went straight home, but don't you want to get lunch too?" she reminded him. "I have a couple of places in mind. If you don't want to eat out, I guess Mom could fix something."

Visions of a table full of idiotic Namekians unsuccessfully attempting to escape the blonde one's coaxing as she shoved food they didn't want in front of them fluttered through Vegeta's mind. Even if she wasn't annoying them, thoughts of being trapped in the house with the green beings made him cringe. The longer he could stay away from them the better- perhaps the public restrooms Bulma had told him about wouldn't be as bad as he pictured they'd be. "No, we will use these facilities," he decided. "I will wait for you here." He headed for the restrooms.

"Vegeta, wait!" Bulma rushed after him.

"What now, Woman?" he asked irritably.

She pointed as inconspicuously as possible to the next doorway over. "That one's yours."

He growled irritably. That would have been embarrassing. "I knew that, Woman." He stalked into the men's room, where a couple other men were already using the facilities. ~Forced to relieve myself in plain view of other males. How primitive.~ The battlefield was one thing, but this was an expensively constructed public place. He shoved the unpleasant thoughts to the back of his mind and stepped up to the row of urinals, selecting the one farthest away from the door.

Two other patrons came into the restroom. One went directly into a stall and shut the door. Vegeta mentally cringed as an offensive noise and a satisfied groan of "oh, yeah..." came from inside the stall.

The other man was whistling absently to himself. He checked his appearance in one of the mirrors on the wall before heading over to the urinals.

~Don't come over next to me. Don't come over- damn it, there are four others! Why must this idiot stand directly next to me?~ Vegeta suppressed a growl. Stupid humans and their stupid customs.

The man's obnoxious whistling suddenly stopped and he gasped. "I don't believe what I'm seeing!"

The hair on the back of Vegeta's neck stood up and the urge to kill someone became even stronger. This guy would do just fine. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," he snarled, quickly finishing up and stepping away. "You pervert, I ought to-" He too found himself surprised. "You! I know you! You're one of Frieza's lieutenants," he accused.

As far as anyone knew, Vegeta was one of two things to the Cold empire- a deserter or possibly dead, if word had gotten back that Frieza had killed him on Namek. It mattered little to him which that was. If this scumbag did manage to contact the Colds, they would be after him instantly. He was finally free of them. No way was he going back to being their slave.

"Isn't this my lucky day. There's a bounty on your head, and it looks as though I'll be getting that promotion I've been wanting after all." The man's eyes narrowed and he sneered.

"It'll be more like a demotion when I'm done with you," Vegeta hissed, ignoring the patrons who wisely rushed out of the restroom.

"Don't make me laugh, monkey prince," the man said mockingly. "Now, come along like a good little boy and I won't rough you up too badly."

***

Bulma frowned. "And here I thought women took forever in the bathroom," she muttered, looking down at her watch impatiently. "I hope he was listening when I explained-" Her head snapped up when a shout came from the men's restroom, followed by a yell that was abruptly cut off. Her eyes widened. Surely Vegeta wasn't doing anything stupid in there.

She hoped to Kami he wasn't, anyway.

Her prayers were answered when momentarily Vegeta exited the men's room and made his way over to her. "What on Earth happened in there, Vegeta?" she gasped.

"Nothing, Woman. I relieved myself. What did you expect to happen?" he asked, giving her a scowl.

"But I... somebody was yelling in there!" she exclaimed.

Fortunately for him she had missed seeing the other patrons hurriedly leaving the restroom. "Some stupid brat causing trouble, that's all."

Bulma groaned. "Vegeta, please tell me you didn't kill anyone," she pleaded.

He scowled again. "Woman, no humans were harmed in there. Do you automatically expect me to blast some brat when I haven't blasted anyone else who has annoyed me all day? Come along now," he told her, steering her aside just as mall security ran over to the bathroom.

"Well..." She didn't see his self-satisfied smirk as the uniformed men entered the restroom, her attention diverted to a dress she saw in a store window. "Oh, that's just gorgeous. Don't you think that's gorgeous, Vegeta? I think I'll try that on..."

