Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Whatever It Takes ❯ Chapter 15

AN: Short and sweet this time. Thanks go to Infinite Pen for your reviews and for encouraging me to continue with this when the going got rough, and to my husband, who diligently offers his comments on each chapter before I post it.

Oh, one more quick note before I move on: yes, I hate hate hate hate hate spiders. :p

Enjoy!


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 Fifteen

"He didn't eat any of it?"

"No, he hasn't touched anything I've brought him. Not even turkey dinner, and he loves my turkey dinner."

"Maybe Anya could-"

"Don't even suggest that. Look how things turned out when I made him dance with me. I'm not going there again."

"But he looks so tired and sad. He must be so hungry. I hate seeing him like this, the poor dear."

"Don't cry, Honey. We'll think of something."

Vegeta could hear the hushed conversation down the hallway even through his closed door. He knew they were worried about him, but it just wasn't enough to snap him out of his self-imposed punishment.

They were worried because not only had he holed himself up in his room for the past three days, refusing to eat, but he hardly slept. The only thing he did was sit and stare at the wall with blank, lifeless eyes. None of them had been able to get a response out of him.

Of course, it could simply be that the right person hadn't tried.

The four ki left the hallway, and Vegeta knew that they were heading for the stairs and probably the kitchen, no doubt to scrounge up some delicious little morsel to tempt him with. He sighed, not wanting to deal with another confrontation.

He got up from his chair and went to the large balcony doors. Opening the latch, he went outside and flew to the back yard where the GR stood, cold and quiet. He went inside for the first time since returning to Earth and locked himself in. "Computer, activate gravity at 750 Gs," he commanded. It was the highest gravity level the GR was currently capable of. Good. Pain was your friend when you otherwise felt nothing at all.

***

Geta looked up from the plate of food he was fixing. "Father left his room," he reported. He peered outside. "He's headed for the GR."

Mrs. Briefs frowned worriedly. "You don't think he'd do anything else harmful to himself, do you?"

Geta drew in a deep sigh. "I don't know. Part of me says that we should be glad he's not staring at the wall anymore, but the rest of me has the same worries that you do, Gram. After all, he hasn't even wanted to train before now."

"And, he nearly got himself killed when he sparred with Goku," Anya pointed out.

Dr. Briefs frowned. "We can't tell him what to do. We can only keep an eye on him and hope for the best."

***

"Did Pops ever come back in last night?" Anya asked as she situated her son into his high chair.

Dr. Briefs shook his head. "The security was never disarmed, so he didn't let himself in."

"What if he used one of Bulma's ki battery things?" Mrs. Briefs suggested. "They're all over the house."

Geta looked up from his eggs and sighed in exasperation. "Why didn't I think of that?" he growled irritably. They watched him expectantly as he scanned for his father's ki. "I do believe he's in the medical lab."

"I'll go check," Dr. Briefs spoke up. "The rest of you continue with your breakfast."

"But-" Mrs. Briefs started to object, but her husband laid a hand on her arm.

"Please trust me, Bunny," he told her quietly but firmly. "I promise that I'll call you if I need your help."

Mrs. Briefs wrung her apron in her hands. "All right, Dear," she finally relented.

***

"Daddy? Are you in here?" Bulma asked as she entered the medical lab.

"Yes, I'm in the back," Dr. Briefs called out.

"Mom said you might... What happened here?" she exclaimed.

Her father was currently programming a lab bot to clean up a large trail of blood on the floor that stretched from a nearby beacon to the regeneration tanks. "Well, Pumpkin, it appears that Vegeta decided to beat the hell out of himself in the GR," he told her bluntly. "I've already swapped out the regeneration fluid in the tank, because it was purple from all the blood."

"Purple?" Bulma repeated incredulously. The regeneration tank should have been more than capable of filtering out any blood from the fluid. If the fluid was purple, there had to be far more blood in it than the tank could keep up with.

"Yes, purple." Dr. Briefs crossed his arms. "It appears that he had just enough energy to teleport inside and drag himself to the tank. I know you're upset, Bulma, and justifiably so, but this ends now. He hasn't eaten, slept or done anything other than inflict pain upon himself for the past three days. You need to talk to the man and stop this insanity. That's all he wants."

Bulma blinked back tears. Vegeta had kissed her so passionately, so- dare she say it?- lovingly in the gardens. The whole situation was confusing the hell out of her. "I... I don't hate Vegeta, Daddy. I didn't want it to come to this."

"Then you need to let him know, don't you think?" Dr. Briefs said softly.

Bulma sniffled and nodded. "You're right, Daddy. I'll talk to him." She turned away from the tank holding her bruised and beaten former lover and left the medical lab before her emotions could get the better over her.

***

"Pops, are you sure you don't want even a little bit? It's your favorite," Anya coaxed, pushing the heavily chocolate laden ice cream a little closer.

Vegeta continued to stare at the bedroom wall.

She sighed and backed away. He looked so thin and sickly. What else could she do? They'd all tried everything they'd come up with.

"Ganpa?" a little voice asked.

Anya's eyebrows rose as her son toddled into the room, a cookie in his hand. She'd almost scooped him up and told him to let his grandfather be when it occurred to her that since Vegeta was fond of her son, perhaps the little boy might be able to get through to him. Instead, she stepped back further to silently observe.

"Ganpa?" the child repeated, looking up at Vegeta. He reached up and placed a chubby warm hand on one of his grandfather's knees.

Anya felt her spirits rising, for there it was- a tiny flicker of a response.

"Ganpa..." The child's shoulders drooped and his large blue eyes filled with tears. Didn't his beloved Grandpa love him anymore?

Vegeta looked down at his grandson. A sharp pain lanced through his heart at the boy's tearful blue eyes, his grandmother's eyes. He leaned down to pick him up and stood him on his lap, holding him close.

The little boy threw his arms around Vegeta's neck and rested his head on one big shoulder. "No boo-hoo, Ganpa. Wuv you."

Vegeta let out a ragged sigh and held the boy closer. Both this child and his son had come to mean the world to him, and he couldn't ignore the unhesitating love his grandson was offering.

After a moment Vegeta wriggled around to sit on his grandfather's lap. "Wanna cookie?" he offered, holding up the treat in his hand.

Vegeta knew very well why his grandson had been given the cookie. "You got that because you were a good boy, didn't you?" he asked softly.

The child nodded. "Uh-huh. Ganpa want?"

"But, that's your cookie. You should eat it yourself," Vegeta pointed out.

"No, Veeta wanna give Ganpa cookie," the boy insisted, holding the cookie closer to Vegeta's mouth.

Vegeta couldn't hold in a smile. "You are a good boy," he praised. "Tell you what. I'll have a little piece, and you eat the rest."

"Okay, Ganpa."

Vegeta took a little bite from the cookie and was about to thank the boy when his attention was abruptly diverted elsewhere. Presently a scream was heard.

It had come from Bulma's room.

Vegeta set his grandson down on the bed and rushed to Bulma's room. The door was locked so he broke it down and went inside. He could hear water running in the bathroom and headed that way. Without thinking, he whipped the shower door open.

"Kill it!" Bulma screamed, clutching her shower pouf in a death grip as she shrunk back away from a rather large, hairy spider that had somehow made its way into the shower. It moved, and she jumped and let out a little shriek, backing away into the farthest corner of the shower. "Dear Kami, kill it!"

Vegeta grabbed a piece of toilet paper and reached in to kill the offending beast. He dropped the paper into the trash.

"Is it dead?" Bulma whimpered.

"Completely squished," Vegeta agreed. It was then that he realized that his eyes were travelling along her wet, soapy body and quickly turned his face away, a blush spreading across his cheeks. She was no longer his, and the sight of her beautiful naked body was more than he could bear. "Sorry," he managed before rushing from her room.

Bulma sighed and leaned back against the cold shower wall. How many times had he joined her here? He'd liked to come in and pull her close before-

She shook her head to clear it. Her father was right. She needed to talk to Vegeta sooner than later.

***

Vegeta propped the door back on its hinges as best as he could. That had been awkward to say the least.

"Pops? What's going on?" Anya asked hesitantly.

The blush returned to his cheeks. "There was a spider in her shower," he explained.

"Gamma okay, Ganpa?" Vegeta asked, a concerned frown on his plump little face.

His grandfather nodded. "Yes, Grandma's fine," he assured the boy. "She was just scared by a spider, that's all."

The boy wrinkled his nose. "Icky!" He didn't like spiders either.

Anya chuckled at her son. "Did you kill it for her, Pops?" she asked. Her eyebrows rose when he went bright red.

"Uhm, yes," Vegeta muttered in response.

"I see." It wasn't difficult to guess why he was embarrassed.

"So did I," he mumbled, quickly heading back to his room.

***

"He saw her in the shower."

"Oh, my..."

"Who knows? Maybe something good will come of this. Maybe it'll break his funk. Mother can't keep avoiding him, not after this- shh!" Geta placed a finger over his lips.

Momentarily Bulma entered the kitchen. She pursed her lips at the sudden halt in conversation. "I know what you were talking about," she said accusingly, a slight blush flitting across her cheeks. "Yes, I'm going to talk to him." She grabbed two Cokes from the refrigerator and left the kitchen.

"I suppose you were right, Geta," Mrs. Briefs mused. "At least they're talking now."

Geta nodded. "Let's just hope for the best and see what happens."

***

Bulma took in a deep breath before knocking on the door. She knew she needed to do this, but her stomach was a bundle of nerves.

The door opened and Vegeta stood there just looking at her. "Hey."

"Hey." Bulma held up one of the cans. "Coke?"

"Thank you." Vegeta accepted her offering and opened the door further, stepping aside to indicate that she was welcome to enter. "Listen, Bulma," he began as he shut the door behind her, "I didn't intend to, ah, peep on you in the shower," he mumbled, the accursed blush returning to his cheeks. "I apologize for embarrassing you." He sat down on the end of the bed heavily.

Bulma felt her own cheeks go a little pink. "I, uhm..." How could she just say 'No, it's all right' when things between them were anything but all right? "Thanks for getting rid of the spider," she said instead, the can of Coke in her hand suddenly becoming quite interesting.

"You're welcome," he responded softly. "Any time you have a bug, just let me know."

She looked up at him then. Technically spiders weren't bugs, but this wasn't the time to bring that up. "Thanks."

He nodded and opened his Coke, taking a long gulp of it.

The awkward silence in the room became deafening as neither of them spoke.

"I just wanted-"

"I came here to-"

Both of them stopped at the same time. "Go ahead," Vegeta prompted.

"No, you go ahead," Bulma disagreed. This might be easier if she finally let him say his piece.

"Would you like to sit down?" he offered, rising from the bed.

"Sure." Bulma sat at one edge of the bed, nodding beside her. "What were you going to say?"