"Sure, sure. Whatever," he responded halfheartedly. No humans had been hurt and he'd certainly found relief during the trip to this stupid mall by ridding himself of one of Frieza's top orderlies. Soon the woman would feed him. Perhaps this hadn't been a wasted trip after all.

***

"No, sir. I assure you, nothing happened in here. There was a young man who caused a slight disturbance when he annoyed another patron, but he and the other man are gone now. The whole incident took place when I was inside that stall. Nothing serious happened." The man smiled reassuringly.

The security officer nodded. "All right. Thank you for your statement." It didn't appear that anything had gone wrong. The floor was a little wet, but that wasn't uncommon. People were just messy, especially when they didn't have to clean up after themselves. The people who reported two men arguing in the restroom were probably just concerned that the situation might escalate into a fight. He probably would have done the same thing in their shoes.

"Oh, you're so very welcome. I'm glad I could be of assistance." The man watched the security officers leave the restroom before letting a wicked smirk spread over his face. So, his superior officer who had treated him like dirt had thought he'd get a promotion by bringing in Prince Vegeta, did he? "Too bad you're just a fine atomical mist now," he said sarcastically. His superior had held the only communicator when Vegeta had killed him- who knew the prince cleaned up after himself?- but he knew that the sooner he could find a transport off of this mud ball, the sooner he could get in contact with the Colds, then he'd be the one to be rewarded. "Now who's laughing last?"

***

"We were only here for three hours and got everything done. See, that wasn't so bad now, was it?" Bulma asked good naturedly as they left the mall. She was actually quite pleased by their shopping excursion that morning. Aside from the way it had started out it had gone very well, and Vegeta had been surprisingly cooperative. "You have some really nice new clothes and we can get some lunch while we're out." She giggled when Vegeta's stomach growled at the mere mention of food. How he could be hungry again already was beyond her, especially after she'd bought him three pretzels, a footlong hot dog, a large meat supreme pizza, a frozen slushie and a whole batch of frosted cinnamon rolls from the food court.

"Yes, feed me at once, Woman," he demanded.

Bulma shook her head. "I swear you Saiyans are bottomless pits. Is there anything in particular you're in the mood for?" she asked. "There's a lot we can choose from in West Capital City."

"Meat," Vegeta responded without hesitation. "I desire meat." That pizza had really appealed to him. He decided he rather liked pizza.

Bulma's lips curled up into a devilish grin. "I know just the place."

***

Vegeta wasn't sure about this establishment. It was worse than the mall. It was loud, dimly lit and had various decorations and video boxes displaying local events, sports games, and other programming on the walls. The servants wore odd-looking hats, boots and very short pants, and the music was unlike anything he'd ever heard before.

Bulma noticed his trepidation and smiled encouragingly. "I know it might seem a little rowdy," she acknowledged, "but the food will make up for it. Trust me." She patted his arm, coaxing him along as their hostess led them to a booth.

"Your waitress will be right over. Enjoy your meal," the hostess told them cheerily as she placed a menu at either side of the booth.

Vegeta eyed her warily as she smiled and left. "What is the problem with the females around here today?" he asked irritably.

"What do you mean?" Bulma motioned that he should sit down and slid into the seat across from him.

"They are staring," he told her. "Some of them attempt to hide it, but others do not."

Bulma giggled. "Well, you do look good enough to eat," she purred, eyeing him above her menu. He was wearing a pair of jeans, a snug fitting Titans t-shirt and sneakers they'd purchased that morning, and she was having trouble keeping her own thoughts chaste. "I was thinking about forgoing lunch and skipping right to dessert, myself." Her toe rubbed against his leg ever so slightly under the table.

Her actions and the lusty look she gave him caught him off guard and he blushed before he could contain his reaction, but recovered quickly. "Well, I am genetically superior," he reminded her haughtily. "I suppose I cannot blame them, since human males obviously cannot measure up."

Bulma giggled again and went back to her menu. "I usually come here with my parents or friends, so you're a new face. Maybe that could be part of it." She paused. He hadn't even touched his menu. "Aren't you going to look at your menu?"

Vegeta would never admit it to the likes of her, but he was unable to read Western Standard. He could easily read and write Eastern Standard and even a few other minor Earth languages that utilized the same set of written characters, but hadn't bothered with learning the way Earthlings wrote what they referred to as 'Western' Standard since it was much, much more complex. Why they didn't write their dialect of the universal Standard language the way most other alien races who spoke forms of it did was beyond him, but he didn't really care and just shrugged the thought off mentally. It didn't matter to him; he didn't intend to stay on this miserable mud ball any longer than necessary, and while he was here he would simply order someone else to do whatever it was he needed for him. "No. You told me that the food here was satisfactory. You may instruct the servants to bring me something acceptable."

Bulma pursed her lips. "Oh, may I Your Highness, really? Look, lighten up, okay? You don't need to be so tense all of the time. Sure I'll order for you. You only had to ask is all." She closed her menu and put it on top of his.

He was about to tell her she should mind her place and that she'd been overstepping her boundaries all morning when a waitress bustled over. "Hello there, Bulma," she exclaimed. "It's been a while."

"Hi Rita," Bulma greeted the waitress. "How've you been?"

"Oh, good, good. My kids keep me busy." She bit the cap of her pen to pull it off. "Who's your friend?" she asked with emphasis on the word 'friend' that suggested otherwise. She gave the dark eyed, scowling man in the booth a once over and decided that given the body, she might be able to deal with the scowl.

~Here we go again.~ "This is Vegeta. He's cranky today, so don't mind him."

Vegeta growled but didn't reply. He would make the woman pay for mocking him in front of other humans. For now, he would hold his tongue long enough for the woman to get some food for him. He wanted his meat!

"I'll bet a big strapping guy like you must be hungry, aren't you?" Rita commented. "And I suppose Bulma here dragged you all over creation to every single store in the city, didn't she?"

"Yes, to both questions," Vegeta responded immediately. "She purchased enough garments to clothe a small nation," he grumbled.

Rita laughed, cutting off whatever objection Bulma was about to make. "I don't doubt it. I don't think I've ever seen her wear the same thing twice," she teased.

"I have too!" Bulma contradicted her.

Rita chuckled good-naturedly. "Of course you have. I know I've seen those shoes before." She laughed again. "Okay, all right. What would you like to start off with to drink?"

"I'll have a Diet Coke," Bulma decided. She looked at Vegeta speculatively. "For you? I don't know. A beer, maybe?"

Vegeta shrugged, again having no idea what 'beer' was. "Whatever."

"I guess whatever you have on tap is fine," Bulma decided. "Oh, and a couple glasses of water, too."

"Sure thing. How about an appetizer?" Rita asked.

"Uhm... give us one of those fried onion flowers and some hot buffalo wings."

"Okay. Do you know what you want for lunch or should I put in your appetizers and come back?"

Bulma debated looking at her menu one last time but decided against it when she saw Vegeta's 'My Meat Had Damn Well Better Be Coming Soon Woman' expression. "I'll have the six ounce filet done medium and garlic mashed potatoes," she decided. "Salad with fat free Italian on the side."

"Okay. And what will you have, Vegeta?" Rita asked, looking over to him.

"The woman will order my meal," Vegeta informed her.

Rita took this all in stride. "What will Vegeta have, Woman?"

Bulma gave the grinning waitress a look that suggested that she had best not adopt 'Woman' as a new nickname for her. "Vegeta'll have the 'Bellyache Steak', rare with sautéed mushrooms, steak fries and corn on the cob." She folded her hands on the table and looked to Rita expectantly.

"You are hungry today, if you can finish all of that. You'd be one of the few," Rita informed her curious patron. "I'll bring your drinks out and put in your appetizers." She sauntered off toward the kitchen. "I've got a bellyache!" she yelled, earning herself a chorus of cheers from other patrons and staff alike.