He sat back down beside her and shifted a little uncomfortably. All he wanted to do was curl his arm around her and kiss her until she was bright-eyed and breathless before guiding her down onto the mattress. "I just wanted to say that I didn't want to hurt you the day I left," he began quietly. "I've never been more sorry about anything I've done, ever, and I've done plenty to be sorry about." Vegeta took a turn finding his Coke can to be of interest as he looked down at his hands, unable to face her.

Bulma felt her heart twist in her chest. He was probably completely unaware of the pleading, downtrodden expression he'd had on his face. "Vegeta, please look at me," she requested. She placed a hand on his arm when he closed his eyes and let out a small sigh. "Please."

He turned his head to look at her with pained eyes. It was obvious that he was struggling to control his emotions, but she needed to say what she came to say. "You hurt me deeply when you left again Vegeta, especially by the things you said," she told him softly. "If you didn't want to hurt me, why did you do it?"

He swallowed and bit his lip. Gods, this was all he had wanted, to finally talk to her, and he was an inch short of breaking down. But he couldn't, he just couldn't, not in front of her. He drew in a deep breath. "Bulma, I-"

Whatever Vegeta was about to say was cut off when Bulma's cell phone rang. She looked down at it and sighed. "I'm sorry, but I have to take this call." She stood up, then pressed a button and placed the phone to her ear. "Hi, could you hold on just one second, please?" She covered the phone with her hand. "I really want to hear what you have to say, Vegeta. How about I take this call and we have some dinner, then we'll talk, okay? Mom's making fried chicken. I know you like that." It was then that she realized how incredibly tired and gaunt he looked when he looked up at her and nodded.

"All right." What else could he say? It wasn't as if he was in any position to demand her attention. Even though he'd just been dismissed in favor of that wretched portable telephone, it was enough that she'd agreed to talk to him. He watched her leave the room and flopped down backward onto his bed, rubbing his hands over his face. He would not break down. He would not break down...

***

Mrs. Briefs knocked lightly on Vegeta's door. "Vegeta? May I come in, Dear?"

"Come in."

Mrs. Briefs opened the door and went inside. Vegeta was lying on the bed, his legs dangling over the end and his hands over his face. She held in a sigh and shut the door behind her. "Are you all right, Dear?"

Vegeta shrugged, his hands still over his face. "As good as can be expected, I suppose."

At least he wasn't acting catatonic any more. "Did she talk to you?"

Vegeta let one hand drop and the other one rested over his forehead as he eyed the blond-haired woman standing beside the bed. "I was about to explain to her when that Kami damned portable telephone rang," he complained. "Evidently whoever was calling her had something more important to say than I do."

Mrs. Briefs frowned sympathetically. "Please don't feel that way. Bulma's been having problems with her..." She paused, bothered by what she was trying to say. "...relationship lately, and it was probably him who called. She's been waiting for him to call her ever since he stormed off the other day."

"Hmph." Vegeta got up, realizing he was being quite rude to his visitor. "As I surmised, a much more important individual desired her attention."

Mrs. Briefs snorted derisively, surprising him. "Whatever," she retorted. "I hardly find his attentions toward Bulma to be important."

Vegeta slowly smiled, then laughed aloud. "You're all right, Bunny."

She giggled. "You're just saying that because I made fried chicken for dinner, aren't you?"

"Not at all." Vegeta kissed her on the cheek, making her giggle again. "But it does sound good, thank you."

Mrs. Briefs beamed at him. "I'm so happy that you're feeling a little better, Dear." Her smile faded somewhat. "But..."

"I know. He's here." Vegeta sank back down onto the edge of the bed. "I can practically smell his stench all the way up here."

She bit her lip. "Bulma said you would come eat dinner with us, but I know it wouldn't be the most comfortable of situations for you. I'd never force you to come."

Vegeta sighed. He had agreed to Bulma's suggestion. How could he expect her to give him another chance if he blew her off this time? "How much longer until dinner is ready?"

Mrs. Briefs looked hopeful. "It won't take long to finish. Most of the chicken is fried already, and Anya is watching what's cooking now. Five minutes, maybe?"

"All right. I'll be down in five minutes," Vegeta promised.

Mrs. Briefs gave him a little smile and left without another word. Dinner would be awkward, that much was certain, but at least he'd be there.

***

"Let's eat, everyone!" Mrs. Briefs called out as she set down the coleslaw. Dinner was laid out on the large table in the dining room off of the kitchen. They usually ate in the kitchen, but when everyone was home and guests came, meals were moved to the dining room.

Bulma sat down. "Mom, it smells delicious. Sit here, Hiroshi," she instructed, gesturing to the chair beside her own.

"Thank you, Dear." Mrs. Briefs took her place beside her husband as Anya and Geta situated their son and took their seats. There was only one open seat, and she hoped it truly would be taken tonight.

"Dinner smells wonderful, Bunny," Vegeta echoed Bulma's earlier sentiments as he entered the dining room a couple minutes later.

"I'm so glad. I made it especially for you, Vegeta," Mrs. Briefs told him, smiling as he took his seat.

Vegeta returned the smile. "I'm sure I'll enjoy it."

Hiroshi snorted. "Obviously enough that you couldn't even be bothered to show up on time like the rest of us," he scoffed.

"Hiroshi, please," Bulma said weakly. She'd been surprised and distracted by Vegeta's entry; not only had she thought he wouldn't come because of Hiroshi's presence, but he had freshly showered and shaved, and was wearing a sweater and khakis she liked but he'd never worn. He had also put on a cologne she'd bought for him that he'd never bothered to use.

He both looked and smelled fantastic.

"Pass the potato salad, please?" Anya requested, trying to divert the topic of conversation elsewhere.

"Here you go, Anya. So, Bulma," Dr. Briefs spoke up as he passed the requested dish, "have you finished calibrating one of your ki beacons to work in the GR yet?"

Bulma nodded, grateful for the change in the topic of conversation. "It needs some fine tuning, but I think it should hold up to higher gravity levels just fine."

"How high did you last have the gravity, Vegeta?" Dr. Briefs continued. "It needs to withstand whatever you'd like to train at."

"750 Gs," Vegeta responded, placing several chicken legs on his plate.

"Is that what you like to train at?"

Vegeta looked across the table. "It is what I am accustomed to, yes," he said politely. He would be civil to this man, for Bulma's sake.

Hiroshi sneered at him. "That's not what I heard," he contradicted. "I heard you ended up in some healing tank that Bulma had to build because you're constantly getting your ass kicked in that gravity chamber of yours."

Vegeta held his tongue and returned his attention to his food. Evidently Bulma had told the bastard about his last trip to the regeneration tank. He couldn't help but wonder what else she had told him.

"Is the chicken all right, Dear?"

Vegeta looked up. Mrs. Briefs had addressed him directly, since she was looking at him expectantly. "Yes, it's delicious as always, Bunny. I am thoroughly enjoying my meal."

"Oh, I'm so glad. There's plenty more in the oven keeping warm," Mrs. Briefs informed him. "I know how much you and Geta love to eat."

"Vegeta, back to the ki beacons," Dr. Briefs spoke up. "You're available to assist Bulma whenever she needs you, aren't you?"

Vegeta nodded. "That shouldn't be a problem. I look forward to participating in your testing, Bulma."

"Probably because you have nothing better to do, since you're too damn lazy to get a job like the rest of us," Hiroshi interjected rudely.

"Hiroshi..." Bulma shifted in her seat. Vegeta had to be stewing inside, as a vein at the side of his forehead had become pronounced and he had visibly tensed.

"That goes for both of you moochers," Hiroshi continued, ignoring Bulma's plea. "Kami damned bunch of circus freaks."

Geta set down his fork. "Why you..." Anya grabbed his arm, her eyes pleading with him not to intervene at the deliberate jab.

"That's it." Vegeta stood up and crossed his arms, his eyes flashing fire. The man could say what he wanted to about him, but when he got family involved, that crossed the line of how much he was willing to tolerate. "Bulma, we talk, now."

Bulma stood up slowly. "Vegeta, I don't think this is the best time-"

"Now!" Vegeta shouted, pointing to the kitchen. "I've had enough of this."

Little Vegeta began to whimper. "Ganpa?" he asked hesitantly.

"It's all right, Vegeta," Anya murmured, rubbing her son's back soothingly. "Bulma, please."

Bulma stalked into the kitchen, embarrassed. She waited for Vegeta to come in and immediately turned on him. "What the hell was that all about?" she hissed. "You have some nerve. Don't you ever do that again!"

Vegeta blinked at her and let out a snort. "I have nerve?" he asked incredulously. "That jackass at the table continually insulted not only me, but our son, Bulma. Our son, and you did nothing to prevent him from ruining everyone's meal," he retorted accusingly.

"Don't you talk about him that way, Vegeta. You just made a scene in there," Bulma countered angrily. She was effectively cornered, and hated the feeling. Vegeta had hurt her! She wasn't going to let him talk about the man who actually cared about how she felt that way.

"I don't believe what I'm hearing. Did you or did you not just witness his behavior, Bulma?" Vegeta countered back. "I did nothing to provoke such rudeness and made every attempt to be civil for your sake, Bulma. Your sake."

"I also witnessed your behavior, Vegeta. You could have let me say something, but instead you overreacted. You acted like the jackass, and you frightened our grandson," Bulma snapped. "How do you expect me to defend you when you blow up like that? Talk about civil behavior."

Vegeta drew himself up straighter. "I confess, I have spent a lot of time with distasteful people in my lifetime, but it was never by choice," he challenged.

Bulma's eyes flashed angrily at him. "Screw you, Vegeta!" she screamed.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow. If that was the way she wanted it, so be it. "As Her Highness requires," he replied smoothly. "Name the time and place and I will be pleased to accommodate you."

Her face reddened. "I don't appreciate your sarcasm nor do I find it very amusing, Vegeta," she snapped.

"What sarcasm?" Vegeta retorted, crossing his arms. "Are you informing me that you have relinquished your title? For I assure you that I have not rescinded it."

"Title?" Bulma blinked in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Vegeta leaned in close, and curiosity prevented her from moving away. "Princess of Saiyans, of course," he whispered huskily in her ear. "When you accepted me into your bed and bore me a son, that is what you became, among other things." He ran a finger down her neck over the scar he'd given her, making her shiver. "We both know you were aware of that."

Bulma's eyes widened. "Vegeta," she whispered. His lips hovered dangerously close to her own. "I- I... What are you saying?" Her eyelids drooped as he lowered his face even closer to hers.

"I think you know exactly what I'm saying," Vegeta murmured. His arms encircled her waist and he drew her close, pressing the length of his body up against her. He brushed his lips across hers almost undetectably, but it was enough to make her gasp and shudder.

Just as she was expecting his mouth to cover hers in a passionate kiss, he suddenly released her from his grasp and left the kitchen. Astounded and confused, she leaned back against the counter for support and shook her head to clear it. ~What the hell?~ Her cheeks flushed angrily; he was playing with her, toying with her emotions. She threw open the door and stormed after him.