Vegeta frowned. "What the hell did you order for me, Woman?" he demanded.

"The same thing Goku always got when he came here with me, what's affectionately referred to as the 'Bellyache Steak'. It's this monster seventy-two ounce steak," Bulma explained, indicating the approximate size with her hands, "that comes with a potato and a vegetable. If you can eat it all, it's free. Not many people do, or if they do manage to, they end up getting sick. Of course, it doesn't count as finishing if it all comes back up."

Vegeta contemplated this. "I presume Kakarrot always consumed the entire meal?"

"Oh, yeah." Bulma waved off any thought to the contrary. "He usually even polished off a second one without a problem, plus dessert." She sounded sad. "Oh, Goku. I miss you," she whispered.

"About my meal?" Vegeta prompted, snapping her out of her sad thoughts.

~Does he even care that Goku is dead, I wonder?~ "Oh, right. They have a couple of things on the menu here that if you finish them successfully, you don't have to pay. The steak is one of them, and whenever anyone orders one the waiter or waitress will yell 'I've got a bellyache!' to get people all excited, because only a handful of people have ever eaten the whole dinner, and it's fun to watch someone new try." She grinned. "You're not going to embarrass me by not finishing, are you?"

Vegeta scowled. "Hmph! Of course I will finish the steak," he told her. "Kakarrot always ate two, you say?"

Bulma nodded. "He'd get a big sleepy grin on his face and rub his tummy when he was done, and say, "Oh boy, that sure hit the spot. It's almost as good as Chi-Chi's cooking," or something like that," she recalled.

Vegeta contemplated this. "Then I will eat three of these so-called 'Bellyache Steaks'," he decided.

Bulma's eyebrow rose sharply. "Vegeta, you haven't even seen the steak yet. How do you know you'll want to eat three of them?"

"I am the Prince of All Saiyans, Woman," Vegeta reminded her haughtily. "Whatever that clown Kakarrot does I must surpass as his prince and his better."

Bulma frowned. "Vegeta... no offense, but I don't understand what all of the competition is for. Why do you have to be better than Goku all of the time? The man is dead, for Kami's sake-"

"No, you do not understand, Woman. I cannot be outdone by a third-class warrior. On planet Vegeta I would have been a model for my people, someone they were to look to for guidance in all aspects, as an example of what a true, honorable Saiyan warrior really is. Having someone else accomplish bigger and better feats than I myself had done would have been humiliating and I would have lost the respect of my people and the honor due to me as their prince. I might have even been challenged as the rightful heir to the Saiyan throne." He set his jaw. "It has always been so, Woman. But now, Kakarrot has stolen my birthright not just once but twice, and as you stated he is dead, so I am unable to exact any type of restitution from him or regain my honor."

"Vegeta... I had no idea," Bulma whispered. "I just thought you were upset because of Goku's transformation to Super Saiyan. I didn't know it had anything to do with your honor. I'm sorry I misjudged you."

Vegeta glowered at her. How could she be so ignorant? "I was foretold to be the Legendary, the first Super Saiyan in a millennium. So saying, Kakarrot stole my birthright from me when he became a Super Saiyan, and he literally did it again when he killed Frieza, the murderer of my father and my entire race." He tightened his arms across his chest and looked away from her. "So yes, you could rightly say that I am just a tiny bit bitter about Kakarrot, since he didn't even care about his heritage or what his actions meant for me."

"I'm sorry, Vegeta. Truly. I wish that there was something I could do for you," Bulma told him sincerely.

His piercing black eyes bored into hers. "Don't deter me from reaching my goals. That's what you can do. I will become a Super Saiyan, this I swear to you."

Bulma suddenly brightened. "I know! The ship! I could-"

"I've got a Diet, a beer and two glasses of water for you kids," Rita's voice interrupted. "Your appetizers should be right up."

"Thanks, Rita." Bulma took a sip of her Coke and nudged the beer a little closer to her lunch companion. "Try it."

Vegeta sniffed the beer and frowned. "It doesn't smell very good," he told her.

Bulma smiled. "Beer is an acquired taste, I'll admit. Either you like it or you hate it. Give it a try, and if you don't like it, I'll get you something else," she encouraged.

He picked up the mug and took a gulp of the beer, but said nothing.

"Well?"

He shrugged. "Eh, you can drink it," he decided, taking another drink from the mug.

Bulma giggled. "I guess you mean 'you' in the general sense, since you haven't quit drinking it," she noted.

He grunted in affirmation. "I find it acceptable, I suppose." He shifted in his seat, scanning the restaurant impatiently.

"It'll be out soon, Vegeta. No reason to worry about it." Bulma giggled. ~Kami, he's so cute...~

"What were you saying about a ship?" Vegeta queried, rubbing his finger over the condensation on his glass.

"Oh, right! Daddy fixed up a spaceship like the one he showed you for Goku to use while he was in space. He could adjust the level of gravity inside the ship, so when he trained in it he got a lot harder of a workout than if he trained under normal circumstances. I could see if Daddy will let you use one of his ships to train with, if you think that would help," Bulma suggested.

Vegeta's interest was evident. "Could this ship withstand ki blasts?"

"Sure, I don't see why not, if I made a few structural and electrical modifications."

"Make it so," Vegeta agreed immediately. "I must become a Super Saiyan without delay."

Bulma smiled, pleased by his positive response. "I'm sure it won't be a problem, but let me talk to Daddy and I'll let you know."

"Good." Vegeta's chin lifted slightly.

"Hmmm..."

"What?" Bulma was inspecting him thoughtfully.

"Your armor is a wreck, and I'm sure you don't want to destroy all of your new clothes," she mused. "If you let me take a look at your armor, maybe I could duplicate it. I'm sure it'll withstand a lot more abuse than regular clothes would."

Vegeta thought about it. ~Can she truly do all of this?~ "Fine, then."

"An onion flower and hot buffalo wings?" a girl's perky voice inquired.

Bulma nodded. "Yes, thank you." She sat back in her seat as one of the servers set their appetizers down in front of them.

"Your meal will be out shortly," the girl informed them.

Vegeta leaned forward and looked at the onion flower. He sniffed. His nose wrinkled. "What is this thing?"

Bulma broke a section of the onion off and dipped it into the sauce provided. "It's a deep fried onion. Either you'll like it or hate it. I love it." She ate the piece of onion. "Mmm, good…"

Vegeta decided to try the offensive smelling finger food and gingerly broke off a piece, dipping it in the sauce as Bulma had done and eating it.

His eyebrow rose in surprise. It was good.

"I take it you like the onion," Bulma commented, watching him with amusement as he chowed down on it.

He merely grunted in response and continued eating. His eyes watched her every move as she dipped one of the wings into some ranch and ate the meat off of it, depositing the bone back onto the plate.

"Ooh, those are hot. If they burn too much, you can eat some of the celery." She smiled when he started in on the wings as well, wings in one hand and beer in the other. He sat back when he finished.

"Good?"

"The taste is acceptable," Vegeta agreed, "although this type of cuisine is not very clean."

"Here, use one of these." Bulma tore open a little packet and pulled out a small wet cloth. "They expect you to get messy when you eat this kind of stuff."

He took it and wiped his hands with it, grumbling about unsanitary eating conditions as he did so.

Bulma smiled fondly at him. "Hey, loosen up a little. Everyone here is casual. No one expects you to act like royalty here." She leaned in toward him. "It's okay to lick your fingers here, and even to throw your peanut shells on the floor."

Vegeta's eyebrow rose. "What kind of establishment is this?"

"Casual family dining," Bulma repeated. "Definitely not a suit and tie environment. Maybe that's why I like it here. It's comfortable and I don't have to worry about acting too professionally."

"Hmph." Vegeta didn't know what to think about that. Despite all of the unsatisfactory conditions he'd been forced to endure in the course of his young life, he'd always endeavored to maintain a dignified appearance and behavior.