"Just a minute there, Vegeta," she called after him. "I'm not finished with you!" She strode past the others, who were still seated at the table.

Vegeta turned to face her. "What is it, Woman?"

"You've got a lot of audacity asking me that," she retorted. "You know what I'm talking about. What the hell were you thinking in there?" Bulma jerked her thumb toward the kitchen.

Vegeta stood staring at her for a moment. He could see Hiroshi sneering at him and wished he could wipe the smirk off the arrogant bastard's face. Wordlessly, he took Bulma's arm and pulled her further away.

"Hey!" she objected. "What are you doing?"

"Take your filthy hands off of my girlfriend, you brainless gorilla," Hiroshi yelled around bites of his chicken, not bothering to get up from the table.

Vegeta ignored him and guided her back into the kitchen. After what had nearly happened in his room earlier he didn't want to do what he was about to do, but there was no point in delaying the inevitable. "Look, Bulma. I didn't want it to come out this way, but what I have to say must be said. The legalities that existed on my planet obviously do not apply here," he began, trying to keep his voice calm. "I may not like that, but I understand it and I am forced to accept it.

"My first inclination a moment ago was to shove everything off of the counter and claim what is mine, but that is no longer the case when it comes to you. I'm such a jackass, as you so tenderly reminded me, that I threw away the only good thing I ever had in my life in an attempt to save my pride." He released her arm and looked away.

"Vegeta, I-"

"I spoke the truth to you when I said you are a distraction to me," he continued numbly. "But I lied when I said you were an unwanted and unneeded distraction. All I could ever think about was you, of having you in my arms, hearing you gasp and sigh and moan my name as you bucked and writhed beneath me in pleasure, but I couldn't tell you that. I couldn't tell you that the mere thought of seeing your flirtatious little smile or of touching your body distracted me to the point that I could no longer train properly." He sighed and ran his hand over his face. "I could have simply told you that Earth's resources no longer adequately suited my needs, which you would have understood, but I foolishly reasoned that if you were angry at me when I left it would be easier on both of us. When I saw how much my words crushed you, again, my pride wouldn't allow me to take back what I said, and I hated myself, cursed myself, for it.

"Once I was in space, I knew that I had lost you, that there was no reason for you to accept me back, that you would hate me with every fiber of your being. The worst part was that I brought it upon myself, and not only did I lose you, but I realized that I effectively forfeited all rights to my son as well. I am grateful that you allow me that at least." He sighed again and continued before she could interject. "My training in space was useless. I had nothing to live for, and I didn't care if I died; in fact, I almost did. It was the thought, the tiniest hope that I might, just might, have you one last time before I died that kept me going." He turned away from her, unable to hide the pain and self-loathing which shrouded his face.

Bulma stared at him in shock and surprise. It had taken every ounce of strength and courage he had to push back his pride and tell her what he just did. Now, he again struggled to keep himself emotionally in check. She reached out to place her hand on his arm. "Vegeta..."

He flinched at her touch as if she had burned him. "Don't," he gasped. "Please don't. I just... just leave me be!" He left through the back door for the GR before she could say another word and turned on the gravity simulator to its highest setting, welcoming the painful stresses he would soon be inflicting upon his body, ready to welcome anything at all to dull the ache in his heart and mind.

As she saw the red lights appear at the GR's windows, Bulma covered her face with her hands and cried. ~He'll beat himself senseless again, I just know it!~ Why had it come to this? Why did every interaction with him have to be so ugly? She'd been angry, but she knew in her heart that he wasn't lying when he said he was sorry and didn't want to see him hurt himself. But that was exactly what he was doing, when she could have prevented it by simply talking to him weeks ago.

The kitchen door opened and Geta rushed over to her. "Mother! Mother, are you all right?" he exclaimed, taking her into his arms. "What did he say to you?"

Bulma heard the anger in her son's voice and looked up at him. He looked so much like his father. She broke away from him and fled out of the kitchen to her room.

"Oh, my," Mrs. Briefs murmured in concern as her daughter ran by. "Maybe I should go check on her. She seems so sad."

Geta sat back down at the table wearily and shook his head. "No," he disagreed. "It's my experience that when Mother pulls away and runs like that, she wants to be left alone. If she wanted us to be around her, she would have stayed."

Hiroshi snorted and tossed down the chicken bone he'd just finished. "See, Bunny? I told you that Saiyan is nothing but a lousy, no good piece of trash," he announced, inwardly pleased when Geta got back up to his feet angrily. "He's just ruining her life. Why do you keep that stupid loser around? You would be far better off kicking his sort of such a waste of space off to the curb."

Dr. Briefs was about to speak up when Anya beat him to it. She made a disgusted noise and glared daggers at Hiroshi. "It's obvious what your true meaning is, you sick, pathetic little excuse of a man," she snapped, holding her arm out in front of her red faced and enraged husband. "You have a lot of nerve insulting my husband and son right in front of them. Oh, and by the way, you disgusting waste of space," she repeated mockingly, "I don't like one bit that you're in a much better man's seat, so take your own advice and hit the curb before I throw your sorry ass out myself." She crossed her arms in a perfect Vegeta stance.

Geta stood behind her, smirking at him. The smirk widened into a smile, and he bared his fangs as he did so, laying his hand upon her shoulder so that it touched her bare neck. Watching his tiny slip of a wife throw Hiroshi out would be entertaining for sure.

"Hmph." Hiroshi rose from the table. "You people disgust me," he spat back. "Believe me when I say that Bulma shall hear of this."

"She most certainly will, I assure you of that. I think it would be best if you went now, Hiroshi. Have a pleasant evening."

All eyes turned to Mrs. Briefs to look at her in shock; all except for her husband's, that is, who knew his wife better than anyone else did and was not in the least bit surprised by her statement. Mrs. Briefs had always been quite fond of not only her grandsons but also of Vegeta, looking past his rough exterior to see the positive aspects of him. She had chosen to do the same the last time he had left her daughter and gone into space.

And oh, yes... Mrs. Briefs didn't like Hiroshi one iota, either. She only tolerated him because she hoped that her daughter would see the true Hiroshi sooner than later and, knowing that if she voiced her opinion it would only spite her stubborn daughter and drive her even deeper into the horrid man's clutches, wisely kept out of Bulma's affairs.

Not this time.

"Good night, Hiroshi," Dr. Briefs added, sipping his coffee as he went back to his meal.

Hiroshi knew he had no supporters and decided to take his leave. Saying nothing, he haughtily strode from the table, head held high.

"I don't like that uncouth young man," Mrs. Briefs commented. She gasped and placed her fingertips over her mouth. "Oh, my... what a dreadful thing to say about someone."

"Oh, I think you're forgiven this time, love," Dr. Briefs told his wife. "You said nothing out of place in the least."

***

Vegeta emerged from the GR late that night, his body tired, sore and screaming with pain. It was little more than he deserved. He'd hurt her, and she'd made her choice. After he'd explained things to her, she'd simply stared at him. There had been nothing more he could have said, so he had left the awkward situation.

He dropped his once nice clothes on the floor. They were completely destroyed from his training. It wasn't as though it mattered. She had been the one who had selected them. There was no reason to try to appear well groomed, not for her sake. If she would prefer to be with her rude, verbally abusive boyfriend, what was the point?

He showered quickly and collapsed onto his bed. Why, oh why had he left the way he had? Wanting her back as his mate had nothing to do with it. He needed her more than he needed air to breathe. But she was no longer his. He sighed. This was useless. He needed to get some sleep, to rest his weary body and to rid his mind of the self-depreciating thoughts running through it.

But, despite having deprived himself for the past three days, sleep refused to come.

Vegeta got up from the bed and pulled on a pair of shorts. He had not finished his meal that night. Perhaps he would get a snack. He headed for the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Nothing seemed to appeal to him. Nothing in the entire kitchen did. Geta had mentioned making warm milk before when he couldn't sleep, but there was no milk left.

It was then that Vegeta recalled Dr. Briefs pouring himself what he referred to as a "nightcap" on several occasions before going to bed. He didn't know what was in the beverage, but knew he would recognize the bottle. He went to the mini bar in the den and located the bottle in question. Taking a glass, he poured a good amount of the brown liquid inside and sniffed it experimentally.

"Hmm. Smells like wood. This is not wine, is it?" he mused to himself. He liked wine and had sampled it on various planets he'd been on. Usually they were light in color or red. However, he had yet to sample one that was brown. He shrugged and took a good gulp of his drink.

The next thing he knew, Vegeta coughed and was gasping for breath. "What the hell is this stuff?" he rasped, holding the bottle up. This was no ordinary wine; he should have known that from the strong odor of it. He sat down on the couch with the glass and sniffed it again. It hadn't tasted bad to him. Perhaps he should just sip it more slowly. That was what the doctor had done. Small wonder, since it had burned on the way down unlike any wine he'd ever consumed. He took a much smaller sip and savored the flavor of it before swallowing. Ah yes, much better.

By the time he was done with the entire glass, Vegeta was feeling somewhat less melancholy and definitely sleepier. If one glass was good, two would be even better. He'd just pour himself another glass and head off to bed.

***

"Vegeta?"

Vegeta opened his eyes with a groan. Mrs. Briefs was leaning over him and shaking his shoulder. "Wha? What happened?" he asked groggily.

"You fell asleep on the couch, Dear," Mrs. Briefs told the bleary-eyed Saiyan. "No wonder you're groaning. That couch wasn't meant for sleeping on all night."

Ah. She thought his neck hurt. He'd just let her believe it, for he'd finished the entire bottle of the wine- or whatever it was- just a few hours prior, and was feeling a little queasy from it. His head ached as he sat up on the couch. "I guess that wasn't the best idea," he murmured.

Mrs. Briefs smiled. "Well, your breakfast is ready, anyway," she announced. "I'll dish you up a plate." She headed for the kitchen, a small frown on her face. She'd seen the glass. Evidently Vegeta had a nightcap before falling asleep on the couch, the poor dear. She hoped that he and Bulma would patch things up soon. Whiskey was such strong stuff. She set a plate and cup of coffee in front of him as he dragged himself up to the table. "Here you are, Dear."

"Thank you." Vegeta did his best not to cringe at the oppressively bright sunlight streaming in through the kitchen's windows. That wine had really knocked him out. He'd have to find out what it was in case he couldn't sleep again. He dug into his food. Hopefully food would make his stomach feel better.

"You're welcome. Oh! I forgot to tell you, Shatsu and Geta are going for their final tuxedo fittings today," Mrs. Briefs spoke up. "The tailor has your measurements on file, but I think it would be best if you went too, don't you think?"

Vegeta held in another groan. He hadn't gotten much sleep and his head was aching. The absolute last thing he wanted to do was to try on clothing. But this was for Anya and Geta's wedding, so he would do it. "I suppose so," he agreed. "When are they leaving?"