"Wow, you two were hungry," Rita commented as she approached. "Here's your salad, Bulma, and another beer for you, Vegeta." She set the items down in front of them.

"Thanks, Rita." Bulma drizzled her dressing onto her salad.

"No problem! Your food should be right up."

***

A growing number of patrons were watching as Vegeta dipped the last bite of his steak into the puddle of steak sauce on his plate and very casually ate it.

"Oh my Kami, he finished the entire thing," one of them whispered in stunned admiration.

Vegeta set his knife and fork down, having heard her comment. "Of course, Woman. This meal was hardly a challenge." He waved to Rita. "You, servant woman! I require another one of these bellyaches."

"Vegeta, she's not a servant," Bulma objected, embarrassed. "She's paid to work here."

"Whatever," Vegeta grumbled. "I want my food."

Rita bustled over. "What can I get you- Kami, he finished it, people!" she exclaimed. Cheers came from around the restaurant. "How do you feel? Have you got a bellyache?" She giggled.

Vegeta shrugged. "Moderately satisfied," he decided. "The steak was prepared acceptably. I require another serving."

He smirked when Rita's eyes widened and several shocked gasps were heard from other patrons. Interest was rapidly piqued throughout the restaurant when the news spread that the wild-haired man in the corner booth wearing a Titans t-shirt was ordering his second 'Bellyache Steak' and didn't look any worse for wear after having finished the first one.

"Okay," she said, flipping her order pad open. "You liked the steak rare, right?"

Vegeta grunted in agreement. "The mushrooms were also acceptable."

"Would you like onions or cheese as well?" Rita suggested. "Or will you stick with steak sauce?"

Vegeta decided that perhaps he didn't mind ordering for himself after all. "Yes, I will try the onions and cheese with my mushrooms."

"All right. What kind of potato?"

"Give me what the woman had."

Rita glanced over to Bulma. "Garlic mashed, wasn't it?"

Bulma nodded. "Yep." ~This is going to be fun!~

"And your vegetable?"

"You could try a salad, Vegeta," Bulma suggested. "Mine was good."

"That will do. Now off with you, Woman." Rita felt her knees wobble a little when Vegeta gave her a naughty little smirk. "Bring me another beer as well."

***

"Double or nothing says he doesn't finish it."

"You're on, pal. Didn't you see the way he wolfed down the second one?"

"I've got fifty zeni that says not only does he finish the third steak, but he orders dessert, too."

"Ugh, that's just sick..."

Vegeta couldn't help but find himself amused by the behavior of the humans watching him. They were fascinated that he'd gotten a third steak and were even betting on whether or not he could truly eat everything that he ordered.

They would learn soon enough to never underestimate a Saiyan when it came to food, especially the Prince of All Saiyans himself.

He earned another astonished gasp when he mopped up the last bit of gravy from his plate with a piece of a roll and popped it in his mouth, then sat back in the booth contentedly.

Bulma's eyebrow rose. "Well?"

Vegeta looked at her pointedly and let out a not very princely belch in response.

She giggled, as did many of the other patrons who were observing. "I take it you're full now?"

Vegeta chewed on a toothpick and shrugged. He was actually a little surprised by his own casual behavior. Why he was acting in this way he didn't know. Perhaps it was the response he was earning from his admirers, or it could be the fact that he was currently most of the way through his second pitcher of beer. Either way, he hadn't felt this at ease in quite a long time, especially so since he hadn't liked the looks of the establishment when they had first walked in. "I am comfortably fed, Woman. You chose well."

"I actually got a compliment!" Bulma preened. "I guess I'll have to bring you here more often. Next time you can try dessert, too."

"Dessert?"

"You know, like chocolate cake, key lime pie, ice cream..."

Vegeta studied her with interest. If she was already intent on bringing him back here again for this 'dessert', then it must be good. "I don't know what any of those things are, Woman." He looked over at Rita, who was collecting his third set of dishes. "Kindly bring me some of this dessert, Woman."