"In an hour," she responded. "You looked so tired, so I let you sleep as long as possible before I woke you up."

"Oh. Thanks." He took a gulp of coffee, recalling the almost buzz he'd gotten the time he'd consumed an entire pot of the blasted brown substance she'd gotten him hooked on. Perhaps it would help him wake up.

***

"Father? Are you all right?"

Vegeta nodded. "Yes, fine. I just didn't sleep well last night," he mumbled.

~Or the past few nights.~ "All right, let's get going then," Dr. Briefs decided. "We don't want to be late to our appointment. You know, you could always catch a nap in the back seat on the way there, Vegeta," he suggested as he unencapsulated a vehicle.

"No, no, I'm fine," Vegeta repeated. The food had helped, as had the coffee and the shower he'd taken. He should have learned from Anya's example. How did humans find overindulgence in alcohol to be entertaining? He knew his Saiyan physiology had helped his body rid itself of the alcohol faster than any human's body could have, and yet he'd felt terrible when he'd woken up. He should not have consumed as much of whatever the hell that bottle contained as he had. Although, it couldn't be all that bad since it had helped him to relax enough that he was able to sleep.

"You know, Gramps, since we've been making so many trips for fittings, maybe we should just leave one of Mother's beacons at Nobu's," Geta suggested as he got in the driver's seat. "That way, we could just teleport back and forth."

"That's a good idea, Geta," Dr. Briefs agreed. "The problem being remembering where they all are and which one is which..."

Vegeta tuned out the conversation and stared out the window as the car drove down the road. This day was going to suck, he just knew it.

***

"I don't understand." Nobu shook his head. Not a single piece of the tuxedo fit. "You must have been working out big time to bulk up this much."

"Uhm, yes," Vegeta muttered. "Strength training." There was no need to mention that it was his ascension to Super Saiyan that had increased his body mass. Strength training would do.

"Wow. Well, good thing I have time to redo it." Nobu grabbed his notes and a measuring tape. "All right, over here so I can measure you, then."

Geta watched as his father reluctantly obeyed and took the position Nobu directed. :Father?:

:Your grandfather knows of my ascension. I trust him not to tell your mother,: Vegeta responded. :He is a good man, and has been better to me than I deserve.:

:Father, please, let's not get into all of that now,: Geta told him. :Let's just do this and get back home. Anya and I have some things to take care of, and from the looks of you, you could use some more sleep.: He received the equivalent of a mental nod from his father.

:You're right, Son. In fact, there is something I would like to take care of myself today.:

***

Vegeta pulled a small card out of his drawer and examined it. He had observed various members of the family using the telephone and deduced that it couldn't be all that difficult. After all, he'd figured out how to drive a vehicle simply through observation, hadn't he? Although he was unable to read the text on the card, numbers were numbers and he could read those just fine.

Finding himself glad now that Mrs. Briefs had insisted that he would want his own phone line in his room, he picked the phone up from its cradle and pressed the buttons corresponding to the numbers on the card, hesitated, then pressed a green button which seemed to be the most prominent one on the phone. "Good, that's right," he murmured to himself as he heard noises indicating that he had indeed correctly dialed coming from the earpiece.

"Technical Dynamics Corporation, how may I direct your call?" came a woman's voice from the phone.

"I would like to speak to Dr. Ueda, please," Vegeta responded politely, figuring that he'd have a better chance of speaking to the doctor if he was nice to this woman.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Ueda is lecturing at WesternCapitalUniversity today," the woman informed him. "Would you like to leave a message?"

"Sure." Vegeta supposed that was better than nothing; after all, if the man was an instructor as well as a scientist, an appointment would most likely be required to see him anyway. "Please tell him that Vegeta called. I met him at a gathering I attended with Bulma Briefs a few months back."

"All right," the woman responded. She would definitely make sure that this message was received, since anyone involved with the Briefs family or Capsule Corp was regarded as being of high importance. "What telephone number can you be reached at?"

Vegeta panicked slightly- he had no idea what his telephone number was. After all, he certainly did not call himself, and who did he know other than Kakarrot that would want to call him? "Oh... I feel rather foolish," he confessed. "This is a new telephone line, and I do not recall the number."

"That's all right. I have the number you're calling from on caller ID," the woman responded. "Would it be all right to return your call on this line?"

"Yes, that would be acceptable, thank you," Vegeta agreed. He was tempted to ask her to give him the number she saw, but didn't want to seem any more dim-witted than he probably already did.

"You're welcome, Sir. I'll let Dr. Ueda know that you called."

Vegeta hung up the phone and sat down on the edge of his bed. He looked down at the business card again, wondering whether he'd just made the right decision. He could have gone to Dr. Briefs himself instead, but somehow he wasn't ready to divulge any more information on his trip to space than he already had. It wasn't that he didn't trust the older man, but he wasn't comfortable with Bulma knowing and he didn't need to burden him with another secret to keep from her. Besides, Bulma's asinine boyfriend had been right about one thing, and Vegeta didn't want any more of the Briefs' charity. Even though he had something to give in exchange, it would still be Dr. Briefs' money he was receiving, especially since to be honest, ownership of said item to exchange wasn't completely his, considering how he came to be in its possession. It was better off this way.

Vegeta returned the card to its place in the drawer and reclined back down on his bed against the pillows to watch television. Dr. Bill would be on soon. Perhaps he would watch that. It was better than those Jerry Leaper and Martha Homemaker shows.

***

Vegeta awoke with a start when the phone at his bedside rang. He didn't remember any of what had been on television, and must have been more exhausted than he thought to have fallen asleep so quickly. He turned off the noisy video device and answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Hello, may I speak to Vegeta, please?"

Vegeta recognized the voice at the other end of the line immediately. "Dr. Ueda, thank you for returning my call," he responded.

"No problem at all. So tell me, are you calling because you've decided that you'd like some employment with Technical Dynamics?" Dr. Ueda asked.

Vegeta chuckled. "No, not yet," he told him. "I would actually like to set up an appointment with you. I have something that I think you may find of interest."

"Oh? What is it?" Dr. Ueda asked.

"I'm not entirely sure," Vegeta began slowly, "although I acquired it during a recent journey in space."

There was a pause on the line. "Can you meet me at the address on the card I gave you in half an hour?" Vegeta couldn't have known it, but Dr. Ueda was fascinated by space exploration and had even built his own telescope.

Vegeta's eyebrows went up in surprise. This was an important individual, and he was not even being required to set up a formal appointment. "I will be there. Thank you, Dr. Ueda."

"I'm looking forward to it. See you in half an hour." Dr. Ueda ended the call.

Vegeta set the phone back down in its cradle and drew in a deep breath. Here went nothing. The secret would be out, unless he could convince the doctor to keep things under wraps. He opened his nightstand drawer again and retrieved the business card and a capsule, which he shoved into his pocket. Searching out for his son's ki, he found him in the kitchen and teleported to him.

Geta looked up from the snack he was fixing. "Hey, Father. Would you like some sandwiches?"

Vegeta shook his head. "No, but I have a favor to ask of you."

Geta put the sandwich he'd been making on a plate with the others and licked some mayonnaise from his fingers. "Shoot."

Vegeta handed him the business card. "Can you show me where this facility is?"

Geta looked at the card and nodded. "I know where that street is. The building shouldn't be that hard to find, especially if it's the one I think it is," he decided. "When do you want to go?"

"I need to go now," Vegeta told him. "I will explain on the way there." He paused. "You cannot tell anyone about this, especially not your mother."

Geta eyed his sandwiches longingly before putting some plastic wrap over the plate and putting everything in the refrigerator. "All right, let's go. We should probably drive so we don't weird anyone out."

Vegeta shrugged. "It's not like I've never flown into the city before. Besides, those damn paparazzi people even have pictures of it," he complained irritably.

"Exactly. And you just said you don't want anyone to know where you're going or what you're doing," Geta pointed out.

Vegeta's mouth opened to reply, then closed again. "You drive."

***

Geta pulled up in front of the building. "Here we are. Did you want me to wait for you?"

Vegeta shook his head. "No, that's not necessary. I don't know how long this will take, and I can simply teleport myself home," he decided.

"All right. You know how to find me if you need me." Geta gave his father a two-fingered wave.

Vegeta nodded. "Son?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

Geta nodded in return and drove away.

Vegeta looked up at the massive Technical Dynamics building and started up the stairs. Once inside, he approached a reception area where a young woman sat.

"Welcome to Technical Dynamics, may I help you?" the woman asked cheerfully.

"Yes, could you inform Dr. Ueda that Vegeta is here to see him?" Vegeta responded.

"Oh yes, he's expecting you. His office is on the fifteenth floor. Take that elevator over there up, then turn left when you step out and the office will be on the left. His assistant will let him know you've arrived," the woman instructed.

"Thank you." A few minutes later, Vegeta found himself standing in an expensively decorated office as he waited for Dr. Ueda's assistant to send him back. It reminded him somewhat of where Bulma worked. He held in a sigh. Everything came back to her. It was always her occupying his mind. And now, he'd ruined things still again with her. But, he had been able to finally explain things to her. Maybe, just maybe, she'd get past being angry with him and think about the things he'd confessed to her.

"Hello there Vegeta!" Dr. Ueda's voice interrupted his thoughts. The scientist shook his hand. "It's good to see you again. Please step into my office so we can speak privately." He ushered Vegeta into his personal office and shut the door. He sat down at his desk, indicating a chair for Vegeta in front of it. "So, what can I do for you?"

Vegeta sat down in the chair. "I... I suppose you have heard about Bulma and me," he murmured uncomfortably.

"Yes, I did," Dr. Ueda told him. He didn't know how that would relate to whatever it was he had to show him, but what else was there to say in response to such a statement?

"I ask that what I am about to show you remain confidential," Vegeta requested, furthering the other man's curiosity. "I am not ready to let Bulma or her family know of this yet."

Dr. Ueda nodded. "All right," he agreed. "What do you have for me?"

Vegeta reached into his pocket and pulled out the capsule. "I took one of Dr. Briefs' ships into space for reasons unrelated to Capsule Corp not long ago," he began. "While I was there, I found what is inside this capsule." He held it up. "Where may it be opened? The contents would not exceed the area of your desk."

Dr. Ueda had many files on his desk and so he stood up to scan the office. "Here," he said, going over to a credenza against one wall and removing a few items that sat atop it. "You can open it here."

Vegeta went over to the credenza and opened the capsule, then stepped back. As expected, he heard a gasp from the scientist standing beside him.

"Is this... could this be Wethion stone?" Dr. Ueda asked incredulously. There was quite a bit of the rare stone on his credenza. If even one little piece of it was indeed genuine, Vegeta could expect to fetch quite a price for it.

"That is why I came to you," Vegeta countered. "I was hoping that you or someone with whom you are acquainted could verify for me whether it is indeed Wethion."