Rita's eyes widened. "A-after three steaks with all the trimmings you want dessert too?"

"Sure, sure. Why not?" He was full but not uncomfortably so. He was a Saiyan. What was one more plate to him? "Unless you'd rather bring me another steak." He laughed openly at her expression.

"What should I bring you?" Rita asked incredulously.

"Just bring one of everything and two forks and spoons," Bulma suggested with a wink.

Soon enough several servers arrived with trays laden down with sugary confections of all kinds and set them before him. "Here you go, sir. Enjoy!" one of the servers told him. "Let one of us know if you need anything else."

When they had left Vegeta inspected one of the desserts as he had the onion. "What is this?"

"Looks like the sweet potato pie."

"This?"

"Black Forest cherry torte."

"This?"

"Rice pudding, a blondie, strawberry shortcake, pecan pie, apple pie, blueberry pie, chocolate cake, a banana split..." Bulma continued to name off each item on the table. "You like sweets, don't you?" She figured if his tastes were anything like Goku's, it would be difficult keeping dessert in the house, especially ice cream or pie.

Vegeta shrugged. "Frieza fed us and that was enough."

Bulma felt a surge of pity rush through her. Even as royalty, he'd had nothing, experienced nothing other than pain and hatred. "Everything here is delicious, trust me. Try some," she coaxed. She reached over with her fork and cut the tip off a piece of strawberry-rhubarb pie. "Mmmm, that's so good."

Vegeta took a bite of the pie à la mode, and his eyebrows rose. He began to chew faster and took another bite.

Bulma giggled and rested her elbow on the table, propping her chin in her hand. She watched with fondness as the formerly surly Saiyan prince happily devoured dessert after dessert, sampling a few of them herself before passing the plate on. It warmed her heart to see him so pleased.

Bulma giggled again when Vegeta finally rested his fork down against the last plate and wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Good?"

"Acceptable, yes," he told her, unwilling to say they were good.

"You sure acted like you were enjoying them," Bulma observed. "You especially seemed to like the ice cream."

~Perhaps if the woman knows I liked it, she will purchase some more of it,~ Vegeta reasoned slyly. "I liked the ice cream, yes," he agreed. "The first pie you gave me was also quite palatable."

"You liked the strawberry-rhubarb pie, huh? I thought so." ~He's actually opening up to me and enjoying himself! This is great!~ "Since you liked the ice cream so much, the next time we're here I can get you the 'Ice Cream Avalanche'. It's another one of those things you can order that if you finish it, it's free."

Vegeta's eyebrow rose, and a smirk slowly played at his lips.

"You cannot be serious," Bulma exclaimed in disbelief. "Do you know how much you just ate?"

Vegeta frowned. "What a foolish question, Woman. Of course I know how much I ate. I ate it, didn't I?"

"Well, yes but-"

"So bring me one of these avalanche confections," he demanded stubbornly.

"Okay..." She leaned forward. "Are you trying to show off for these people or something?"

"Do not question my motives, Woman!" Vegeta snapped. "Just give me the damned ice cream!"

~He really does like it that much.~ "I'm sorry, Vegeta. I wasn't trying to second guess you. I just thought you were joking around, that's all."

"I hardly seem the type to joke around, do I?" Vegeta retorted.

"No... But do try to relax and enjoy yourself," Bulma said softly. She took one of his hands in her own, caressing it with one thumb. "I think you're very handsome when you smile, you know."

"Hmph." He retrieved his hand, feeling uneasy by the affection she was so openly showing him.

~It's okay, Bulma. Just give him time and don't scare him off.~ She flagged down Rita, who was passing by.

"Are you kids finally ready for the bill?" she joked.

"Uhm, no. Vegeta wants to try one of the 'Ice Cream Avalanches'," Bulma informed her.

Rita was unable to hide her astonishment. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were related to Goku Son somehow, but even he never ate as much as you did," she said with a shake of her head. "But you seem so different from him as far as personality goes."