Dr. Ueda had been holding up a piece of the stone to more closely inspect it and set it back down to look at Vegeta. "You know, you could have had Bulma or her father do that for you," he said slowly. "Why didn't you? Why such secrecy?" To his surprise, Vegeta dropped his eyes.

"Because if this stone was still in space as it should be, you would not have heard about Bulma and me," Vegeta responded quietly. "Besides, I don't want any of Bulma's money."

There was no way Dr. Ueda could not have seen the slight trembling of the younger man's chin and his rapid blinking, and he realized with sudden clarity just what Vegeta meant- he had gone into space on bad terms with Bulma and regretted it. The stone meant nothing to him compared to the loss of their relationship, and he didn't want the Briefs thinking the value of the stone softened that loss. "Vegeta, I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't intend to pour salt into your wound by my question."

Vegeta drew in a deep breath as he composed himself. "It's not your fault," he managed. He looked up at Dr. Ueda with eyes full of poorly masked pain. "But you see now why I cannot involve the Briefs or Capsule Corp in this just yet?"

"I understand," Dr. Ueda acknowledged. He couldn't claim to know- nor did he need to know- what exactly happened between Bulma and the man standing before him, but it was obvious that Vegeta was crushed by their split. Additionally, if Vegeta had gone into space for personal reasons as he insinuated but used a Capsule Corp ship to do so, he doubly understood now why Vegeta would keep the Wethion a secret for the time being. Revelation of its existence would turn his situation into an ever uglier mess. "Say, would you like to go to my lab and test one of these stones?"

Vegeta nodded. "We might as well," he agreed. He picked up a piece the size of an acorn. "Will this one do?"

"Oh, this one would be more than enough," Dr. Ueda assured him, selecting a pea-sized stone. "Let's encapsulate the rest of that, shall we?"

Once the rest of the stone was safely back inside the capsule, the two men made their way to Dr. Ueda's lab. "By the way, Dr. Ueda. If I truly have found Wethion, what do you suppose it is worth?"

Dr. Ueda let them inside and secured the door behind them. "This little piece in my hand? I would wager you could get, oh, at least fifteen to twenty million zeni for it. Don't lose that capsule in your pocket." He chuckled at the deer-in-the-headlights look his guest had on his face.

"Kami," Vegeta finally muttered. He had eleven more capsules at home that had even larger amounts of the stone in them. The prospective cumulative value of all twelve capsules was absolutely staggering.

"Well, let's find out what we have here." Dr. Ueda scraped a tiny bit from the stone and placed it into a Petri dish.

Vegeta watched in silence as the doctor conducted his testing. He couldn't help but feel anxious. He needed money if he was to no longer depend upon the Briefs, but he didn't want this money. It just didn't feel right. Just like his ascension to Super Saiyan, the acquisition of this stone simply wasn't worth it.

Dr. Ueda set down his things and looked at Vegeta. "Well, congratulations Vegeta. You have indeed found Wethion stone."

"I see," Vegeta responded glumly.

Dr. Ueda wasn't sure how to react to Vegeta's response. On the one hand he understood the younger man's upset, but on the other, this was a fantastic discovery. Aside from the money, one mention of this would give him instant celebrity status in the scientific world. You'd think he'd at least be happy about not needing to rely on the Briefs' money any more. Conversely, Dr. Ueda hadn't lost the woman he cared about because of his work. He loved his wife dearly and the mere thought of it was upsetting. "Vegeta?" he ventured.

"I... I don't want it," Vegeta mumbled. "If I wasn't in need of revenue, I'd destroy it all." He heard the doctor's sharp intake of breath and looked up. "Whatever its value, it isn't worth the price I paid to acquire it, Dr. Ueda," he said, echoing his earlier sentiments to Dr. Briefs.

Dr. Ueda felt his heart twist in sympathy when he saw the glassiness in Vegeta's eyes as he struggled for the second time to maintain his composure. "I'm truly sorry for your loss," he said sincerely. "I wish I could be of assistance to you."

Vegeta managed a little smile. "You have been, thank you."

"You're welcome." Dr. Ueda considered his words carefully before speaking. "Vegeta, I have listened carefully to what you told me about your feelings regarding this Wethion," he began, "but still, I have to believe that you came to me because you would like to sell it and thought I might know of some interested parties. Am I correct in my assumption?"

Vegeta sighed and gave the doctor a little nod. "I do need some money," he concurred.

"All right. I have one colleague in particular who would love to get his hands on one of your stones. He does have a tiny fragment, but I believe his organization would pay handsomely for a larger piece," Dr. Ueda told him. "I'll contact him for you right away."

"Thank you. I am grateful for your assistance," Vegeta told him. "Incidentally, how large of a piece do you think your colleague would want?"

Dr. Ueda's eyebrow rose. "I would think that any of the pieces you have in your possession would satisfy him," he said slowly. "Just what are you saying, Vegeta?"

"I'm saying that there's more where this came from," he said confidentially, holding up the capsule again. "These are the tiny pieces."

Dr. Ueda's other eyebrow rose. The sale of one of the largest of the pieces he'd already seen could easily rival the gross national product of a small country. "Those are tiny? And you have more?" he stammered.

Amused by Dr. Ueda's reaction, Vegeta allowed a small smirk to play at the corner of his mouth. "I have a piece larger than your head," he informed the doctor, "and another one about the size of your chest, along with various sizes in between those and the one in your hand, as well."

"Great Kami," Dr. Ueda breathed. "Where are you keeping all of this? I do hope it's a secured location."

Vegeta shrugged. "In my nightstand drawer," he said in a manner so casual that it was unclear as to whether he was serious or not.

Dr. Ueda let out his breath. "Vegeta, I don't know if you're joking or serious, but may I suggest dividing your assets between safety deposit boxes at several different facilities? You know the expression, 'Never put all your eggs in one basket,' right?"

"No, I haven't heard that one yet, but I suppose it makes sense," Vegeta mused. He realized his error when the doctor again looked at him curiously. "Ah, I know what you're thinking. 'What planet does this guy come from?' Am I right?"

The doctor actually looked a little embarrassed. "It's a very common expression," he acknowledged.

"I surmised the same, by the expression on your face," Vegeta told him. "And so, you learn of another secret that I didn't intend to reveal today and ask that you keep. I don't need the media harassing Bulma about her freak half-breed alien son." He frowned irritably. "They harass her enough already as it is."

Vegeta was an alien! Dr. Ueda nodded slowly as he contained his reaction. "I understand." He paused, mulling his thoughts in his mind. "Vegeta, you should know that I am fascinated by space and space exploration. When you said you went to space, I was actually a little envious of you," he admitted. "But never in my wildest dreams did I think that I would ever become personally acquainted with a being from another world." He chuckled a little. "Forgive me, I tend to prattle on when I become excited by talk of my favorite pastime."

Vegeta chuckled in return. "You're not the only human I have found who does so," he teased. "So... who exactly did you have in mind for my Wethion?"

"Never fear, it's a reputable organization. My friend is a curator at the WesternCapitalMuseum. They have quite the planetarium there, as well as a large exhibit with items relating to space," Dr. Ueda explained. "That is where the Wethion fragment I told you about is currently on display. Seeing as it is the largest museum in the world, I'm sure the they would be very interested in purchasing another larger stone to display, as they have the funds to do so. Additionally, such an acquisition would bring quite the draw of viewers to the museum."

Vegeta contemplated this. "It would be for a good cause," he spoke his thoughts aloud. "All right. If you can find out what size he is looking for, I will bring by several pieces for him to choose from. But I wish for the source of the stone to remain anonymous."

"Of course," Dr. Ueda agreed. "I may also be able to sell a piece to WesternCapitalUniversity for you. It would be a much smaller piece than the museum would purchase, but I believe they would be interested nonetheless."

"If you can sell a piece to the museum, I will donate one to your university," Vegeta offered.

Dr. Ueda's face brightened. "Vegeta, how incredibly generous of you. The university would truly appreciate your contribution, I assure you."

Vegeta nodded. "It's not a problem at all."

"I'll contact you when I hear from my colleague at the museum. Oh!" Dr. Ueda added quickly, "I almost forgot to give you your stone back." He carefully picked up the small stone they had brought to the lab and held it out.

Vegeta dismissed his offering with a small wave of his hand. "Keep it. Consider it a finder's fee."

Dr. Ueda's eyes widened in surprise. "Are... are you sure about that?"

Vegeta smiled, but his face took on a somber look. "Positive."

Dr. Ueda understood Vegeta's unspoken meaning, these stones mean nothing to me. "Thank you, Vegeta. I wish you the best."

Vegeta nodded again, understanding the doctor's unspoken words this time. "I appreciate your time. Have a pleasant evening, Dr. Ueda."

"It was my pleasure, Vegeta. I'll show you out."

***

Vegeta walked along the street, not quite ready to go back home yet as he thought about what had just happened. "Hmph. Maybe now her stupid boyfriend can quit accusing me of being a moocher," he growled to himself. He crammed his hands into his coat pockets, the fingers of one hand coming into contact with some money Geta had given him. Perhaps he would find what he was looking for.

He was so deep in thought that he didn't know how long he'd been walking when he came across a small café and went inside. It was warm and seemed pleasant enough, so he sat down at one of the seats at the counter.

"Hello, what can I get for you, Sir?" a young woman behind the counter asked.

Vegeta removed his gloves and stuck them in his pocket. "Coffee with cream and sugar, please."

The woman set a cup down in front of him. "Anything else? A slice of pie, maybe?"

Pie did sound good. "Do you have apple?" Vegeta asked.

"Of course! Would you like it warmed?" the woman offered, playing up on his sudden obvious interest.

"Sure, why not?" Vegeta responded. He held the coffee cup in his hands while he waited, enjoying the gentle warmth it emitted.

The woman returned with the pie and set it down in front of him. "Here you go."

"Thank you." Vegeta took a bite of the pie. "It's very good." It was not as good as Mrs. Briefs' apple pie, but he was hungry and it tasted delicious just the same.

The woman beamed happily. "Thank you. It's our family recipe."

The woman turned away to greet some other customers who came in, but Vegeta noticed her sneaking looks at him a couple times as he ate. He couldn't help but wonder what she wanted. Did she find him suspicious, or threatening? Did he look pitifully cold and hungry? Perhaps she was the nurturing type, as Mrs. Briefs was.

"All set, or can I get you anything else?" she asked when he pushed his empty plate aside.

"No, I'm all set." Vegeta handed her some money. "But perhaps you could assist me. I would like to buy a bottle of wine for a friend. Do you know where I could purchase some nearby?"

"Oh, sure. Across the street and two blocks down there's a liquor store with a very nice selection. Just tell them what you're looking for and they'll help you find it," the woman told him.

"Thank you." Vegeta accepted his change and stuck it in his pocket.

"Have a nice day. Stay warm," the woman told him with a smile.