"No, there's no relation," Bulma stated before Vegeta could say anything derogatory about her friend. "Same, uhm, nationality though." Goku hadn't really broadcasted the fact that he wasn't human, so she didn't want to say different 'race' or 'species'. She suddenly wondered if she should have said nothing at all.

Rita saved her from her worries. "Oh. That makes sense." She smiled broadly. "I'll make you one up right away. I'd really love to see you eat it all. What kind of toppings would you like on that?"

"Toppings?"

"You know, like the banana split had. Chocolate, caramel, pineapple, nuts, whipped cream..." Bulma supplied.

"All of them," Vegeta determined. "And cherries, too."

Rita chuckled. "I definitely won't forget. I'll give you a bunch of them." She winked at him and headed toward the kitchen. "There's an avalanche on the way!"

People began to cheer just as they had when she'd announced his steak, and Vegeta shook his head. "You humans are so odd," he commented.

***

"I still can't believe you ate all of that," Bulma told him with a giggle as she popped her capsule car. "It's a good thing for the owner that I insisted on paying him for your lunch." She climbed inside and bucked herself in as he sat down. "What was your favorite thing?"

"The ice cream," Vegeta responded immediately. He sat down in the passenger seat and let out a rather satisfied sigh.

"That's what I figured. Any particular flavors? I'll make sure Mom buys some when she goes shopping," Bulma offered.

Just as he suspected. Although she claimed that he, despite being a prince, was no better than anyone else, for some reason she was so ready to please him that if he showed even the slightest interest in something, she would give it to him. "What did you call it... cookies and cream," Vegeta decided. "And the triple chocolate-"

"-fudge brownie," Bulma finished along with him. "Oh my Kami, that stuff is sinfully good. I come here just to buy that sometimes," she admitted a little sheepishly.

He gave her an odd look. "You would come here just for that ice cream?"

"Yeah. It's just so good." Bulma merged into traffic. "Thanks for not making a hassle out of the shopping part of this morning. I could tell you didn't really want to go."

"Whatever. Just don't expect this to become a regular occurrence, Woman."

"I won't," she promised. They drove in silence for a little while until her cell phone rang.

"What the hell is that?" Vegeta demanded. As soon as she unclipped it from her belt, he recognized it as one of those incredibly annoying electronic devices that he'd seen people using at the mall.

"It's just my cell phone. Oh, that's Mom." Bulma flipped her phone open. "Hey Mom. What's up? Uh-huh, that sounds good." She lowered the phone a little. "Vegeta, how does turkey dinner sound to you?"

He shrugged. "Whatever."

"That's fine, Mom. Just not too soon, because we just finished with lunch." Bulma listened for a moment, then frowned. "I don't know. I've already dragged Vegeta to enough places today and I think he's had enough- Mom..." She looked over to Vegeta and rolled her eyes dramatically. "Fine, sure. Okay. Bye." She flipped the phone shut and tossed it on the seat next to her with a sigh. "We've been commandeered into stopping by the grocery store. I told Mom you'd probably had enough shopping but she insisted that you'd be fine. Sorry," she told him apologetically.

"Grocery store?"

"Yeah. All kinds of food all in one building." She paused when she saw Vegeta's eyebrow rise. "We can buy whatever you want, if you have something particular in mind."

"I want ice cream," he responded immediately. "Purchase some of the ice cream for me, and some meat."

Bulma couldn't help but smile. "I can do that," she agreed, relieved that he wasn't objecting to being hauled along to still another store. "They do have decent meat at the grocery store, but if you want really good meats, you should go to a reputable butcher. It's up to you."

He thought about it. He was ready to get back to the woman's home- and hopefully get her into her bed- but the thought of as much good, fresh meat as he wanted won out. There would be opportunity to get the woman into bed after her mother prepared his dinner. "I suppose we might stop by this butcher's shop as well," he conceded. "As long as it doesn't take all day," he added grumpily, noticing the woman's pleased look.

"It won't. I promise I'll make it as quick as possible," she assured him.

"Fine, Woman. Proceed." Vegeta sat back in his seat.