Vegeta nodded to her and went back out into the cold. It was snowing gently, big puffy flakes falling all around. He couldn't help but think of the day when they'd summoned the dragon and Bulma had come to the GR to get him. It had snowed like this that day, and she'd sat at the window to watch the snow. She'd wanted him to sit with her, but he'd refused. He sighed, again finding something to regret when it came to Bulma. Instead of a memory that he could have cherished forever, he'd chosen to train.

A man walked out of a store a few paces ahead of him with a case of beer. ~This must be the liquor store the woman told me about.~ Vegeta went inside and was met with aisle upon aisle, shelf upon shelf of bottles of all shape and color. That woman had spoken the truth about the selection; how would he ever find what he was looking for here?

A man with spiky orange hair and several piercings approached him. "Can I help you find something?"

"Yes, perhaps you can," Vegeta said, deciding to accept this man's assistance. If he worked here, he would know about the different types of alcohol. "I had an alcoholic beverage yesterday, but I don't know what it was."

"Ah, a booze newbie," the man commented. "Describe it to me."

Vegeta didn't know whether he should take offense to the man's comment but decided to ignore it. "It was brown in color and had a very strong odor. It did not smell like wine does. And it was harsh on my throat if I consumed it too rapidly."

"I'll bet it was whiskey," the man deduced. "Do you think you would recognize the bottle?"

Vegeta nodded. "Definitely."

"Well, here's what we've got. Take a look and see if you can spot it. If not, we'll try something else." The man steered him toward the correct shelf and went back to the front of the store.

It didn't take long before Vegeta spotted the same bottle. His eyes widened when he saw the cost; the doctor had expensive taste. It was a good thing he'd told Geta he hadn't known how much he would need and had managed to weasel a couple hundred zeni out of him.

"Hey, you found it," the man said with a smile as Vegeta approached the register. "Oh yeah, that's some nice whiskey," he commented. "Your friend or whoever has good taste."

So, that's what it was, whiskey. He might have known, for it was then that Vegeta remembered the P'Anto whiskey he had consumed years ago. The taste reminded him somewhat of it but the P'Anto definitely hadn't burned the way this drink had. "Yes," he agreed.

Seeing Vegeta wasn't going to be any more forthcoming, the man completed his transaction and placed the bottle in a bag. "Have a good one."

"Thank you for your assistance," Vegeta responded as he headed back out into the cold with his prize.

***

Vegeta appeared in the front hall, where he hung his coat up and put away his shoes. Feeling out for Geta's ki, he once again found him in the kitchen and went there. "Still eating?" he asked.

Geta ignored his father's ribbing and put down the half eaten slice of leftover pizza in his hand. "How did it go?"

"Good. I spoke to Dr. Ueda, and he was very helpful." Vegeta dropped what remained of the money Geta had given him on the counter and poured himself a cup of coffee.

Geta eyed the small pile of bills. There wasn't much left. "Big spender," he commented. "What did you buy that cost so much?"

Vegeta sat down at the table with his coffee and scowled. "Don't worry about it. I'll pay you back soon enough."

"Father, you know I don't care about the money. I'm only messing with you." Geta paused. "Does this mean it really was Wethion?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yes, it's really Wethion." Vegeta sighed. "At least I won't need to mooch anymore, right?"

"Father..." Geta sat down across the table from him. "I know I'm not one to talk, but you can't let this ass get to you. It only helps his case when he tells Mother you're no good. And you're not a mooch."

"Then what would you call it?" Vegeta countered. "It's not like I make any monetary contribution to this household."

"Father, there are some things that are more important than money," Geta told him softly. "For instance, if it weren't for your generosity, I wouldn't have my wife and son with me. You contribute in plenty of ways that don't involve money."

"Yes, and look where it's gotten me," Vegeta continued bitterly. "Your mother hates me for the things I've done."

"Mother doesn't hate you," Geta contradicted him. "She's hurt and confused right now. Give her some more time. She talked with you, didn't she? Let her think it over for a while." He got up from the table. "You're an important member of this family, Father. Don't ever feel otherwise. Far more important than what's-his-face. Let her get over her hurt, and keep being a better man than he is. At least that won't be hard."

Vegeta couldn't help but chuckle. "We'll see what happens." He picked up his coffee and cradled it between his hands the same way he had at the café.

"Hey, what's this?" Geta held up two pieces of paper that had been mixed in with the money. "This paper is a receipt for whatever it was you bought, but this looks like a phone number." He gave his father a crooked grin. "Who's Rikae?"

"I don't know any Rikae," Vegeta responded with a frown.

"Well, she knows you. It says, 'Call me', a phone number, and a name, Rikae," Geta reported.

It suddenly struck Vegeta just who Rikae was- the woman from the café. "Oh! I know who that must be. I had a cup of coffee in a café while I was out. She must have put the paper with my change." He snorted, but a small blush spread across his cheeks. "I wondered why she kept looking at me. I figured she thought I must be some vagrant or something."

Geta laughed and pocketed the money. "That's great, Father. You little flirt," he accused, tossing the number down on the table.

Vegeta scowled and crumpled up the note, cramming it into his pocket to dispose of later. "I did not flirt with that woman," he growled. "This was entirely her doing."

Geta continued to laugh. "She must have thought you were hot," he continued. "Are you going to call her?"

"No, I'm not going to call her," Vegeta retorted. "Why would I call her?" The blush returned. He had deduced that 'hot' could be construed to mean sexually attractive in certain circumstances when applied to a member of the opposite sex. Had this woman actually found him sexually attractive? He scowled at his grinning son. "Oh, shut up."

Anya came into the kitchen to see her father-in-law pointedly ignoring her husband, who was grinning like a fool. "What's going on in here?" she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

"Father went to a café today, and the waitress hit on him," Geta reported. "Show her the note, Father."

"I said shut up."

Anya sat down at the table. "Seriously, Pops? Aww, that's nothing to be ashamed of. She probably just thought you were hot, that's all."

Vegeta got up from the table. "Would the two of you stop saying that?" he growled irritably.

"Geta, were you teasing him? Shame on you!" Anya hit her husband on the arm. "Pops, don't be embarrassed. You're an attractive man. If anything, you should be flattered."

The memory of the flirtatious women in Dr. Briefs' office came back to Vegeta's mind, and he sighed. "It's just..." He didn't want Rikae or any other woman. He only wanted Bulma.

"I'm sorry, Father. I was just messing with you, remember?" Geta apologized. "But Anya's right. That woman didn't mean any harm. Don't take it the wrong way."

"I know." Vegeta left the kitchen and headed for his room.

Anya frowned at her husband disapprovingly. "Geta, you should have known better," she scolded. "You know that he still loves Bulma."

"You're right, An. I should have just told him what the note meant and left it at that," Geta conceded.

She sighed. "He'll be all right. Just try to be a little more understanding, that's all."

***

Vegeta looked at the bottle in his hand. After training for the rest of the day, he'd come back inside after everyone was asleep. He'd poured about a third of the contents of the new bottle of whiskey into the old bottle using a funnel so that everything looked as it had before, and put the new bottle into Dr. Briefs' mini bar. He'd then hidden the old bottle in his closet, although he didn't know why he'd bothered. He couldn't sleep again that night, and had gotten it back out. A little sip wouldn't hurt. Just a little sip, and maybe he'd be able to sleep again.

He set the whiskey down with a growl. No. No, he would not do this. He'd felt awful enough this morning and didn't need a repeat performance tomorrow morning.

He got back into bed and stared at the ceiling. What was it going to take to repair what a pitiful mess he'd made of his life? Why was he continually going over and over this in his head? He was going to drive himself insane if this didn't stop.

***

Vegeta awoke the next day and rolled over to see the time. He sat up quickly and stared at the clock in surprise. It was almost noon; had he really slept in that late? He sighed when his gaze fell upon the empty whiskey bottle in the trash basket next to his bed. It had helped him to finally fall asleep, but he needed to find another way to do it, afraid that he would become dependent on the beverage to fall asleep. He'd become addicted to coffee rather easily, after all. Besides, the whiskey was expensive and he wouldn't be able to purchase any more until he sold one of his Wethion stones.

He stretched and yawned before getting out of the bed. At least he'd slept long enough this time that he didn't feel bad. However, it was simply a waste of his day to sleep until noon.

He scoffed at the thought. It wasn't as though he had anything better planned to do that day. He showered quickly and went down to the kitchen in search of something to eat.

Mrs. Briefs was in the kitchen making lunch. "Good morning, Dear!" she sang as he entered the kitchen. "Or more accurately, good afternoon."

Vegeta let out a little chuckle. "Good afternoon, Bunny." He went over to her to see what she was preparing and reached out to swipe a piece of the ham she was using to make sandwiches.

"Stop that, you naughty young man," Mrs. Briefs scolded, swatting at his hands. "Why don't you go sit down at the table? Lunch will be ready in a few minutes." She picked up her wooden spoon and waggled it at him threateningly when he stole a pickle spear. "Don't make me use this on you."

He couldn't help but laugh at her mock scolding. "Sorry, Bunny," he told her unrepentantly. "I'm just so hungry and that looks so good that I couldn't wait."

She giggled and poured a cup of coffee, setting it down in front of him as he sat down at the table. He was just so cute that she couldn't be irritated at him. "Small wonder. You slept right through breakfast today, you poor dear." She was glad that Vegeta seemed to finally be catching up on some much needed sleep.

Vegeta began dumping a load of creamer and sugar into his coffee. "I was really tired, I guess."

"I figured you were. You hardly ever sleep in." Mrs. Briefs paused before saying what was really on her mind. "Vegeta, if you're available today, I think that Bulma wanted to run those tests that Shatsu was talking about the other night at dinner," she informed him. "She won't be coming back for lunch, but she mentioned something about the tests before she left for work today."

Vegeta took a drink of his coffee to cover up his trepidation. Would this turn into another ugly confrontation? Or would she be willing to let what had happened at dinner go? "Did she want me to meet her at the lab?"

"I think so," Mrs. Briefs confirmed. "You could call her on her cell phone if you want."

Vegeta shook his head. There was no sense in putting it off. "No, I think I'll just go over there after lunch," he decided.

***

Vegeta entered the lab. No one was in sight, but he could hear voices coming from Dr. Briefs' portion of the lab. "Hello?"

"Back here, Vegeta," Dr. Briefs called out.

He entered the room, disappointed to confirm that Hiroshi was also present. Why did the slimeball always have to be around? "You needed me?"

Bulma nodded. "I'd like you to do the ki test in this booth that Daddy showed you earlier," she told him.

Vegeta nodded. "All right." He stepped into the booth and waited patiently for her directions.

Bulma looked a little surprised but secured the booth and the small room it was inside. "Can you hear me, Vegeta?" her voice came into the booth.

He nodded and gave her a thumbs up. "Ready," his lips moved.

Bulma made a mental note to make the communication system two way and powered on the booth. "Drop your ki all the way down, then go ahead and power up as high as you can," she instructed.

Dr. Briefs caught a brief glance from the younger man as he powered up. It had been an incredible sight to behold, but he remembered his promise not to mention anything of Vegeta's ascension to his daughter. When Vegeta was ready, he'd tell her. "Slow and steady, Vegeta," he added in reminder.

Bulma's eyes widened as Vegeta's body continued to kick out an incredible amount of ki. "Daddy, look at this," she whispered. "His power levels are rising just like when I measured Geta's, only he's not quite there."

"The Saiyans' abilities are quite impressive," Dr. Briefs agreed, finding himself a little disappointed that he wouldn't be seeing Vegeta in all his Super Saiyan glory again. It was then that he realized that he truly wanted to see the young man succeed, that he was actually as proud of his accomplishment as he would have been had Vegeta been his own son.

"C'mon, Vegeta," Bulma murmured to herself. "Just a little more..." He'd obviously become stronger while in space, and she wanted to see just how far he could go.

Hiroshi scowled as Bulma watched Vegeta's progress with obvious fascination. This did not set well with him. "What do you think this test is going to prove?" he asked irritably.

Her attention successfully diverted, Bulma turned to her boyfriend. "It will measure his ki levels and record all of the data in the computer," she explained. "That kind of information can help us make better training equipment, and possibly aid in the development of other types of machinery."

"Hmph. Well, if it'll help you with something other than training equipment, at least it's not a complete waste of time and money," he noted dryly.

"Hiroshi..." Bulma sighed. He was always so hostile toward Vegeta. Could it be that he felt threatened by him?

"All right, Vegeta. You can power down again," Dr. Briefs announced when it became evident that his ki level had plateaued. "Very impressive, thank you."

Bulma nearly gasped in surprise when Vegeta's ki abruptly stopped emanating from him rather than gradually ebbing. He looked none the worse for wear as if he'd simply been standing there the whole time. "Everything all right?" she asked.

Vegeta nodded and made a gesture that indicated that she should open the door. He'd held back just enough to not trigger the transformation and wondered if she would be able to tell when she analyzed the data. He couldn't worry about that, he decided as he left the small room.

"Thanks, Vegeta. This will help a lot with my research," Bulma commented.

So. It seemed as though she did intend to let the ugly events at dinner slide, at least for the time being. "You're welcome," Vegeta told her. "Let me know if I can be of further assistance."

"Actually, Vegeta, I believe that Bulma has a beacon ready for use in the GR," Dr. Briefs spoke up. "We'd like for you and Geta to test it before a permanent one is installed."

Vegeta found himself a little curious as to how she had devised the beacon. "Could I see the plans?"

"Why? They're fine," Bulma asked rather defensively. "I spent a lot of time on them."

"He must not trust you, Babe," Hiroshi spoke up. "Or perhaps he thinks he could do a better job than you. After all, you're only a genius with a PhD in mechanical sciences. He can hardly scratch his ass on his own, much less critique your invention."

Vegeta scowled at the meddling man sneering at him. "I said no such thing," he retorted. "I was merely interested in how she managed to modify the device for use in high gravity situations, and I'd like to know how what it is that I'm testing works."

"I'll show you the schematics, Vegeta," Dr. Briefs offered. "You don't mind, do you Bulma?"

Bulma held in an offended huff. "No, go right ahead," she replied crisply. "I insist."

Vegeta followed the Briefs as they headed for her portion of the lab. "Here we are," Dr. Briefs said, unrolling a set of plans that had been on her work desk.

"Thank you." Vegeta examined the plans with interest. "If I am looking at this correctly, it appears that the device will erect a ki shield capable of protecting itself in proportion to the level of gravity, correct?"

"That's the idea," Bulma confirmed. "The beacon will be able to automatically adjust as you increase or decrease the gravity so you won't need to worry about it. If it needs to replenish its energy banks, it can simply draw from residual ki particles in the room."

Vegeta digested this as he looked at the plans. Somehow, something just didn't feel right. "Are you sure about this?"

Bulma frowned; was he second-guessing her design as Hiroshi had suggested? "What's wrong with it?"

"As it was pointed out to me, I'm no scientist, but I have to wonder if this design could create too strong of an energy loop," Vegeta commented in as non-threatening of a tone as possible. "What would happen if it drew in too much ki too quickly? It would have to displace it somehow, and I don't see a shut-off safety for either the beacon or the room."

"You're right, you aren't a scientist," Bulma snapped, snatching her plans back. "Don't worry, I'll ask Geta to test this for me. You needn't bother yourself."

Vegeta frowned, offended that she had dismissed him so abruptly. "No, I will test it myself. I insist," he retorted, echoing her earlier sarcasm. "When I am proven incorrect, I will apologize."

"Fine, sounds good to me," Bulma agreed irritably. "Take it and go. We'll monitor you from in here."

Vegeta picked up the ki beacon and left without another word, hatred for the man sneering at him pouring off of him in waves. Kami, but he just itched to bust that ugly mug of his. But he knew that Bulma would never forgive him and so he remained silent.

He couldn't help but feel apprehension as he exited the building and flew out to the GR. He didn't care if he was wrong; in fact, he hoped he was. But he had the gut feeling that the device just wouldn't work in the way it was intended. :Geta?:

:Hey, Father. What's up?: came his son's response a few seconds later.

:I need you to do me a favor.:

:Shoot.:

Vegeta quickly relayed the argument that had taken place in the lab. :So you see what I'm getting at?:

Geta sighed mentally. :Yes. Would you like me to randomly wander into the lab and watch with the others?:

:I think it would be wise, just in case,: Vegeta agreed. :As much as I trust and value your mother's expertise, I just don't feel completely comfortable with this device.:

:All right. I'll be right over.:

:Thank you.:

:No problem,: Geta assured him. :I'll jump in should anything weird happen.

Vegeta gave him a mental nod. :Son?: he ventured a couple seconds later.

:Yes?:

:I'm proud of you,: came the somewhat awkward response. :I'm sorry I never told you before now.:

Geta's heart softened at his father's words. :Thank you, Father. I'm proud of you, too. Don't ever give up.:

:I won't.: The mental connection was severed.

Geta teleported himself to the lab. "Hey, what's up?" he asked as he strolled up behind the others, who were watching a monitor.

"Hello there, Geta," Dr. Briefs greeted his grandson. "Your father is testing the ki beacon meant for the GR. Would you like to watch with us?"

"Absolutely. I'd like to see Mother's invention in action." He nodded to the disinterested man standing a few feet away. "Good afternoon, Hiroshi."

Hiroshi said nothing in response and hardly offered a sideways glance.

"Whatever." Geta redirected his attention to the monitor. "Where's Father?" All he could see was the empty GR with the ki beacon against the wall near the doorway to the living quarters.

"Vegeta just set it down and left- oh. There he is," Bulma corrected herself as Vegeta strolled back into the room, clad in a pair of his black training shorts and athletic shoes. He switched the beacon on and set it on the floor next to the control panel. His lips moved, but no sound was heard.

"We can't hear you, Vegeta," Dr. Briefs spoke up.

Vegeta adjusted a setting on the panel and looked up at the camera. "Can you hear me now?" he asked.

"Loud and clear, Vegeta," Dr. Briefs verified.

"Good!" Vegeta responded, in the same manner as the nerdy man on the portable telephone commercials he couldn't stand did. He was pleased, however, when the doctor's response was a hearty laugh.

"Ah, Vegeta... you crack me up." Dr. Briefs chuckled. It was refreshing when the boy showed a sense of humor, especially considering what had just happened between him and Bulma. "What were you saying?"

"I said, I'll put it here since you'll be installing it into the control panel, correct?" Vegeta repeated.

"That's the plan," Bulma confirmed.

"All right, let's get started. We'll be monitoring not only what you do, but also the levels of gravity and ki in the room, both your ki and the beacon's in response to the change of gravity levels," Dr. Briefs advised.

Vegeta nodded. "Understood." He looked up at the large video image from the lab being projected into the GR. "Son, if there's anything you think should be tested, speak up."

"Will do, Father," Geta responded.

"We're going to shut down the video feed from our end so you aren't distracted by us," Dr. Briefs informed him. "We'll still be able to send you audio if needed."

"All right." Vegeta watched as the image disappeared and held back his sigh. This was it. "I'm going to start at low gravity levels. Computer, set gravity at fifty Gs and randomly fluctuate between fifty and 300 Gs," he commanded. He felt the familiar tug of gravity as the room powered on and his body emitted a low-level ki field in response.

The small group in the lab watched as Vegeta popped a small ki ball next to the beacon. "The beacon reacted as it should. That's good," Dr. Briefs commented as the energy level of the beacon's shield temporarily increased in response. The gravity level shifted higher, and this time the shield stayed raised.

"Want me to try blasting it?" Vegeta joked, but hid the fact that he was only half kidding.

"You'd better not break that on purpose, Vegeta," Bulma retorted.

"Mother, what purpose would the beacon serve if it couldn't hold up to a stray ki blast?" Geta offered. "It shields itself, doesn't it? If it can't react in time, we'll need to make some adjustments, that's all."

Bulma pursed her lips. Vegeta was just trying to prove her wrong and she didn't like it one bit. "Fine, send a blast its way and you'll see what it does."

Vegeta shrugged and sent a small ki blast toward the beacon, raising an eyebrow when the shield cleanly absorbed the blast. "Nice. Maybe I should fall on it or smash a bot on it-"

"Vegeta." Bulma did not sound amused.

"Okay, all right." Vegeta smirked at the camera. "Computer, activate basic training exercise utilizing two bots," he commanded.

The group watched as he battled with his metallic foes. Bulma couldn't help but feel affected while watching him. He was so lithe, his movements so graceful. The way his muscles rippled beneath his skin as he moved made her feel warm as her mind recalled being held in his arms against that muscular body. She blinked, realizing where her thoughts had been heading as she stood right next to her son. Had he noticed?

Her attention was redirected to Vegeta's training when one of the bots exploded from the backlash of a ki blast. The second bot fired a ki blast of its own at him, which he managed to deflect. The ball of energy headed straight for the ki beacon, its ki shield rippling as it absorbed the blast.

"What the..." Vegeta frowned. "Something doesn't feel right," he muttered.

"What is it, Vegeta?" Dr. Briefs asked. "What doesn't feel right?"

"I feel strange, like my skin is tingling. Almost as if Anya were borrowing from me, but all over," Vegeta struggled to explain. He shuddered, not liking the goose-pimply sensation on his flesh. His eyes flicked to the beacon, and without warning, he shot a blast at it.

"Vegeta, what are you-" Bulma's indignant retort was interrupted by Vegeta's surprised shout of pain.

"What happened?" Geta demanded. "Father, are you all right?"

"Oh dear," Dr. Briefs murmured. "There was another fluctuation of the gravity, and the beacon literally sucked the ki in the blast right from his body. It seems that Vegeta is a more valuable source of energy than the residual ki energy in the room."

Bulma shivered, a creepy feeling settling over her that Vegeta just might have been right on this one. "Like he was a battery," she muttered. "Vegeta, shut down the program and come back inside," she told him.

"Computer, terminate all programs." Vegeta frowned when the GR did not respond and went over to the control panel, his body feeling like a lead weight as he trudged across the room. "I... I can't," he stammered, backing away. "The computer isn't responding and the beacon has created too big of a ki shield. It's blocking access to the control panel." He reached out to touch it, drawing away quickly when he felt the sizzle of ki burn his hand. "It's too strong."

"Look," Geta murmured. "His hair is drooping. His ki isn't holding it up against the gravity."

Dr. Briefs leaned in. "You're right, it is," he exclaimed. "Vegeta, you need to get out of there," he said worriedly. This was a bad sign. If Vegeta couldn't even keep his hair from flattening in what was currently 125 Gs, his ki had to be greatly diminished.

"The room is ki shielded from the inside, Daddy," Bulma told him nervously. "Nothing in, nothing out while the beacon is on. It's one of the modifications we made, remember?"

"Can you teleport out, Father?" Geta suggested hopefully.

"No, I can't lock on anyone's ki," Vegeta told him. "Even if the room wasn't shielded, I don't have enough ki left to blast my way out." The gravity level shifted significantly higher, and Vegeta suddenly found himself on his hands and knees, unable to keep standing upright.

"Father!" Geta exclaimed. "Father, I'm coming to get you!" He raced for the door.

"Daddy, this is my fault."

"What did you say, Bulma?" Dr. Briefs asked, unable to tear his eyes from the monitor.

"This is my fault," she whispered. "I should have listened to what he had to say." She gasped when Vegeta dropped completely down, spread-eagled and flat on the floor as the gravity shot up higher.

***

Vegeta hit the floor, grunting as the air whooshed from his lungs. The GR wasn't programmed to shut down remotely, so if Geta didn't get him out, he'd be a goner in minutes as he had no breath left to hold and the gravity was crushing down on him like an insect under a boot. His eyes opened wide when he saw the object looming above him.

He'd forgotten about the second bot, and its laser was homing in on him.

***

"Oh, Kami," Bulma whimpered when the situation became apparent. Her eyes filled with tears when she saw the look in Vegeta's eyes, one she'd never seen before.

Fear.

"Hurry, Geta," Dr. Briefs muttered, wringing his hands nervously. Relief rushed over him as an explosion ripped into the GR from the outside, rending a hole in its side and disrupting the ki shield. Geta was barely managing to maintain a weak shield of his own as he made his way through what now felt like intense gravity and rushed over just in time to step in front of the laser blast meant for his father. It was evident that his own ki reserves were rapidly waning as he struggled to drag Vegeta out of the room and remain upright himself. The doctor let out an excited yell as the two Saiyans disappeared through the hole in the GR.

Bulma's shoulders slumped and the tears she'd been holding in streamed down her cheeks. "Oh, thank Kami," she sobbed.

Hiroshi had been scowling the entire time, starting when his girlfriend had been practically drooling at the stupid monkey without even realizing it, up to her tears over her concern for him. There was no sense in denying it- she still had feelings for her ex. He truly didn't care about that; after all, he certainly didn't love her. But he could still make her feel guilty about it when the opportunity presented itself. "What's the problem, Bulma?" he asked, irritably. "No one died." She didn't hear him mutter "pity" under his breath.

Bulma turned to face him. "Hiroshi, how can you be so uncaring?" she exclaimed. "He did this for me despite his reservations. I didn't listen, and he nearly died because of it. What if he does have serious injuries? Geta could have gotten hurt in there too. How would you feel if you put someone else's life in danger?"

Hiroshi took her into his arms. "Bulma, Bulma. Of course I'd never want to be the cause of another human being's death, or even see them suffer. You know that," he told her in a soothing voice.

She pulled away enough to look up at him, her forehead wrinkled in confused contemplation as his words hit her. Did he mean another person in general, or had he carefully phrased his comment to exclude anyone who wasn't human? She was just about to say something when Geta burst into the lab.

"Prep the tank!" he shouted, sounding quite winded as he sat his father down onto the nearest chair. "Breathe, Father. Come on, breathe."

"Is he breathing at all?" Dr. Briefs asked as he rushed over.

"Just tiny shallow gasps," Geta reported. "C'mon, Father."

"That's it, Vegeta. Little breaths. You can do it," Dr. Briefs coaxed.

Bulma stepped away from Hiroshi. "What can I do?" she asked shakily.

"Prep the tank for now," Dr. Briefs instructed. "Oh! Oh dear," he exclaimed.

Bulma watched in horror as Vegeta began to convulse and blood trickled from his mouth and nose. "Daddy, do you think his lungs must be filling with blood?"

"It's entirely possible," the doctor agreed. Vegeta's body was reacting as someone drowning would.

"I've got to help, Hiroshi," Bulma called out. "I'll call you, all right?" She rushed over to the medical portion of the labs.

Hiroshi scowled. Hopefully the worthless monkey would die. Then he'd be rid of him. His eyes met Vegeta's and he sneered before turning on his heel and leaving the lab. It was better that he left anyway, for a couple doctors rushed past him to help, having been alerted by staff who saw Vegeta being carried in. If they were successful, he'd have to think of another way to rid himself of Bulma's ex. These Saiyan freaks were as hard to kill as cockroaches.

***

"Come on, I know you have one," Bulma demanded. "You'd better cough it up before I get mad."

"I'd do it if I were you, Korin," Yajirobe advised the catlike creature cringing away from Bulma. "I heard she almost beat up Piccolo, and that was when she was pregnant, too."

"I'm really sorry, Bulma, but I honestly don't have any senzu beans right now," Korin reluctantly told her. He didn't really care for Vegeta, but he felt badly for Bulma. Besides, if Vegeta did die, she'd skin him for a new handbag. "I have my plants in a controlled environment, but none of them have beans yet, I swear. I'm sorry."

Bulma stepped back with a sigh. She'd left when Vegeta began choking up blood as they were trying to put him in the tank. Besides his body being bruised and battered, he had burns on his arms and chest that looked very similar to radiation burns, her father assuming that Vegeta had sustained them when the ki beacon had literally forcibly sucked the ki from his body. She'd never felt so badly about any damage she'd caused in her life, because this mistake just might cause another person his life. But this wasn't just any person, her mind reminded her. This was Vegeta, father of her son and... and...

Oh, damn it to hell. She knew she still had feelings for him. She knew now that she always would. He was in her blood, a part of her very essence now. The bite mark on her neck tingled, and she reached up absently to scratch it.

"I'm sorry, Korin," Bulma apologized. "I shouldn't have treated you like that."

"You're worried for someone you care about. I can understand that," Korin responded, a morbid feeling of satisfaction coming over him when the blue-haired woman's cheeks flushed pink.

"Uhm, yeah," Bulma mumbled in response.

"Listen, check back with me in a couple weeks. I may be able to get you a bean or two to hang onto for emergencies, okay?" Korin offered, relieved when Bulma nodded slowly.

"Hey, Bulma," Yajirobe spoke up. "Vegeta's a tough guy and probably went through worse in all those battles he's been in, right? He'll be fine."

Bulma managed a shaky smile. "Thanks," she murmured. "I guess I should go."

The tower's two inhabitants watched her leave in her plane. "Well, that was more excitement than I'd planned for today," Korin remarked dryly.

"Yeah," Yajirobe agreed. "I thought she was going to make a pair of fuzzy slippers outta you for a minute there."

"Thank you for your unnecessary and unsolicited commentary," Korin said irritably.

Yajirobe knew not to push the cat further and wisely dropped the subject. "Did you notice?"

"Notice what?"

"She's still hot on him."

"You think?"

"Oh yeah. Big time. He'll be right back in the saddle before you know it, trust me. I'd so take a beating if it meant I could hit that." Yajirobe sighed. Life could be so unfair to short, fat, sweaty sort-of warriors. "Lucky bastard."

***

Vegeta opened his eyes and gasped in surprise. The last thing he remembered was fighting for breath as he choked up the blood in his lungs before they'd put him in the regeneration tank, as he had when Frieza had beaten the hell out of him before he died. He was as disoriented as he'd been when he'd woken up in that shallow grave on Namek, but this was his room, he realized with sudden clarity. He was alive, he could breathe, and he felt infinitely better than when he'd passed out in the tank, although he was dead tired physically. He pulled off the oxygen mask on his face and turned his head to the side, astonished to see Bulma asleep with her head on his desk. She'd stayed with him? He was tempted to reach out and run his fingers through her silky blue hair, if only to prove to himself that she really was there.

Just as their son had done when Vegeta had sat with him on the couch that first time, Bulma's eyes slowly opened. "Hey," she said sleepily, wincing at the crick in her neck as she sat up in her chair. "You're awake." She placed a hand on his forehead. He felt warm as he always did, but not hot as he had earlier. "How do you feel?"

Vegeta thought he heard the tiniest catch in her voice. "Tired," he mumbled.

"I'm sure you will for a while. I mean, you..." Bulma choked back a sob. "I'm sorry, Vegeta, so sorry," she managed. "I should have listened to you instead of being so stubborn."

Vegeta reached up to catch a tear rolling down her cheek. "Shh, don't cry," he whispered. Gods, she was beautiful.

"How can I not cry?" Bulma objected, crying even harder now. "I was horrible to you, and you could have been killed."

"You aren't horrible. I know all about horrible people, remember?" His hand cupped her cheek. "And I'm still here. I've been through worse, trust me." Visions of horrific beatings and even worse mistreatments he'd suffered at both the hands of Frieza and his minions flashed through his brain, but he quickly squashed them. He needed to focus on the princess before him right now, not on the indignities of his past.

"I still feel terrible, Vegeta." Bulma sniffled and wiped at her face with the back of her hand. "What can I do for you?"

Here presented itself a golden opportunity, one he would not pass up. "You could always kiss and make it feel better," Vegeta suggested innocently, recalling usage of the phrase when one of the women in the house would kiss an "owie" sustained by one of the boys. Employing the words along with the action always seemed to magically remove any sign of pain or trauma.

She blinked at him, then laughed. The slick little devil was doing a rather poor job of concealing a smirk. "I meant a sandwich or cool washcloth or something like that, but I suppose I could oblige you." She leaned down and placed a chaste little kiss on his forehead.

Vegeta let out an exasperated huff and shifted beneath the covers. "Not exactly what I had in mind either, but I'll take it," he grumbled.

Bulma chuckled again. He was cute when he pouted. "I'll get you something to eat, okay?" She turned to leave but paused, leaned over, and placed a gentle kiss upon his lips. "Be right back."

A small smile played at Vegeta's lips as the bedroom door closed behind her. That was all he could have asked for.